Rise of the Forbidden Luna

Chapter 6: The Escape

The mahogany wood of the door vibrated against my spine as Jaxon struck it again. The sound was deafening in the small space of the study, a raw, demanding thunder that stripped away the lingering heat of the fated pull between Ethan and me. The spell was broken, but the fire inside my blood remained.

"Aria!" Jaxon’s voice rose, cracking with the desperate, ugly rage of a man whose absolute authority had been challenged for the first time in his life. "Open this door before I tear it off its hinges!"

I didn't move. I didn't flinch. I kept my chin lifted, my eyes locked onto the towering figure of the Lycan King standing an arm's length away from me.

Ethan didn't look at the door. He didn't even blink. His obsidian eyes, still faintly swirling with that dangerous, liquid gold heat, remained fixed entirely on my face, reading the absolute certainty written in my expression.

"You're sure?" he murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that barely carried over the pounding.

"I have never been more certain of anything in two lifetimes," I whispered back.

A slow, devastating smile touched the corners of his lips. It wasn't a kind smile. It was the expression of a predator that had finally been given permission to hunt.

Ethan turned. He walked toward the door with a slow, unhurried grace that defied the absolute chaos happening on the other side. He didn't reach for the brass lock to turn it. Instead, he wrapped his massive, leather-gloved hand completely around the handle.

With one fluid, effortless twist of his wrist, he didn't just unlock it—he ripped the door inward with such terrifying, explosive force that the heavy brass locking mechanism snapped like a brittle twig. Pieces of splintered wood and metal sheared off, clattering violently against the hardwood floor.

Jaxon, who had been leaning his full weight against the outside of the door to strike it again, stumbled violently forward.

He lost his footing completely, his boots skidding across the polished floor as his momentum carried him right into the room. He scrambled to balance himself, his hands flying out, only for his furious Alpha glare to collide directly with the solid, immovable wall of Ethan's massive chest.

Jaxon froze, his breath catching sharply in his throat. He had to crane his neck back just to look into the Lycan King's face. The raw, suffocating pressure of Ethan's aura flooded the hallway instantly, a dark, heavy weight so intense that the air in the corridor seemed to turn to ice.

"You have a remarkably loud voice for such a small Alpha, Jaxon," Ethan said, his tone conversational, almost bored, yet carrying a terrifying undercurrent that made the hairs on my arms stand up.

Jaxon's face contorted, a flush of deep humiliation turning his neck a mottled red. He took a hasty step back, trying to reclaim his shattered dignity, his hands clenching into tight fists at his sides. Behind him in the hallway, I could see my father and Eleanor standing frozen, their faces pale with pure terror as they watched the Lycan King.

"This is my packhouse, Alpha Voss!" Jaxon snarled, his inner wolf forcing his voice to drop into a guttural growl as he tried to fight against the suffocating pressure in the room. "And Aria is my fated mate! She belongs to the Silver Moon territory. Whatever game you are playing with her, it ends right now. Step aside and let me take what is mine."

Mine. The word made a cold, vicious disgust coil in my stomach.

Before I could even speak, Ethan took a single step forward. The movement was so sudden, so loaded with an ancient, dominant power, that Jaxon's knees visibly trembled. The dark pressure in the room doubled, pressing down on Jaxon's shoulders until a faint, pathetic whine escaped his throat. His inner wolf was begging him to submit to the apex predator standing before him.

"She rejected you on the altar, boy," Ethan said, his voice dropping to a dangerous, low whisper that vibrated through the floorboards. He leaned down slightly, pinning Jaxon with his predatory, pitch-black eyes. "You couldn't even protect her from a poisoned cup on her own birthday. You are a coward who plots in the shadows, and you are entirely unfit to hold her leash. Step aside before I make this territory find a new Alpha to lead them."

Jaxon choked on his own breath, his eyes wide with a mixture of shock and sheer terror. He looked past Ethan's massive shoulder, his gaze finding me where I stood by the desk. "Aria... you are throwing your life away. If you walk out that door with him, you are a traitor to your own blood."

I walked forward, my movements slow and deliberate. I reached for my father's heavy, dark wool travel coat resting on the rack by the wall and threw it over my blood-red dress, buttoning it tightly up to my throat. I didn't look at Jaxon. I didn't look at my father, who was watching me with wide, useless eyes, completely paralyzed by his own weakness.

I stepped right up to Ethan's side. The scent of cedarwood, winter frost, and raw power enveloped me instantly, acting as a shield against the toxic air of this house. Without a single trace of hesitation, I hooked my arm firmly through the Lycan King's massive, solid elbow.

"My blood betrayed me the moment they poured the wolfsbane, Jaxon," I said, my voice cutting through the tense silence like a silver blade. I finally looked him dead in the eye, letting him see the cold, absolute absence of the submissive girl he thought he owned. "Enjoy the ruins of your alliance. We are finished."

Ethan's dark smile returned, matching the fierce, unyielding line of my jaw. He turned his back on Jaxon completely, a supreme insult to a pack Alpha, and began walking down the corridor. His four armored Lycan guards instantly formed a tight, protective wall behind us, their hands resting heavily on the hilts of their silver blades, completely cutting off any chance of pursuit.

We walked down the grand staircase, past the stunned, silent crowds of the ballroom who shrank away from Ethan's aura like shadows hiding from the sun. Eleanor watched us from the top of the stairs, her pristine face twisted into a mask of pure, venomous hatred, but she didn't dare utter a single word.

The heavy front doors of the packhouse were held open by two more of Ethan's guards. We stepped out into the freezing, crisp night air, the wind whipping against the hem of my red dress beneath the heavy coat.

Down the driveway, a line of massive, black armored convoy vehicles sat waiting, their engines purring with a deep, mechanical growl. The red taillights cut through the dark autumn mist like glowing embers.

A guard opened the heavy, reinforced door of the lead vehicle. The interior was a luxury oasis of dark leather, heated seats, and tinted glass.

I stepped up, sliding into the deep seat, and Ethan climbed in right after me, his massive frame instantly making the spacious cabin feel intimate. The guard slammed the heavy door shut, and the absolute lock engaged with a solid, metallic click that echoed through the small space.

I leaned back against the leather, looking out through the heavily tinted glass as the convoy smoothly accelerated, sweeping down the driveway and leaving the gates of the Silver Moon pack behind. The lights of the packhouse faded into the mist, shrinking into nothingness.

The twelve-hour loop was over. I had survived the altar. I had survived the poison.

I turned my head to look at the Lycan King sitting beside me in the dim, glowing dashboard light. The real game had just begun.