The forest had grown unnervingly quiet since Selene's powers ignited—as if even the ancient trees held their breath, waiting for the inevitable storm between them. Moonlight filtered through skeletal branches, casting jagged shadows over Lycan's scarred face as he prowled ahead, his broad shoulders tense beneath the tattered remains of his armor. Selene trailed three paces behind, her fingers absently tracing the fresh claw marks on her throat—a permanent reminder of the predator who now dictated her survival.
The bond between them pulsed like a living thing, throbbing with every heartbeat. She could feel him—the acidic burn of his guilt, the coiled frustration in his muscles, the way his gaze kept flicking to her when he thought she wasn't looking. It made her skin crawl.
"Keep up," Lycan growled over his shoulder, his voice rougher than the gravel beneath their boots. "We're losing daylight."
Selene didn't dignify him with a response. Her mind was a minefield of blood-soaked memories: her mother's silver hair matted with mud as Lycan's warriors dragged her into the pyre's glow, the crackle of flames drowning out her brother's screams. She'd buried those images deep, but now they surged forward, sharpened by the bond's cruel clarity. Every step she took beside him felt like betrayal.
When Lycan suddenly halted, Selene nearly collided with him. His scent—iron and pine and something unnervingly primal—flooded her senses. She stumbled back, her hands curling into fists.
"What?" she snapped.
He turned slowly, golden eyes narrowing. "You're shaking."
She hadn't noticed. Her palms glowed faintly, blue embers flickering beneath the skin. The fire wants out, she realized. It wants him.
"Don't," Lycan warned, nostrils flaring as he caught the shift in her aura. His claws slid free, glinting in the moonlight. "Control it, Selene."
"Or what?" She bared her teeth, the flames leaping higher. "You'll add my bones to your collection?"
The words hung between them, poisonous and raw. Lycan's jaw tightened, a muscle twitching near his temple. For a heartbeat, she thought he'd lunge—that the beast in him would finally finish what he'd started years ago.
Instead, he exhaled sharply, smoke curling from his lips. "We need to rest."
The cave he chose reeked of wet stone and decay, but Selene didn't protest. Her body trembled with exhaustion, the fire's aftershocks gnawing at her veins. She collapsed against the far wall, putting as much distance between them as the cramped space allowed. Lycan crouched near the entrance, his silhouette a jagged cutout against the night sky.
Silence stretched, suffocating and thick.
It was the bond that broke first.
A surge of images flooded Selene's mind—not her own, but his. Flashes of a younger Lycan, barely older than a pup, kneeling before a woman with snow-white hair and hollow eyes. The High Priestess's voice slithered through the memory: "Prove your loyalty, Lycan. Purge the heretics, and the curse will spare your pack."
Selene gasped, clutching her skull. "Stop it."
Lycan stiffened. "I'm not doing anything."
"Liar!" She scrambled to her feet, the cave walls closing in. "You showed me that—that twisted justification! As if slaughtering children could ever be—"
"It wasn't a choice!" He lunged upright, fangs bared. The bond writhed between them, amplifying every ragged breath, every tremor of his clenched fists. "They threatened to unleash the Blood Frenzy on my entire pack. I thought… I thought I was saving them."
Selene's laugh cracked like ice. "By butchering mine?"
"Your clan hid a Lunar Priestess!" The words ripped from him, raw and guttural. "The cult's spies reported it. They said your bloodline was tainted—that you'd bring the Blood Moon's wrath down on us all."
A cold realization seeped into Selene's bones. "You knew. Even then, you knew what I was."
Lycan's silence was answer enough.
She advanced on him, the fire roaring back to life in her palms. "So what changed? Why keep me alive now? Another order from your precious cult?"
His hand shot out, crushing her wrist. The flames hissed against his skin, but he didn't flinch. "The curse they promised to lift?" he snarled, yanking her closer until their foreheads nearly touched. "It was a lie. The silver poison isn't some random affliction—it's their punishment for failing to kill you that night."
Selene froze. His grip burned, but the pain was nothing compared to the storm in his eyes—a tempest of rage and regret that mirrored her own.
"Every full moon," he continued, voice dropping to a lethal whisper, "I rot a little more. And the only thing keeping me from tearing out my own throat is you."
The admission hung in the air, fragile and damning. Selene's fire sputtered out.
Lycan released her abruptly, as if her skin had scalded him. He turned away, shoulders heaving. "Believe what you want. But know this—if I'd realized what you were… what they'd make you suffer…"
He trailed off, claws digging into the cave wall. Stone crumbled beneath his grip.
Selene stared at his back, the bond humming with something she couldn't name—something that felt dangerously like pity. She wanted to hate him. Needed to. But the memory-vision of the High Priestess's manipulation clung to her, whispering doubts she couldn't silence.
"Why should I believe you?" Her voice wavered.
Lycan glanced over his shoulder, moonlight carving his profile into something feral and fractured. "You shouldn't."
Dawn found them both awake, the tension between them now a living entity. Selene watched Lycan sharpen his claws against a rock, his movements precise and brutal.
He's preparing to kill again, she thought. But for once, the certainty felt hollow.
When he caught her staring, his gaze dropped to her throat—to the scars he'd left there. A low growl escaped him, almost… apologetic?
Selene touched the marks, the bond flaring hot. For a heartbeat, she felt it—his shame, sharp as a blade.
Then he stood, all traces of vulnerability buried beneath Alpha steel. "We move north. The cult's stronghold lies beyond the Obsidian Peaks."
"And if I refuse?"
Gold eyes met hers, unyielding. "You won't."
He was right, and they both knew it. The path ahead reeked of blood and betrayal, but it was the only one they had.
As Selene followed him into the bone-white dawn, she clutched the truth close:
Their survival depended on trust.
And trust, like the fire in her veins, was a weapon that cut both ways.