Run again little wolf

Darius’s POV

Lyra’s laugh rang through the room, light and sweet, her fingers trailing down my chest as she pressed closer. The firelight painted her skin gold, and the smug curl of her lips was everything I wanted to see.

“By now,” she purred, tilting her head, “that little orphan must be dead. Probably ripped apart by rogues.”

I chuckled, deep and satisfied, pulling her into me. “Good riddance. I warned the pack she was useless. Weak blood deserves no mercy.”

We were tangled in each other, lips brushing, her soft gasp in my ear—when the doors slammed open.

The sound cracked through the chamber like a whip.

I tore my mouth from Lyra’s with a growl. “What the hell—”

Selene stood there.

My witch. My tool.

And she looked terrified.

Her hood was half-fallen, her face pale, eyes wide as though she had stared into the abyss itself.

“How dare you barge into my chambers?” I roared, the walls vibrating with the force of it. “I should have your tongue torn out for this insolence!”

Lyra hissed from the bed, clutching the sheets against her body. “Does this pathetic interruption really need to happen now? Can’t it wait?”

But Selene didn’t even glance at her. Her eyes were locked on me.

“You made a mistake,” she whispered hoarsely, her voice cracking like dry parchment.

I laughed, sharp and cruel. “The only mistake I made was keeping that wretch in my pack as long as I did. Throwing her out was the first wise decision in years.”

Selene’s lips pressed tight. Then, with the weight of thunder, she spoke:

“Aria Hale is no orphan. She is the lost heir of the Moonfire bloodline.”

The air shifted.

My laugh died in my throat.

“Lies,” I spat, though the word lacked the conviction it should have carried.

Selene stepped forward, her eyes gleaming in the firelight. “The Moonfire line is older than any throne, blessed with healing, with the ability to break curses and command Lycans themselves. Her touch mends wounds. Her blood is power. She is a lot more than you think. And she is destined to be queen.”

Lyra scoffed from the bed, rolling her eyes. “You’re not seriously buying this witch’s story, are you?”

But I wasn’t listening to her.

My chest burned, a pit of regret twisting into rage. If it were true—if Aria had been by my side—I would have been untouchable. The Bloodfangs would not just rule packs, we would rule kingdoms.

I swung my legs off the bed, standing to my full height, the fire snapping behind me. “If she truly is what you say…” My jaw clenched as a new hunger lit inside me, deeper than lust, sharper than greed. “Then I cannot let her slip through my hands.”

I turned to Selene, my voice dark, urgent.

“How do I win her back?”

                Aria’s POV

The dining hall had never felt so suffocating.

The last time I sat at that long stone table, I had pushed him too far—laughed at him, challenged him—and Raiden had stormed out with claws threatening to tear through his skin. Tonight, he was absent, leaving me surrounded by his Lycans, their eyes heavy on me, silent, watchful.

Every scrape of a fork against a plate grated against my nerves. No one spoke to me. No one dared. They only… stared.

I hated the way they stared at me like I am their next meal.

I forced a bite down, the food turning to ash on my tongue, and then shoved the plate away. “I’m done,” I whispered, though no one had asked. The silence followed me as I rose and left the hall, my footsteps echoing down the corridors like an intruder.

My heart pounded, not from their stares, but from the thought I couldn’t shake—I can’t let him cage me. I won’t let him kill me when he grows tired of his game.

Mate.

The word burned.

His stupid, cruel joke from before. A mate? Again? Hours ago, I was rejected, thrown out like trash. How could the Fates be this cruel—to bind me twice?

I shivered as another thought stabbed me: who had touched me while I was unconscious? Who had bathed me, changed me into this silken dress that clung to my skin like temptation itself?

I gasped, a horrified flush creeping across my cheeks. No. It couldn’t have been him. The Lycan king himself… I shook my head violently, trying to rid myself of the image of those massive hands sliding over me, of his silver eyes darkening as he—

“No,” I muttered, choking back the thought. I would go mad if I let it stay.

That night, I did the only thing that made sense.

I ran.

The fortress was alive, doors resisting, guards everywhere. But I moved like shadow, slipping past their gazes, silent, desperate. The gates loomed at last, towering, promising freedom. My chest swelled with hope. Just one more step—

A voice cut through the darkness. Deep. Rough. Hungry.

“Run again, little wolf, and I’ll chain you to my side.”

My blood froze.

From the shadows, he emerged. Raiden. Silver eyes blazing like molten moonlight, locking on me as if nothing else existed.

My breath caught. I spun, heart slamming against my ribs, but my feet refused to move.

He stalked forward—unhurried, predatory, every step dripping with power. The night bent around him, the air itself trembling in his presence.

I backed away instinctively, until my spine met the cold iron of the gates. Trapped.

His hand lifted, rough knuckles brushing against my cheek. The heat of his touch seared me, weak at the knees, breath unraveling. I hated myself for leaning into it—for craving more of that forbidden warmth.

His thumb grazed my lips, the slightest pressure stealing my voice.

He leaned down, so close I could feel his breath against my ear. My skin erupted in shivers, every nerve igniting as his voice sank into me like velvet and fire.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he whispered. “The bond. The pull. You can lie to yourself, little wolf, but your soul already knows the truth.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, shaking my head weakly. “You’re wrong—”

His lips brushed the shell of my ear, silencing me.

“No,” he murmured, low and possessive. “I am your mate. The last, the only. The one you were made for. And you…” His hand slid from my cheek to my throat, not choking, just holding, claiming. “…you were born to be mine.”

The world spun. My heart thundered so hard it hurt. I wanted to fight, to scream, to deny him—yet my body betrayed me, trembling, aching, craving the heat of his closeness.

Raiden’s mouth curved into a wicked half-smile as he pulled back just enough for me to see the fire in his silver eyes.

“Run from me again, little wolf, and I swear—I’ll tie you to my bed until the stars burn out.”