Lycan Witch

Chapter 4: Chains Of The Pack

The night air burned in Kael’s lungs as he ran through the forest, his body shifting fluidly into the form that always felt more honest—fur bristling, claws cutting the earth, gold eyes glowing with the moon’s reflection.

But no amount of running could erase the feel of her against his hand. The witch.

Aria.

Her name alone was a curse, heavy in his chest.

He had sworn never to let himself slip like this. He had seen what love did to Lycans, how it made them reckless, vulnerable. He couldn’t afford weakness. Not with the hunters tightening their nets, not with his pack already questioning his leadership.

He skidded to a halt near the cliffside clearing where the others waited. The pack had gathered—seven wolves in human form, all watching him with sharp eyes. Their loyalty was not unconditional. Not anymore.

“Late,” snarled Darius, the broad-shouldered second-in-command whose ambition was barely veiled. “Out chasing rabbits again, Alpha?”

A low growl rumbled in Kael’s throat. “Watch your tongue.”

Darius smirked but didn’t back down. “Or what? You’ll disappear for another night, leaving us blind to the hunters’ traps? We’ve lost three already this month, Kael. Maybe if you kept your head where it belongs, we wouldn’t bleed so much.”

The words stung—not because they were false, but because there was truth in them.

Kael’s fists clenched. Images of Aria flashed unbidden—her wide eyes, the warmth of her skin, the way her magic had flickered like flame. Mine, some primal part of him whispered, and he nearly snarled aloud at the thought.

He couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford her.

“The hunters are getting bolder,” Kael said instead, forcing his voice steady. “Which means someone’s stirring them up. We’ll double patrols. No one moves alone.”

Murmurs rippled through the pack, uneasy. Darius tilted his head. “And what of the witch?”

The clearing went silent. Every eye turned to Kael.

For a moment, he felt his chest tighten like iron bands. They know.

“She’s nothing,” Kael growled, though his throat tightened around the lie. “A flicker, untrained, unaware. She won’t last long in Hollowbrook, not with hunters sniffing her out. We have bigger concerns.”

Darius’s smirk widened, cruel. “Strange, then, that you’re always nearby when she’s attacked.”

The tension cracked like thunder. A few of the pack shifted uneasily, their instincts picking up the sharp edge in the air.

Kael stepped forward, his gold eyes flashing. “You forget yourself.”

“No,” Darius snapped back. “You forget yourself. She’s a witch, Kael. Blood of our oldest enemies. And yet I can smell her on you.” His lip curled. “You want her.”

The words hit like a blade, cutting through the silence.

Kael’s jaw clenched so hard it ached. He wanted to deny it, to snarl the accusation down—but the truth burned too hot to smother.

He lunged.

In an instant, Darius was on the ground, Kael’s hand around his throat, claws pressing into skin just shy of blood. The pack tensed but didn’t move. This was between Alpha and challenger.

Kael’s voice was a growl ripped from his chest. “You will not question me again.”

For a long moment, the only sound was Darius’s ragged breath. Finally, Kael released him, stepping back. Darius coughed, glaring but silent, submission forced by dominance.

The pack bowed their heads—reluctant but obedient. For now.

Kael turned away, his chest heaving. The authority was his, but their suspicion had been seeded.

And worse—their suspicion was right.

As he disappeared back into the forest, he cursed the moon, cursed the prophecy he knew too well.

When wolf and witch unite… salvation or ruin.

And still, no matter how fiercely he fought it, his mind betrayed him.

Her face followed him into the shadows.

Her scent lingered in his lungs.

And deep inside, beneath the duty, beneath the rage, his beast whispered a truth he could not silence:

She is mine.