Chapter 6

“You were destined for me, perhaps as a punishment.”

— Fyodor Dostoevsky.

LUCIEN

I’d faced coups, rogue attacks, and near-death experiences. Yet somehow, one stubborn human with the scent of vanilla had me unraveling.

The council meeting dragged on, rogue attacks, territory disputes, cross-pack alliances, and the usual chaos of werewolf politics, but I couldn’t bring myself to care.

Between my fingers, I twirled the bracelet she hadn’t realized she’d dropped. Four days since her scent clung to it, still teasing, faint, but enough to drive my wolf mad with hunger.

The room brimmed with wolves from every territory. Some former alphas, some current. My father sat two chairs down, silent but watchful.

Darius lounged three seats away, relaxed, cocky, insufferably at ease, as if he had no idea I was one heartbeat away from tearing his throat out.

How dare he? Come into my pack and touch what was mine.

“Lucien,” Nyla’s voice sliced through the room, sharp with amusement. “If you’re done fondling that cheap bracelet and glaring holes into Darius, maybe you’d like to actually contribute?”

I slid my gaze to the hybrid witch-wolf at the far end of the table. Her smirk faltered the longer I stared, her chin dipping.

“Apologies, Alpha,” she murmured.

I nodded once, turning back to the elder, gesturing for him to continue.

But my wolf still prowled, seething, remembering the way Darius had dragged her from that cabin like some goddamn hero in leather.

“Lucien.” Rowan’s voice barely reached me, lost under the white-hot haze behind my eyes, my claws itching to strike Darius.

“You will put those claws away, boy,” my father snapped, voice cutting like steel. “Focus on this meeting. You will not embarrass me over a girl. Much less a human.”

The last word tasted bitter in my mouth. I almost snapped back. Almost. But I knew better than to question Leonardo in a room full of Alphas and former kings. I didn’t inherit this seat through disobedience.

Silence stretched across the room, thick and suffocating. I didn’t need a mind reader to know what they were thinking: a human bonded to an Alpha was an abomination. And word had already spread that Camellia was my mate.

Tension gripped the council like a noose.

“I was promised snacks.”

The doorway cracked open. Kainan, pale as polished bone, jet-black hair falling over his eyes, strolled in with centuries of arrogance baked into every movement.

He slumped into a chair like he owned it, boredom radiating off him.

“Someone call me when the bloodshed starts,” he drawled. “Or at least when you start growling. You look halfway there already.”

“That’s not the point,” I ground out, teeth clenched.

My father’s glare pinned me in place, discipline cloaked in disappointment. The look alone was enough to make me flinch, a reminder of the scar on my ribs, earned when a rogue escaped on my watch at twelve.

“Ohhh, so she’s the mate,” Nyla purred, her smirk sharp as knives. “She’s the one who walked in on Caleb and me having sex. You’re in for trouble with that one.”

Enough.

“This meeting is adjourned,” I snapped. “Any objections, meet me outside.”

I didn’t wait for responses. I stalked out, murmurs rising behind me like smoke.

I needed to see her.

Rain soaked my black fur as my body reshaped under the wolf’s power. Bones cracked, joints popped, claws tore through skin. Fangs pushed past my gums as primal instincts took over.

The world narrowed to scent, sound, and survival. My wolf and I were chasing the only thing that tethered us to this chaos: her.

I watched from the hill above her apartment, hidden in twilight shadows. Her living room glowed warmly — she and her younger sister crouched over a puzzle, laughter drifting through the air.

The apartment smelled like safety. It was neat, with a balcony of dying plants and a fragile wind chime.

My gaze drifted to the dining table, where a stack of envelopes sat untouched, bills, probably. My wolf growled low, irritated. We’d handle that. She shouldn’t have to worry about mundane shit anymore.

Something shifted, a strange pull in the air.

A tall man lingered just beyond the building, dressed too casually for the hour. He didn’t move like a neighbor or wait like a friend. He hovered near her door, eyes darting, fingers twitching.

My wolf tensed, muscles coiling. We watched, the both of us fully aler, as the man stepped forward and rang the bell repeatedly.

She opened the door casually, like there wasn’t potential danger standing two feet away.

We definitely have to work on your survival instincts, Camellia.

Her brows furrowed as she stared at the man, arms crossing under her chest in a way that drew my wolf’s attention, an unconscious, frustratingly human distraction.

And just like that, my IQ dropped ten points.

My wolf tensed beneath my skin, claws itching against the earth, every muscle taut as I watched him lean closer to her.

I perked up, ears attuned to every word they spoke.

“You don’t get to show up here anymore,” she said firmly, one hand already reaching for the door.

“Come on, Cam,” the man rasped, desperation thick in his voice. “I just need some money. I’m still your father. You won’t let your own blood sleep in the gutters now, would you?”

Oh. We both had shitty dads? A match made in trauma heaven.

She shook her head, jaw tight with disgust as she reached to grab the door again. But the bastard moved first, grabbing a fistful of her hair.

Instinct overrode thought. A guttural growl tore from my throat as I launched forward. My teeth sank into his hand, blood warm and metallic filling my mouth, but all I tasted was territorial rage.

He turned his head slightly to look at her one last time, but I didn’t give him the chance. I bared my teeth and snarled low in my throat.

He flinched, disappearing into the shadows with a trail of muttered curses and blood.

I turned to look at Camellia. Her eyes were wide, pupils blown with shock, flicking between my massive frame and the blood dripping from my fangs.

She crouched down slowly, hesitation clear in every breath. One hand stretched out toward me, trembling slightly, like she was negotiating with her own instincts.

“H-hi, big guy,” she said gently.

I was nearly five feet tall in wolf form, all fur and muscle, but I leaned into her touch the moment her fingers brushed against me. My wolf practically melted, sniffing her hand and rubbing his oversized head against her arm like a clingy toddler.

She giggled at his antics, petting his head like I wasn’t a whole apex predator seconds ago.

“Someone’s a big softie, huh?”

If my ancestors could see me now, they’d disown me from the bloodline.

She was dressed in literal homewear, mismatched socks and hair that looked like it had been wrestling with her pillow five minutes ago, yet somehow, she still looked like temptation sculpted by the gods.

But still, the problem remained.

She was human.

Flesh-and-blood fragile. Bound by rules and realities my world didn’t respect. The kind of woman who deserved flowers and brunch dates, not ancient curses and supernatural politics that could get her killed before the appetizer.

“You’re in a lot of trouble with this one,” Nyla’s voice from the meeting echoed like a prophecy I was now too deep in to outrun.

And maybe she was right.

Because looking at Camellia now?

Letting go didn’t even feel like an option. It felt like the start of a war I was willing to burn everything for.

I eased back from her hand, the warmth lingering a second too long in my senses. My massive paws hit the wet pavement, carrying me away, every step stretching the distance between us.

The wolf inside me growled, low and hungry, muscles coiling, claws itching to pivot back. It wanted to stay. To wrap around her like a shadow and stake its claim.

I ignored it. Control was everything to me right now. I kept moving, the trees drawing closer, the shadows swallowing me as I put her behind me.

But then something brushed against the edge of my senses, a faint, sharp presence lingering in the air.

My fur bristled instinctively. Every muscle tensed as I paused briefly. The wolf growled low in my chest, urging me to stop, to turn, to face it.

No. Not now. Not yet. It could wait.

The scent lingered, clinging to the air in a way that made every hair along my spine lift. My wolf growled again, muscles coiling even as I forced myself to keep moving.

There was something out there.

Something waiting. Watching.

Patient and deliberate, aware of every step I took.

And I hadn’t even seen it yet.