Stolen Scent: The Rise Of A True Luna

He fight for me

Lyra POV

The sun climbed the sky, its frail rays struggling to pierce the canopy of intertwined trees above us, casting long, dancing shadows on the forest floor. The air was crisp, heavy with the damp scent of churned earth and a faint touch of pine that seemed to permeate everything here.

Each step we took crunched dry leaves, the sound echoing like a low drum, marking our progress toward Morgana’s cabin, Calista’s sorceress aunt. My backpack weighed on my shoulders, but it was the weight in my chest—a mix of hope, fear, and something I didn’t dare name—that made every breath an effort.

Jaxon walked ahead, his broad frame cutting through the narrow path with silent determination. His gray t-shirt was slightly damp with sweat, clinging to the curves of his muscles, and I couldn’t stop my eyes from tracing the lines of his body—strong, solid, as if he could carry the world on his back.

But there was something different about him today. He was quiet, quieter than usual. It wasn’t the comfortable silence we’d shared over breakfast, when his eyes sparkled with unspoken promises. This was a heavy, charged silence, like the air before a storm.

“Jaxon?” I called, my voice more hesitant than I wanted. I stopped, adjusting my backpack’s strap, and he turned his head, his gray eyes meeting mine. There was something in them—a shadow, a tension—that made my stomach twist. “You okay?”

He stopped fully, turning to face me. The wind tousled his dark hair, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “I’m fine, Lyra,” he said, his deep voice carrying a forced note that didn’t convince me. He scratched the back of his neck, a gesture I was starting to recognize as nervousness. “Just… thinking about all this. Morgana, the territory, what comes next.”

I nodded, wanting to believe him, but a sharp pang of fear clawed at me. *What if he regrets it?* The question echoed in my mind, cold and insistent. In the clearing, in the tent, he’d been everything—warmth, desire, safety. His lips on mine, his hands tracing my skin, his husky voice calling me “my omega.”

But what if that had just been a moment, a fleeting impulse? I’d already been rejected once, by Darius, my own mate, the one who should’ve recognized me above all else. The memory of his golden eyes, cold and distant, still cut like a blade. I couldn’t bear another rejection. Not from Jaxon.

“You sure?” I asked, my voice lower now, almost a whisper. I took a step forward, closing the distance between us. “Because… you’re acting different. Quiet. And I…” I swallowed hard, heat rising to my face. “I don’t want you to feel like what happened was… a mistake.”

His eyes widened for a fraction of a second, as if my words had caught him off guard. Then he sighed, deep and heavy, and before I could pull back, he cupped my face with his hands, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. “Lyra, listen,” he said, his voice firm but soft, as if he wanted to etch the words into me. “Nothing that happened in that clearing was a mistake. Nothing. You… you’re different. Special. I don’t regret a single second.”

My heart raced, a sweet warmth spreading through my chest, but the shadow of doubt lingered. “Then why are you like this? So… distant?”

He let out a short, almost bitter laugh, and dropped his hands, though his eyes didn’t leave mine. “It’s not you, Lyra. It’s all this.” He gestured vaguely at the forest around us, as if it could encompass the weight of our mission. “Morgana’s not just anyone. She’s dangerous, manipulative. And the Crescent Moon territory… it’s a snake pit. Wolves loyal to Darius, to Calista. If they catch us…” He stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I just want to keep you safe. And sometimes, I get stuck in my head, trying to plan every step.”

I bit my lip, processing his words. There was truth in them—I could feel the worry in his voice, the burden he carried as an Alpha. But still, a part of me, the wounded, insecure part, needed more. “Jaxon,” I murmured, taking another step, so close now I could feel the heat of his body. “You promise you’re not hiding anything? That… you still want this? Us?”

He looked at me for a long moment, his gray eyes like storm clouds, deep and intense. Then he gripped my waist, pulling me against him, and before I could react, his lips found mine. The kiss was slow but searing, a silent promise that made my body melt into his. When he pulled back, his eyes gleamed with something that took my breath away. “I want you, Lyra,” he said, his voice hoarse, almost a growl. “More than I should. More than is safe. That hasn’t changed.”

I smiled, relief washing over me, my heart pounding so loud I was sure he could hear it. “Okay,” I whispered, resting my forehead against his chest for a moment, letting the rhythm of his breathing calm me. “I trust you.”

He kissed the top of my head, his arms still around me. “Good girl,” he murmured, and the word “girl” should’ve annoyed me, but from him, it felt like a caress. “Now come on. Morgana’s not gonna wait for us forever.”

Reluctantly, I stepped back, adjusting my backpack as we resumed our trek. The forest felt denser now, the trees closer, the sounds more muffled, as if the air itself knew we were entering dangerous territory. Every snap of a twig, every rustle of leaves, made my heart race, and I caught myself glancing over my shoulder, expecting to see glowing eyes in the shadows.

“How far to the cabin?” I asked, my voice cutting through the silence as we hopped over a narrow stream, its crystal water reflecting fragments of the sky.

“A few hours, if we don’t run into trouble,” Jaxon replied, his eyes scanning the forest, always vigilant. “But we need to stay sharp. Darius’s wolves patrol this area. And if Calista knows we’re after Morgana…” He let the sentence trail off, but the warning was clear.

“You think she knows? That we’re coming?” My voice came out higher than I meant, fear creeping up my spine.

Jaxon hesitated, and that was answer enough. “Calista’s smart,” he said finally. “And Morgana’s not exactly trustworthy. If Calista suspects we’re after the truth, she’ll try to stop us. Any way she can.”

I swallowed hard, the image of Calista—her cold eyes, her cruel smile—flashing in my mind. “So… what’s the plan when we get there? How do we convince Morgana to help us?”

Jaxon slowed, turning to me with a thoughtful expression. “Morgana’s driven by gain. She doesn’t do anything for free. We need to figure out what she wants—power, information, maybe something only you can offer.”

“Me?” I frowned, confused. “What could I offer? I don’t have anything. Not even my essence.”

He stopped, gently gripping my arm, his eyes serious. “You have more than you think, Lyra. Your strength, your story… you’re a healer. Morgana might want something tied to your skills, or maybe something about the ritual she used on you. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out together.”

I nodded, though the idea of bargaining with a sorceress tied my stomach in knots. “And if she doesn’t want to help? If she’s loyal to Calista?”

Jaxon grinned, a spark of defiance in his eyes. “Then we find another way. I’m an Alpha, Lyra. I don’t give up easily. And neither do you.”

His words reignited something in me—a spark of determination, a reminder that I wasn’t just the rejected omega anymore. I was Lyra, fighting for myself, for what was stolen from me. “You’re right,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “Let’s do this.”

He laughed, a low, warm sound that eased the tension between us. “That’s my omega,” he said, playfully ruffling my hair before picking up the pace.

The next few hours passed in a blur of steps and silences, the forest growing wilder, denser. The terrain sloped upward, and the air felt heavier, as if carrying a supernatural weight. My senses were on edge, every sound—a distant bird, a rustling bush—making my heart jump. Jaxon was tense too, his eyes sweeping the horizon, his hand occasionally brushing the knife sheathed at his belt.

“Lyra,” he said suddenly, his voice low, almost a whisper. He stopped, raising a hand to signal me to do the same. “Did you hear that?”

I froze, my breath caught in my throat. The forest’s silence seemed to scream now, and then… a snap. Not a twig breaking, but something deliberate, like heavy footsteps. My heart pounded, and I stepped closer to Jaxon, my eyes searching for any movement among the trees.

“Stay behind me,” he murmured, his body tensing, muscles coiled for action. His voice was calm, but there was a low growl in it, an Alpha’s warning.

Before I could respond, a shape emerged from the shadows—the silhouette of a wolf, large, with glowing eyes that cut through the dimness. It wasn’t an ordinary wolf; it was one of Darius’s patrollers, its gray fur bristling, teeth bared. It wasn’t alone. Another wolf appeared to our left, smaller but just as menacing, its eyes fixed on me.

“Jaxon…” My voice trembled, fear gripping my chest.

“Stay calm,” he said, not taking his eyes off the wolves. “They know who I am. But you… you’re the target.”

The larger wolf took a step forward, a deep growl reverberating in the air. I could feel the weight of its hostility, the disdain for a scentless omega. But Jaxon didn’t back down. He stepped forward, his own growl echoing, deep and primal, the sound of an Alpha ready to fight.

“You know who I am,” Jaxon said, his voice sharp as a blade. “And you know I won’t let you touch her. Get out of the way, or you won’t like what comes next.”

The wolves hesitated, their eyes flicking between Jaxon and me. For a moment, I thought they’d back off. But then the larger one let out a short bark, and both lunged, swift as shadows.

“Lyra, run!” Jaxon shouted, already moving, his body a blur of strength as he tackled the larger wolf. I wanted to stay, to help, but survival instinct pulled me back, my legs stumbling as I ran, the sound of snarls and flesh colliding echoing behind me.

I didn’t know where I was going, only that I had to escape. But as I ran, a certainty burned in me: Jaxon was fighting for me. And I couldn’t—wouldn’t—let him face this alone.