Shattered Reflections After the Rain
1813 Words
The infirmary in Thornshadow Keep felt unusually peaceful in the morning light, but the sharp smell of herbs and disinfectant lingered in the air. The room was simple and functional: an iron bed with crisp white linen sheets, and a cabinet in the corner lined with glass bottles of potions—herbal remedies from the werewolf world that could suppress the beast or heal claw marks.
Evie lay in the bed, her bandaged arm throbbing faintly under the gauze where blood had seeped through. When she opened her eyes, the wooden beams of the ceiling came into view. Sunlight streamed through the narrow window after the rain, catching dust particles floating in the air. Her head felt heavy, and last night’s memories hit her in fragments: Selma’s cold smirk, the sharp words during the negotiation, her mother’s name dropping like a bomb, then the escape, the attack, tumbling down the ravine in pain. Now she was back—not by choice, but because someone had saved her.
Layla sat in the chair beside the bed, her red hair glowing like fire in the sunlight. She had her arms crossed, golden eyes watchful.
“You’re awake. Lucky. The sentries got there just in time, or Silver Claw would’ve torn you apart.”
Evie pushed herself up. The movement pulled at her wound, making her hiss in pain. “Why save me? I’m human. You all hate me.”
Layla snorted. “Not for you. For the Alpha. He ordered us to watch you and keep you safe. Even after you ran, he didn’t send anyone to drag you back—i***t. But if Silver Claw killed you out there, he’d lose control completely.”
Evie’s heart clenched. Lucian… Last night in the rain, he’d stood muttering to himself: “I knew it… I never deserved a mate under the moonlight.” Layla’s words cut deep. “Where is he now?”
“Still standing in the rain.” Layla stood and headed for the door. “From last night until now. Go see him if you still have a heart.”
Evie got out of bed, legs shaky like jelly. She pulled on a coat and walked out. The corridors echoed with her footsteps, the air smelling of wood and distant wolf howls. When she pushed open the main door, the sunlight blinded her for a second. Then she saw him: Lucian in the center of the courtyard, clothes soaked, black hair plastered to his forehead, gray eyes staring at nothing. He looked like a forgotten statue. The rain had stopped, but water still dripped from him, pooling in the muddy puddles at his feet that reflected his pale face.
She approached slowly, steps soft. “Lucian…”
He turned. A flash of gold lit his eyes, then faded. The beast growled inside him, but his voice stayed eerily calm. “You’re back. How’s the wound?”
She stopped a few steps away, the bandage on her arm a reminder of last night’s terror. “Why didn’t you come after me? If you care, why let me go?”
His smile was bitter and self-mocking. “Because I respect your hate. You should hate me. You should hate my bloodline. My father killed your mother—that’s the truth. Chasing you would only make you hate me more. Letting you go was the only thing I could do.”
Evie’s eyes stung. Hate surged like a wave, mixed with something painful she couldn’t name. “But you saved me. You sent the sentries. You said you don’t deserve it… so why keep protecting me?”
Pain ripped through Lucian’s gray eyes. He took one step forward, then stopped, fingers trembling slightly. “Because you’re my moonlight. Even if my cursed blood makes me unworthy, I can’t let go. Last night in the rain, I told myself to release you. You were free. But the beast… it roared that you’re mine. Your scent bound me from the first night.”
She shook her head, tears falling. “Scent? That’s just biology, not love. You hid the truth. Your family killed my mom. How can I—”
“Love?” He growled low, voice rough. “Wolves don’t do love. Only possession and bonds. But with you… maybe it’s love. Maybe it’s redemption. I protect you not because of fate, but because I see your eyes—green like the deep forest, carrying eighteen years of pain, yet still holding light.”
Evie stepped back. “Light? Your father snuffed mine out. Now you want to relight it? That’s ridiculous.”
Their words clashed like a tug-of-war. They stood in the courtyard under the sun, but the chill between them remained. Lucian didn’t move closer, letting her pour out her anger. His beast raged inside, craving to claim her, but his control held it back.
Finally, she turned toward the keep. “I need time. Don’t follow me.”
He stayed still, voice low. “Take it. Time, space… but don’t run again. Silver Claw will kill you.”
That day, Evie avoided everyone. She wandered the herb garden, breathing in the scent of flowers that suppressed the beast—echinacea mixed with wolfsbane. It reminded her of the chains in Lucian’s basement. Layla found her and handed her a bowl of hot soup. “Drink. The Alpha made it. He won’t come near you, but he’s worried.”
Evie took it. The soup was venison and wild vegetables—warm and wild. She sipped, and tears dropped into the bowl. “Why is he like this? I hate him.”
Layla sat, her tone softer than usual. “Because a true mate isn’t a choice—it’s fate. The Alpha’s bloodline is the strongest, so his beast is the fiercest. But he never loses control, all to atone for his father’s sins. Your hate might be the moon’s test.”
In the afternoon, Callum took her to the training grounds. Wolves sparred, shifting with fast, fluid movements. She watched a female wolf teach a young one to control the beast: “Breathe. Smell your anchor—family, mate’s scent.”
Evie’s heart skipped. Anchor? Lucian had said her scent was his.
That night, she returned to her room. The fireplace crackled, warming the space. Lucian wasn’t there. She lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. Hate lingered, but memories of last night’s closeness haunted her: his lips on her neck, the restrained bite that made her body heat up. Now hate mixed with desire, and she hated the contradiction.
The door opened quietly. He stood in the doorway, shadow stretching long. “Can I come in?”
She sat up. “Come in. But stay back.”
He sat in the chair across the room. “About what Selma said… I didn’t hide the details because I didn’t know the victim was your mother. But I never denied my family’s darkness.”
Evie glared. “Deny? You’re monsters. The werewolf world is cursed, living in shadows, hurting humans.”
He looked down. “Yes. But I also protect. I execute the ones who lose control. Like that night at the lumber mill. For innocent humans—like your mother.”
She choked up. “Like my mother? Too late. For eighteen years, I lived in fear. Now you want to redeem me? With your possessiveness?”
Gold flashed in Lucian’s eyes. “Possession? Yes. The beast wants to mark you, make you mine forever. But I hold back because I’m terrified of breaking you.”
The argument dragged on. Evie’s words cut: “You don’t deserve love. You’re Alpha—you’re meant to be alone.”
His reply came hoarse. “I know. But the moon chose you. I stood in the rain trying to let go. I couldn’t.”
They argued until late, both exhausted. She collapsed onto the bed; he stood to leave.
“Stay,” she whispered. “But don’t touch me.”
He lay down, leaving space between them like a chasm. Tension crackled in the air. Her scent drove his beast wild; his fists clenched under the sheets.
The next day, war loomed closer. They captured a Silver Claw spy. During the interrogation, Evie watched from the side. Lucian partially shifted—gold eyes cold, claws ripping the spy’s clothes but not killing. “The intel?”
The spy snarled. “Selma says humans will destroy you. Her hate is our weapon.”
Lucian’s beast exploded. One claw slammed the wall; stone cracked. Evie trembled—he was powerful, yet so fragile.
That afternoon, they walked by the lake at her request—to “talk it out.”
The rainforest lake was clear, reflecting clouds. Lucian walked beside her, fingers brushing hers once before pulling away fast.
“Tell me about your past,” she said. “Your father’s death.”
He stopped, voice low. “Eighteen years ago, Silver Claw ambushed us. They used my mother as bait. Father lost control, killed the attackers—and some of our own by mistake. In the end, Selma’s father tore him apart. I watched it all at twelve. That day, I swore off taking a mate.”
Evie’s chest ached. “Like I watched my mother die. We both lost parents to this curse.”
He nodded. “Maybe the moon brought us together to break the cycle.”
She turned, green eyes wet. “Break it? How? The hate is still here.”
He stepped closer, cupped her face, thumb wiping her tears. “Let me try. Let me prove I’m not my father.”
A brief embrace. His lips brushed her forehead—restrained, like chains. “I want you. But not yet. Not until you forgive.”
Evie held him tight. “Maybe… I can try.”
Their bond mended slowly through the cracks. That night, no more distance in bed. She curled into his arms; he wrapped around her—possessive yet gentle. The beast growled, but he kissed her hair lightly, holding back.
On the third day, Silver Claw launched a small attack. Lucian led the pack to fight; Evie waited in the keep, heart in her throat. Gunshots and roars echoed. Layla reassured her: “He’s strong. But with you, he’s stronger.”
Lucian returned covered in wounds. Evie bandaged him, hands shaking. “Were you scared?”
“Of losing you,” he murmured, pulling her close.
That night, intimacy deepened. His hands roamed her skin—gentle but burning. Desire blazed in his eyes, but he stopped at the edge. “Not yet. Not until you say yes.”
Evie breathed hard. “Maybe… soon.”
Redemption hovered on the edge, but the shadow of full war with Silver Claw loomed.
- Writer
