Chapter 14 - The Lycan’s Need

                I held my breath in terror, my lungs burning as if the very air had turned to glass. I begged the universe that the answer would not be my worst nightmare, that my father would tell me it was just a legend told to keep Lunas submissive. The silence of the lake seemed to amplify the frantic thudding of my heart, a drumbeat of pure, unadulterated dread.

This could not be real, betrayal by the man I had stood beside for years was one thing, but to be erased by the very nature that was supposed to protect me was another.

“No,” he answered to my relief. “It becomes a triangle. A parasitic one. His mark stays on you, but his soul, his wolf, is pulled toward her. To keep that three-way bond from turning into some biological disaster, both the Alpha and the fated mate have to accept the third. Zebub would need to accept you as part of that union to keep the energy from turning toxic.”

Disbelief crept over me. I stared, unable to process what he’d just said. The idea of sharing a soul-space with the woman currently dismantling my life was a sickening joke.

“Zebub? Accept me? Never going to happen. She wants me dead, Father. She wants me out of the way so she can claim the vault, the bed, everything. She’ll never accept an ‘intruder’ in her territory. Especially not the one who currently occupies the seat she’s trying to steal.”

“Exactly,” he replied, shaking his head slowly, his eyes fixed on the mark that peeked out from my collar. “And that’s the death sentence. If the fated mate refuses the existing bond, then you become the threat, the intruder. The bond will see you as an obstacle to the union. It will start to drain you, slowly. Your strength, your wolf, everything, will be siphoned off. And eventually… you’ll die. The bond itself, in its hunger, will kill you to make room for her.”

The breath left me, sharp and painful, like a kick to the gut. The world tilted, the trees swaying as if the ground itself were rejecting me.

Catastrophe hammered through my thoughts. Weeks of planning, of plotting my revenge, gone in a breath. I was biologically tethered to a death sentence I couldn’t bargain my way out of. I was being deleted from my own life, for the second time. But I was not ready to give up, the new me refused to be defeated again.”

“How do I break it?” I whispered shakily, the words catching in a throat that suddenly felt too tight. “There has to be a way. I need to sever this tie, I can’t wait around to be drained dry by some rogue’s spite. Tell me how to kill the mark. Tell me how to stay alive.”

He looked away, eyes damp from the pressure on him. He shook his head multiple times, silent for a long moment. When he finally spoke, his voice was almost a surrender.

“A normal wolf can’t break an Alpha’s mark from the inside, Amani. Not without help. The only way to override it, the only thing that might save you, is if you’re marked by something… someone… much higher.”

I frowned, trying to process.

“A higher race? What’s higher than an Alpha in this territory? There is no one left to appeal to.”

“Lycan,” he said quietly. “Their blood is older, their strength more dominant, more dangerous. If a Lycan marks you, it would burn Vance’s mark out of your skin, like fire and ash. That’s the only thing strong enough to sever an Alpha’s tether without killing the host. It’s a violent, absolute conquest of the flesh.”

My mind spun, memories of Menelik’s dark eyes surged unbidden, the quiet confidence he carried like a shield. No pack. He was a lone wolf, or so he claimed. Far from a Lycan.

“A Lycan,” I repeated, tasting the words like ash and hope. “And they’re real? I thought they were just myths we used to scare the pups.”

My father’s face was grim, yet resolute.

“They are monsters, live in Canada, in the Kingdom of werewolves. Finding one is a death wish in itself. Surviving their mark, if you even survive being marked, is even harder. It’s like replacing a leash with a collar made of lightning. But until we find a solution, we play the week out. We find something, anything, on Zebub. Or we lose everything.”

I nodded, but my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

The storm inside me was no longer just a metaphor. It was a countdown. I wasn’t just fighting for assets or reputation anymore, I was fighting to keep my own heart from stopping.

“Go back to the house,” my father urged softly, his hand resting briefly on my shoulder in a rare display of affection. “Don’t let them see you’re rattled. Be the Luna in despair they expect. Let them think you're fading.”

“I’ll be more than that,” I whispered, turning away to hide my pain. “I’ll be the one who survives.”

Watching him vanish into the woods, I knew my day had only just begun.

The path back to Vance was closed, the road ahead guarded by monsters and myths. But as the first drop of rain hit the dry leaves with a sharp, insistent crack, I realized I’d rather be marked by a monster than murdered by a coward.

 If I had to burn, I would choose the fire myself.