Chapter 10: Hanted by Fate

SEBASTIAN’S POV

I sprawled across my silk sheets, my pajamas clinging to my sweat-drenched skin, the Novela skyline a cold glitter through my penthouse windows. Sleep was a cruel bastard, dodging me like a shadow. Every time I closed my eyes, Isabella Hart consumed me—her red hair splayed, her green eyes glassy, her body writhing beneath mine in that bar’s private room.

Maximus, growled, dragging up the memories of her moans—raw, desperate, a wail that pierced me as I sucked her nipple, its peak stiffening under my tongue. I’d grazed it with my teeth, her cry—“oh.. yes… please!”—sharp, her nails digging into my shoulders.

My cock had plunged into her, her tight, wet heat gripping me, her screams—“Harder, oh God!”—echoing in my skull.

I groaned, my fist twisting the sheets, my body aching, tormented by the memory. Why her? I’d fucked others, walked away clean, but Isabella’s scent—jasmine, rain, her arousal—was a chain, her moans a torture I couldn’t escape.

It wasn’t just the sex. The mate bond, that cursed red string I’d seen in the parking lot, pulsed like a wound, tying me to a human too weak to face Vanessa’s lies. I flung the covers off, my bare feet slamming the hardwood, my chest heaving. My curse flared, a searing pain in my ribs, a reminder of my ticking clock—one year unless I saved the Moonborn. Isabella was her, I knew it, but I couldn’t stomach it. Not her, not now, not when my life was a fucking wreck of pain and duty.

Frustration choked me, and I stormed downstairs, my footsteps echoing in the mansion’s cavernous halls. Marble floors gleamed under dim chandeliers, my wealth a hollow boast. I paced past sleek art and leather furniture, hoping to clear my head, but her voice followed—“Mmnn… don’t fucking stop!”—her thighs trembling, her body arching as I’d thrust deeper, her nails raking my back.

I growled, my fists clenching, the memory relentless. Worse, my curse surged, a blade twisting in my chest, buckling my knees. I stumbled onto the terrace, the night air sharp, the full moon glaring like a judge.

I threw my head back, my scream raw, tearing the silence. “Hecate, what the fuck is this?” Maximus howled within, his rage mine. “Why me? Why this torture?”

I pounded my chest, my eyes burning, my voice spilling to the Moon Goddess. “From a kid, I’ve suffered—Veron’s hate, Ethan’s betrayal, Vanessa’s knife in my heart. And now, for his sins, you curse me? The bastard son, unloved, carrying his weight?”

My voice broke, my hands shaking. “When I asked for peace and solitude you gave me a mate I didn’t ask for. A weakling human? You tie me to her, knowing I’ll die, knowing I’ll break her? What kind of fucked-up fate is this?”

The moon stared, silent, but my outburst drained me, a fragile calm settling. I dragged myself inside, collapsing onto the leather couch, the bourbon bottle glinting on the counter, untouched. Isabella’s face lingered—her tears in the parking lot, her silence under Vanessa’s venom. Too weak to be my mate. I couldn’t love her, couldn’t leave her grieving when my curse claimed me. I’d break the mate bond, sever the red string, and hunt the Moonborn alone. If I died, no one would mourn me, no guilt would stain my grave. My eyes drifted shut, her moans fading, but sleep wasn’t kind.

A nightmare seized me, vivid and brutal. I stood in a forest, the air thick with blood and pine, my body battered, blood streaming from gashes across my chest. Before me, Veron, my father, loomed in his massive werewolf form, his claws dripping crimson. His golden eyes glinted with hate, his smirk cruel.

In his grip, Isabella hung limp, her red hair matted, her green eyes wide with terror. Blood poured from a deep claw slash across her abdomen, soaking her torn shirt, pooling at her feet. She sobbed, her voice weak, choking. “Sebastian… help me…”

I lunged, my chains rattling, silver burning my wrists. “Let her go, Veron!” I roared, my voice raw, tears streaming down my face. “Face me, you coward! Take me!” My knees hit the dirt, my body trembling, my blood mixing with the earth. I begged, my pride shattered. “Please, she’s nothing to you. Kill me instead.”

Veron’s laugh was a blade, cold and sharp. “You think I care about your pleas, boy?” His claws tightened, Isabella’s scream piercing the air, her body convulsing. “She pays for loving you, Sebastian. Her life for your weakness.” He raised his claw, its arc swift, and slashed her throat, her blood spraying, her eyes dimming.

“Isabella!” I screamed, my voice shattering, my chains snapping as I lunged, too late. Her body crumpled, lifeless, her blood soaking my hands as I cradled her, my sobs choking me. “No, no, no…”

I woke with a jolt, my scream echoing in the penthouse, my breath ragged, my chest heaving. Sweat soaked my pajamas, my hands shaking as I clawed the couch, the nightmare’s weight crushing me. Isabella’s blood, her lifeless eyes, Veron’s words—she pays for loving you—burned in my mind.

Maximus whined, its pain raw, the mate bond pulsing, a noose I couldn’t bear. I couldn’t let her die for me, couldn’t let her love me only to grieve or bleed. I’d break the bond, protect her by pushing her away, no matter how much it tore me apart. She was human, weak, a liability, and I’d die alone to spare her.

Dawn broke, gray and sharp, rousing me from the couch. I staggered to the shower, the scalding water scouring the nightmare’s stain, and dressed—black suit, crisp shirt, a mask of control. My resolve was iron: I’d ignore Isabella, treat her like any student, and focus on the Moonborn. My car roared to life, its frame cutting through Novela’s streets, the campus looming ahead. My early morning history class waited, a duty I’d face head-on. I’d sever the bond, find the Moonborn, and face my curse without dragging her into my doom.

I parked in the faculty lot, the campus quiet, students trickling in. My boots hit the pavement, my briefcase in hand, my aura cold, unyielding. I strode to the lecture hall, the gothic arches looming, and pushed through the door. The class was seated, their chatter dying as I entered. A prickle ran down my spine, Maximus stirring, his hackles raised. Something was off, a scent or presence that didn’t belong, my bones humming with unease.

I stepped to the podium, my jaw tight, my voice steady despite the dread. “Good morning, class,” I said, my eyes scanning, searching.

Then I saw her—Isabella, in the back row, her red hair loose, her eyes downcast, her hands twisting a pencil. But next to her, leaning close, his smirk sharp and familiar, was a face I never expected in Novela, let alone my class.

My blood froze, Maximus snarling, my breath catching.

I whispered his name, the word a blade in the silence: “Caleb Reed.”