Chapter 4

SONG OF THE CHAPTER: Gasoline by Halsey

IVARA'S POV:

The night smells of gunpowder and burned rubber, a metallic tang lingering in my nostrils as I skid the bike to a stop. My wolf growls beneath my skin, senses alert. I should’ve known something was off because everywhere is too quiet and too calculated but nothing could have prepared me for the screams.

Hunters.

They hit fast, like predators with no conscience. UV rounds sizzle against fur, scorching the wolves as if the bullets carry fire itself.

I hear the yelp of agony, the roar of enraged alpha wolves, the sickening thud of bodies hitting asphalt. Engines spin in desperate escape, metal against metal, leather against earth. Chaos reigns, and in the middle of it all, I feel the pull again, the bond between Ronan and me flaring so hot it nearly blinds me.

He’s everywhere, all at once: moving through the fray, teeth bared, fists a blur, wolf claws tearing through the night. I want to curse, to retreat, but my pride pins me to the ground. I cannot run. Not when blood stains the asphalt and lives hang by a thread.

The Dravens and Voss bikers collide, snarls echoing across the highway, engines spinning as if screaming in protest. I see Ronan take down a hunter like he’s a predator claiming what’s his. There’s fire in his eyes, pure, unrestrained, but underneath… I feel it. That pull. The bond thrums like a drumbeat in my chest.

“Get down!” Kael’s voice slices through the chaos, but I barely hear it. My focus is drawn elsewhere, to a lone figure struggling against the edge of the battle... Cassian.

He’s hit, UV rounds burning into his fur. His growl is weak, pained. My wolf screams, desperate, and without thinking, I leap into the fray, dragging him into cover.

I curse under my breath, muscles trembling with adrenaline. “Hold still, you stubborn idiot,” I mutter, pressing my hands against the burn marks, ignoring the stink of blood and smoke.

Cassian hisses at me, but there’s relief in his eyes. My wolf aches at the contact, recognizing him as part of Ronan’s pack, and I shove the feeling down. I’m not helping him because of Ronan. I don’t care.

But the truth sticks in my chest like a thorn: every fiber of me feels the pull. I care. I care far too much.

Ronan appears suddenly, as if the bond itself dragged him to me. His chest heaves, eyes bright with fury, black leather smeared with soot and blood. “Ivara,” he growls, voice low, dangerous. “Step back. You’re not a child.”

I glare up at him, chest heaving, wolf bristling beneath my skin. “I don’t need your protection!” I snap, voice harsh, trembling with adrenaline and frustration. “And don’t think I don’t know what you are! You’re the Draven Alpha. You could crush me without a second thought!”

His eyes darken, ice-blue and feral. He steps closer, each movement deliberate, predator closing in. I feel the pull again, stronger this time, tendrils of heat curling through me, making my heart hammer. “And yet I didn’t,” he says, tone tight, voice edged with something I can’t name. His proximity is overwhelming, every inch of him radiating dominance, threat, and… need.

I take a step back, but he mirrors me, too close, too intense. Our breaths mingle, sharp in the night air. My wolf snarls, frustrated, confused, and I taste iron on my tongue. “Stay away!” I hiss. “Don’t pretend this changes anything!”

He tilts his head, smirk faint but eyes burning. “Nothing’s pretending,” he whispers. “Not the fight, not the bond, not us.”

I can’t breathe. Not from fear, not from heat, but from the pull. The fire that coils around my chest, my ribs, my very bones, demanding attention I refuse to give. I grit my teeth, forcing my pulse to slow, pushing back against it. “I hate you,” I breathe, venom lacing every word.

He doesn’t flinch. He leans in closer, voice low, rasping with control and barely suppressed need. “Do you? Or is it just convenient to say?”

The world tilts, spinning. My wolf trembles, whining under my skin, desperate, protesting my denial. I shove it down, forcing my gaze onto his chest, ignoring the way every instinct screams for him. “I am not yours,” I say, voice almost a whisper, though the anger beneath it roars louder than any engine.

Before he can reply, Adrian’s voice cuts across the chaos. “Ivara!” My brother’s tone is sharp, controlling, full of authority I haven’t felt since childhood. I spin toward him, heart still racing, adrenaline humming through my veins.

“What?” I snap, voice dripping ice, though my wolf hisses in frustration at the interruption.

“Focus,” he growls, hands on his hips, dark eyes narrowing. “You’re distracted. You’re letting him get to you, and Kael will notice. If you falter now…” His voice trails, warning unspoken but clear.

I gape at him, fury blooming like wildfire. “Distracted? I am not distracted! I-” I stop, realizing my pulse is erratic, my wolf screaming in frustration, my entire body betraying me. Adrian smirks, just faintly, but the warning in his eyes is unmistakable. He knows. He knows exactly what’s happening.

I spin, needing air, needing distance. My boots scrape against gravel as I stalk to the bikes, needing the solace of metal and motion to drown out the fire curling in my chest. I mount my bike in a flurry, engine roaring to life, echoing the wildness inside me. I don’t care who sees me flee; I need space. I need it.

I freeze mid-shift, eyes widening as I sense him moving closer, tracking me. The bond drags him like gravity, relentless, unstoppable.

I curse under my breath, gunning the engine, tires spinning against gravel, sparks flying. I won’t let him catch me. Not here, not now, not ever.

But inevitability has a way of catching up.

Moonlight slices through the trees, cold and silver, illuminating the clearing ahead. My pulse races, wolf howling, breath ragged. And there he is. Ronan.

Standing in the center of the clearing, black leather dark against the pale light. Muscles tense, eyes bright with fury and… something else. Something I refuse to name.

“You can’t run,” he growls, voice low, vibrating against my bones. The bond hums, screaming in tandem with my wolf, urging me to acknowledge the truth I fight with every fiber of my being.

“I *don’t belong to you!” I hiss, spinning the bike around. “I never will!”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t flinch. He just steps closer, predator and mate intertwined in ways that terrify me. The wind blows around us, whipping hair into my eyes, whipping adrenaline through my veins, making every sense hyperaware.

“Ivara,” he murmurs, voice rough, magnetic, irresistible. “You’re mine. Whether you like it or not. Even though I despise you.”

My wolf shivers beneath my skin, trembling, whining, confused. I freeze, jaw tight, every instinct screaming in protest and yet… warmth curls through my chest, heat climbing my spine, heartbeat pounding. The pull is undeniable, insistent, scorching. I want to scream, to flee, to fight but my body betrays me, responding before my mind can command it.

I glare at him, lips pressed tight, jaw stiff. “I’d rather die than be yours,” I whisper, venom and fire lacing the words.

Ronan tilts his head, smirk faint but eyes ablaze with need and challenge. “We’ll see,” he murmurs, taking another step forward, wolf and human, bond and need, all merging in a force I can no longer ignore.

The night stretches between us, moonlight and metal and blood-stained air. My wolf trembles, torn between pride, hate, and something else; a wild, undeniable longing that refuses to be suppressed and I realize, with sick, awe-filled clarity: I cannot escape him.

Not tonight or ever.