Moonbound Fate

Chapter 5: One Last Chance for escape

Lyra’s heart slammed against her ribs.

*No. No. No.*

This couldn’t be real.

Ronan’s weight pressed her into the forest floor, his powerful hands pinning her wrists as his golden eyes burned into hers. The bond between them crackled like wildfire, searing and undeniable.

But she *denied* it anyway.

With a sharp inhale, she twisted her body, using his moment of shock against him. She drove her knee up, aiming for his ribs. He grunted but didn’t let go.

Snarling, she did the one thing he *wouldn’t* expect.

She *relaxed*.

Letting her body go limp for just a second, she feigned surrender. The instant Ronan’s grip loosened, she *exploded* into motion.

Rolling to the side, she wrenched her wrist free and sprang to her feet. She tore through the trees, her lungs burning.

*"Move, move, MOVE."*

She didn’t look back, didn’t stop to think. Her only chance was to get to the river at the pack’s border. If she could cross it, she could throw them off her scent.

A howl echoed behind her.

Her blood turned to ice.

The Alpha was coming.

Her legs burned as she pushed harder, leaping over fallen logs, dodging low-hanging branches. The river was close—she could hear it rushing just ahead.

A few more steps.

She lunged forward—

And collided with a *wall of muscle*.

Lyra barely had time to gasp before she was slammed backward. A strong hand gripped her throat—not tight enough to cut off air, but enough to tell her there was no escaping this time.

She blinked up at Ronan, her vision blurring from the impact.

He wasn’t even *breathing* hard.

His massive frame towered over her, golden eyes ablaze with something dark. His chest heaved, his wolf barely contained beneath his skin.

She had seen anger before. Hatred.

But this?

This was something else.

His fingers flexed against her throat, his jaw clenched tight. “You *ran* from me.”

It wasn’t a question. It was a *challenge*.

The bond between them thrummed, a wild and untamed thing.

Lyra swallowed hard, forcing steel into her voice. “I’ll do it again.”

A muscle in his jaw twitched. For a long moment, he just stared at her, as if trying to decide whether to strangle her or—

*No.* She wouldn’t think about that.

Then, suddenly, he *released* her.

Her feet hit the ground, knees weak, but she held her stance.

Ronan took a step back, his expression unreadable. But when he spoke, his voice was quiet, dangerous.

“You belong to *me* now, rogue.”

Lyra’s stomach twisted.

Because the worst part?

Some deep, traitorous part of her *believed* him.