Meeting
1176 Words
Chapter Four
Meeting
Lucien’s POV
The girl was light in my arms, too light for someone who had just endured the pain she had to pass through. Her body trembled against mine, her lips pale as though her life was being stolen from her.
Gasps followed me as I walked through the courtyard of the Ashfang estate with the full moon still glowing above us. Alphas, Betas, attendants, they all parted for me.
Not out of respect, but because they were scared.
“That’s Lucien Vale,” they whispered.
“He is the Rogue Alpha.”
“Do you know that no one trusted him?
“I heard that he has no mate because he is a rogue and no one wanted him near their daughters”
I rolled my eyes at the things they said. Let them whisper. Their words meant nothing to me.
What did matter at the moment was the girl in my arms.
Her scream had cut through the ceremony like a blade. It silenced the wolves mid-howl.
As she collapsed it was like a stone being dropped in still water, its ripples caught the attention of every Alpha present, but no one did anything about it.
Idiots.
I had seen curses before, and this wasn't one of them.
Her skin burned, I could feel her body radiating something raw and dangerous, even though she looked as fragile as broken glass.
I didn’t go to the servant’s quarters or the healer’s tent. I carried her past the gates, down the stone path, and into the Old Alpha King’s palace; it was my temporary lodging during this summit.
The palace was a relic, a hollowed-out monument of pride. Its corridors smelled of dust and old iron, its walls lined with tapestries of kings long dead.
I preferred ruins to beautiful cages.
I pushed open the heavy doors to my chambers and laid her on the bed. She shifted, groaning softly, her face contorted in pain.
For a moment, I simply watched her.
Her features were delicate, she had soft lips, dark lashes that trembled like she was fighting nightmares, her hair soaked with sweat but it was the aura about her that unsettled me.
Even though she was unconscious, she didn't feel ordinary.
Who was she?
I poured water into a basin, wrung out a cloth, and pressed it to her forehead. Her skin was scorching. She whimpered, arching slightly, her hand clutching at her shoulder.
My eyes went to her shoulder.
That was where the pain had begun. That was where she had screamed like she had been eaten alive.
My eyes narrowed.
I reached out slowly, carefully, and I tugged at the collar of her plain dress. She stirred, muttering something I couldn't make sense of, but she didn’t wake up.
I paused for a while, before I continued, the fabric slid down her shoulder, baring pale skin except it wasn’t pale anymore.
My breath caught.
There on her shoulder was a mark. It looked new. I leaned forward to examine it, it wasn't a scar or a wound.
It was a mark…….and it was glowing brightly.
Black and silver lines twisted in a beautiful pattern across her shoulder blade, pulsing faintly with light underneath it.
It was mesmerizing and it looked alive. The way it shimmered beneath the moonlight was wonderful.
I had seen many marks in my life. Mate marks, curse sigils, blood-oath but this… this was nothing I recognized.
As curiosity surged through me, and without thinking, I reached out.
The moment my fingers brushed the mark, the world changed.
Heat exploded up my arm, racing through my veins like lightning. My heart slammed against my chest, my breath caught in my throat, and for the first time in years, before betrayal, before my exile, before I chose the life of a rogue—I felt something pierce the armor around my soul.
It was a bonding.
I staggered back a step, clutching my wrist. My hand trembled violently, as if I had grabbed hold of a live wire. Yet even as I pulled away, the connection didn’t sever.
My mind is still filled with her essence. I could feel her fear, her grief, her desperate determination to survive.
The bond pulsed again, and I found myself leaning back toward her, unable to resist. My fingers hovered over the mark, every nerve in my body screaming to touch her again. To claim the heat, the power, the belonging I hadn’t realized I craved.
I wanted more of what I had tasted. That was the only way to describe it.
I had lived years without wanting anyone or without needing anyone but yet here she was, an unconscious girl who was a servant and I could feel the way I was being pulled back to her.
Who the hell was she?
Her lips parted, and a soft, broken whisper escaped.
“Storm…”
The name twisted something ugly in my chest.
Was she calling the person I think she was calling?
Storm Thorne, the Alpha of Bloodfang and my rival. The wolf every other pack bowed to, the one who had everything I was denied.
Why was she calling for him?
I clenched my fists, my jaw tight. The thought of Storm’s name on her lips was unbearable. Whoever she was, whatever bound me to her, I would not allow Thorne to touch her.
Never.
Just then her body shook, as her mark glowed brighter, making me lean in closer without even thinking.
My hand hovered again, trembling with restraint, before finally pressing flat against the mark.
The connection I felt before roared to life but louder this time.
Images flickered through my mind, but they were all scattered. I saw blood, a knife twisting into someone’s flesh, pleading eyes staring up as someone turned away.
Were these her memories? What was going on?
I ripped my hand back with a growl, my breath heavy. My instincts screamed at me, telling me this girl wasn’t just any servant.
She carried secrets, heavy ones and I could feel them, which meant she was mine now.
I didn’t care if the goddess herself came down and told me otherwise. I could feel the bond pulsing like a heartbeat.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching her restless sleep. Her breathing evened slightly, though sweat still clung to her skin. Carefully, I drew the covers up over her, shielding her bare shoulder from the chill. My hand lingered near her mark, aching to touch it again, to feel the rush that had hooked me but I stopped myself.
“Patience.” I sang to myself as I stared down at her, a dark vow coiled in my chest.
She had fallen into my arms, into my room, into my life and I would not let her go..
The world thought Lucien Vale was a rogue with nothing to lose.
They were wrong.
Because now, I had found my mate and I would burn the goddess Astrid herself to keep her.
- Writer
