CHAPTER 8 — THE KISS I WASN’T SUPPOSED TO WANT

Lucian caught up to me before I could hit the stairs.

“Seren.”

I stopped but I didn’t turn right away. I didn’t have to feel his hand to know he was there—some part of me always knew when he was close. That was the most infuriating part. My body remembered everything. My heart? Not so much.

When I finally turned, Lucian’s face wore that lost look he’d had since I came back. He stared at me like he was searching for something that wasn’t there anymore.

“What?” I said.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said.

“I’ve been busy.”

He didn’t let it go. “With what?”

“Living.”

His jaw tightened at that. “That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one you’re going to get.”

He stepped in, closer than I wanted. Three years ago, I might have noticed the way he looked at me—how his eyes softened. Back then, I would’ve thought it meant he loved me. Now I saw it for what it really was: entitlement.

“You’re different,” he said quietly.

“I know.”

“You barely look at me anymore.”

“Maybe I finally figured out where looking got me.”

His mouth twisted. “Seren, whatever happened, you’re still my mate.”

The word hit something in me. My heart didn’t ache, but my anger sparked to life. I gave a small, humorless laugh. “Is that supposed to make me fall back into your arms?”

He didn’t flinch. “You know what the bond means.”

“I know exactly what it means.”

Lucian reached for my hand. I pulled it back. “Being my mate doesn’t mean you own me.”

He just stared. For a second, pain flickered in his eyes, real and raw, but it faded fast.

“You didn’t used to talk to me like this,” he said.

“No.” I didn’t look away. “I used to love you.”

The air between us got heavy.

Lucian swallowed. “You still do.”

I almost laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. “That’s what you think.”

He moved toward me. I backed up.

“Seren—”

“She said no.”

Darius’s voice slid in like a knife. My breath caught. Lucian turned to look. Darius stood down the hall, dressed in black, impossible to read. Except his eyes—they were glued to Lucian, cold as winter.

Lucian’s shoulders snapped tight. “This doesn’t concern you, Darius.”

Darius closed the distance, kept his voice calm. “It does when someone ignores a woman’s answer.”

“I wasn’t ignoring her.”

“You kept moving.”

Lucian bristled. “You seem awfully interested in my mate.”

Silence fell. I could feel the wolves inside them sharpening, waiting.

Darius stopped a few steps away and, for a second, I thought he’d challenge Lucian right there. Instead, he looked at me, not Lucian. Me.

And then he said it—words I wasn’t ready for. “She isn’t yours to claim.”

Lucian let out a bitter little scoff. “She is my mate.”

Darius didn’t break eye contact with me. “That doesn’t make her your possession.”

Something cracked wide open in my chest.

Lucian looked back and forth between us. “You think you can take her from me?”

Darius finally looked at him. “No.” He said it like he was stating a fact, not a challenge. “I don’t take what isn’t freely given.”

Lucian looked like he’d been punched. “And if she chooses you?”

Darius just looked at me again. “Who do you want?”

That question threw me off balance—I wasn’t expecting it. Not Who are you supposed to choose? Not Who’s your mate? Not Who deserves you?

Who do you want?

For three years, everyone else had given that answer for me. My mate. My duty. My pack. My crown. My blood. My fate.

I’d spent my whole first life listening to their voices—never mine.

I glanced at Lucian. Then Darius. I looked down at the space between them.

“For once,” I said, my voice quieter than I meant, “I’m choosing myself.”

Neither spoke. I walked away.

My heart hammered in my chest, but not because someone else was deciding my life for me. For the first time, I was scared of what I’d do with that freedom.

I found Darius later that night on the edge of the eastern courtyard.

He was leaning against an old oak. He looked out at the trees, alone—not like an Alpha, not like the man who made half the pack nervous. Just a man, weighed down by things he didn’t say.

“You followed me,” I said.

Darius glanced over. “No.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You’re standing exactly where I was headed.”

“I was here first.”

I smirked a little. “That’s a five-year-old’s answer.”

Something like amusement twitched at his mouth, but it vanished.

I stepped closer. “You’ve been staring at me.”

He went still. “I look at a lot of things.”

“Not like that.”

Silence. I folded my arms. “Why?”

He turned away. “You shouldn’t ask that.”

“Why not?”

“Because you might not like the answer.”

I moved closer. “Try me.”

His jaw clenched. I thought he’d walk off. Instead, he looked right at me. “I shouldn’t want you.”

Those words landed harder than I expected. My breath stuttered.

“Why?”

His eyes flicked down to my mouth, then back up. “Because you’re already carrying too much.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is.”

“No.” I took another step. “You’re afraid.”

His expression barely shifted, but I caught it. This was Darius Veyne—the Alpha who could hold his ground against anyone—but with me, he looked scared.

He let out a breath. “I watched you die.”

My chest locked up.

“And now you’re afraid I’ll die again?”

“Yes.”

That single word stole my reply. He glanced away. “I shouldn’t have come here.”

I dared him. “Then why did you?”

He met my eyes again. “Because when I saw you alive…”

He couldn’t finish.

“What?” I pressed.

His voice went so quiet I almost missed it. “I forgot every reason I had to stay away.”

Neither of us moved. I could hear the forest, too still, my own heartbeat behind it all—and something darker, older, rising up from somewhere I didn’t want to name.

I swallowed. “Darius.”

He squeezed his eyes shut. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Make this harder.”

“You’re the one making it hard.”

He opened his eyes. All the control he wrapped himself in—it was shaking. Something raw flickered through. “You have no idea what you’re asking for.”

“Then tell me.”

“I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because if I tell you everything, you might hate me.”

I looked at him, steady. “I already hated you once.”

He flinched. “And you were wrong.”

That truth hurt worse than the lie I used to believe. I didn’t know the real Darius from before—not anymore. The man I thought I knew let me die. The man now claimed he’d tried to save me. Which was scarier than hatred: not knowing for sure.

I stepped in, not leaving room for regret. “Then let me decide what I feel.”

Darius stilled, everything in him waiting. “Seren.”

I could feel his breath, close enough to count every heartbeat—his, mine, something wild beneath both our skins, not just his wolf but mine, too.

I hesitated. Not because I feared him—because I was afraid of my own heart. I swore I’d never hand it to another man on blind faith.

But this wasn’t Lucian. And I wasn’t the old Seren.

I lifted my hand and brushed his jaw.

He froze. Didn’t move, didn’t pull me in, didn’t claim anything. He just let me decide.

That’s what made it easy. Easier, anyway.

I closed the space between us.

When our lips met, it surprised us both. For a second, neither of us moved. Then Darius kissed me, gentle—not commanding, not desperate, just there, solid and real, like he was waiting to make sure I’d stay.

I grabbed the front of his shirt. His hand settled on my waist, warm and steady, like he’d stay as long as I wanted.

The world faded out—no executions, no Lucian, no prophecies, no dangerous secrets, no fate. Just us, tangled between past and future, for once not belonging to anyone but ourselves.

When we pulled apart, my breath came too fast.

Darius looked at me, eyes darker than before. I almost smiled.

Then he stepped back.

“That was a mistake.”

Any heat inside me died. My hand dropped.

“Right.” I tried to walk away. He caught my wrist.

I froze. Darius stared at me, different now—still controlled but hungrier, something he never let anyone see. His thumb traced the silver scar on my wrist.

He leaned in, voice low. “Because now I want to do it again.”

My heart tripped.

Darius let go—and left before I could answer, disappearing into the dark.

I stayed under that oak, watching him go. I should’ve been angry, should’ve reminded myself of every promise I ever made.

Instead, a single thought burned through me—

I was starting to want the man I’d once blamed for my ruin.

And this time…

It wasn’t fate I was afraid of.

It was me—choosing him, only because I wanted to.