The Lycan king himself

Aria’s POV

How do I feel?

So good.

Any regrets? Absolutely not.

It’s been what—thirty minutes? An hour? I don’t even know anymore. I’ve just been walking. Or should I say wandering, because it’s not like I actually know where the hell I’m going. I left Bloodfang’s borders with all the grace of a drunk deer and now I’m somewhere in the middle of these dark, creepy-ass woods. Bravo, Aria. Excellent plan.

Do I hope I don’t get stopped or shredded into little wolf-bits by rogues? Yeah. Yeah, that would be nice.

I stop, plant my hands on my hips, and stare up at the moon like she’s going to answer me. “Did I go too far with what I said to Darius?”

A beat of silence. Then I snort. “No. Hell no. He had it coming. I’ve let him and his precious little fan club step on me for years. If anything, I was nice about it.”

With a huff, I stomp my foot, spin on my heel, and march forward again. My legs are just dragging me wherever they please at this point. Maybe straight into the jaws of a rogue. Wouldn’t that be poetic?

Also—I smell like death. Not like actual death, more like… the essence of it. Spoiled tomatoes, stale milk, something fruity and rotten I can’t even identify, and, what’s that? Oh yeah. Roasted chicken. What kind of disgusting buffet am I carrying on my skin right now?

“Ughhhhhhh!” I yell at the top of my lungs, startling some poor bird out of a tree. It squawks at me like even it is judging my life choices.

I lean against the nearest trunk, pressing my forehead to the bark, running my hands through my tangled hair. My whole body aches, inside and out. My wolf—usually the little fighter in me—is dead quiet. Silent. Not even a growl of comfort or a whisper of defiance. Nothing but emptiness.

The image slams into me again—Darius, smug and perfect, kissing Lyra like I never even existed. Heat rushes into my chest, my stomach twisting. “Ugh, they’re so gross.” I shove away from the tree and keep walking, kicking a rock into the shadows.

For a moment, it’s just me, the sound of my own footsteps crunching against dead leaves, and the echo of my heart pounding too hard in my chest.

Then—

Snap.

I freeze.

That wasn’t me.

Slowly, I turn, scanning the trees, the shadows pressing in tight. My breath fogs in the night air, too loud, too shaky. My ears strain for another sound, a whisper of movement.

Snap. A twig breaking.

My heart lurches. Every inch of me prickles, the silence heavy, almost suffocating.

I’m not alone.

“Uh… hello?” I called out, instantly regretting how dumb it sounded. Who the hell greets danger?

Silence.

Kaida, my wolf, is still gone—no voice, no growl, nothing. Broken, maybe, just like me. Great timing.

“Anyone here?” My voice wobbled, but I forced a laugh, masking it with fake bravado. “You know, you could come out and we can have a chat instead of this creepy hide-and-seek crap.”

Nothing.

Then—another snap.

Definitely not me.

My chest tightened. “Come on, Kaida… say something,” I whispered, desperate, scanning the shadows pressing in around me.

And then, like nightmares crawling out of the dark, they stepped forward. Not one. Not two. Not even three. Shadows peeled apart into figures—tall, broad, wrong. Their glowing eyes flickered in the black like little fires.

Rogues.

A low growl rippled through the air, then another, and another—until it was a chorus, echoing through the trees. The sound slithered over my skin, made my knees weak.

I swallowed hard, my throat dry. Alone. No pack. No protection. Too weak to even shift. The rejection bond had gutted me, leaving me standing here like prey.

“W-what do you want?” I stammered, hating how small I sounded.

No reply. Not in words.

They just circled me, eyes gleaming, hunger etched in every line of their faces. Predators.

The words of Bloodfang pack snapped back into my head, cruel and sharp: “She won’t even survive the night out there. Rogues will tear her apart before the moon sets.”

And now—here they were. Their prophecy, standing in front of me. Ready to make it come true.

“Seems like someone just got cast out,” one of them drawled, fangs sliding down as he looked at me like I was the entrée on tonight’s dinner menu.

I blinked at him, tilted my head, and forced a smile. “Uh… cast out? Nooo. Wrong word. I prefer… ‘freelancing.’” I gave a nervous laugh, clutching my chest. “Yeah, just freelancing my way around life. You know, fresh air, new scenery, soul-searching, blah blah…”

Another rogue chuckled darkly, his yellow eyes narrowing. “Doesn’t look like the case.”

My fake laugh cracked. “Okay, fine, maybe a little cast out. But let’s not label things, huh? Labels hurt. And I’m already having a very rough birthday.”

They didn’t laugh. Not even a pity chuckle. Their claws glinted under the moonlight as they moved closer. Step by step.

I sucked in a sharp breath. That’s it. Kaida, wake the hell up, or we’re wolf jerky.

But Kaida stayed silent, curled somewhere deep, broken.

“Fine, it’s just me then,” I muttered, backing up.

And then—I spun around and bolted.

Branches whipped at my arms, my bare feet pounded the dirt, and behind me came the thunder of pursuit. Their growls split the night as they crashed through the trees, faster, hungrier, closer.

Pain slashed across my back—claws. Hot blood ran down, burning as it dripped down my skin. I hissed but didn’t stop. Couldn’t stop.

Another claw raked my arm, the sting shooting fire up to my shoulder. My body screamed at me to collapse, but I pushed harder, lungs tearing with each ragged breath.

Run. Run, damn it.

But every step was heavier, every breath sharper. My wolf still refused to answer me—silent, wounded, gone.

Alone.

The rogues laughed as they chased, their voices carrying in the dark. “Run, little cast-out! Run faster!”

I stumbled, caught myself, but I knew it—I was bleeding, exhausted, and already prey.

And in the pit of my gut, a cruel truth twisted like a knife: maybe Bloodfang had been right. Maybe I wouldn’t survive the night.

My legs burned, my lungs screamed, and my vision blurred with every step. Branches tore at my skin, blood soaking my shirt, but somehow I was still running. Still alive.

“Happy birthday to meee…” I wheezed out between ragged breaths. “Getting rejected, humiliated, and now… eaten alive by flea-infested mutts. What a milestone, Aria. Truly iconic.”

My foot caught on a root.

“Shit!”

I crashed to the ground, my forehead slamming against the dirt with a painful thud. Stars burst across my vision as I rolled onto my back. My chest heaved, my head rang, and for the first time in forever—I felt the sting of real defeat.

The rogues were already on me. Circling. Smirking. Their glowing eyes sliced through the darkness like predators closing in on their feast.

I let out a shaky laugh, though my lips trembled. “Damn it… so this is it, huh? Death by mangy mutts. Couldn’t even get a dramatic last meal. Figures.”

One rogue leaned closer, saliva dripping from his fangs. “Don’t worry, little cast-out… this won’t take long.”

I shut my eyes. My wolf was silent. My body was broken. And for once, I truly thought—it’s over.

But then—

The night changed.

A sound ripped through the air, low and guttural, so deep it seemed to shake the ground beneath me. A growl—not from a wolf, but something far greater.

The rogues froze. Every single one of them stiffened, eyes snapping toward the shadows.

The growl came again, vibrating through the forest like thunder rolling across the mountains. My chest tightened, my breath caught.

And then… he stepped out.

From the darkness emerged a figure so massive my heart lurched. He was terrifyingly tall, broad shoulders cutting a silhouette against the moonlight, every movement radiating raw power. His eyes—glowing silver flames—seared through the night, pinning the rogues where they stood. His presence was so heavy, so suffocating, it felt like the air itself bent beneath him.

The rogues didn’t wait. They didn’t fight. They broke.

“It’s the Lycan King!” one screeched, voice cracking with terror. “Run, you bastard, RUN!”

And just like that—they scattered.

My jaw fell open as I lay trembling on the ground. My ears rang with the echo of his growl, my heart thundering against my ribs. Whoever—whatever—this man was, he hadn’t even touched them. His aura alone had sent them fleeing like cowards.

And me?

I couldn’t even breathe.