Chapter Nine
1085 Words
Elara
“You shouldn’t be walking anywhere,” I finished softly, steadying him as he tried to adjust his position.
His jaw tightened, not from weakness—but from frustration.
“I’m not the one who nearly passed out,” he replied.
The bond pulsed between us again, warm and alive, and my Lycan pressed forward eagerly.
Stay.
The word filled my chest with aching want.
For the first time in years, I didn’t feel alone inside my own body. She wasn’t fading. She wasn’t a distant whisper buried beneath poison.
She was here.
Because of him.
Tears stung my eyes again, and I quickly looked away so he wouldn’t see them.
“I have to go,” I said quietly.
The words tasted wrong the second they left my mouth.
His eyes sharpened instantly. “No.”
It wasn’t a suggestion.
My pulse jumped, but I forced myself to stay calm. “They’ll notice I’m gone.”
“They already have.”
“That’s exactly the problem.”
I stepped back slightly, and the distance made the bond stretch uncomfortably between us. My chest tightened as if something physical were being pulled.
His expression darkened.
“Who is doing this to you?” he asked, voice lower now. Controlled. Dangerous.
I swallowed.
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
The weight of that statement hit harder than it should have.
Mate.
The word hummed through both of us now, no longer confused, no longer uncertain.
“I can’t stay,” I said again, firmer this time. “If they find you near our territory, they won’t ask questions. They’ll attack.”
His eyes narrowed slightly. “Let them.”
A small, humorless breath escaped me. “You’re injured.”
His shoulders straightened despite the tear in his muscle. “I am not helpless.”
“I know you’re not.” My voice softened. “But you don’t know my pack.”
His gaze flickered over my wrists again. The faint bruising. The exhaustion I hadn’t fully masked.
“Your pack already made their position clear,” he said quietly.
That struck too close.
My Lycan whimpered faintly.
Stay.
But staying wasn’t just dangerous.
It was selfish.
“If I don’t go back,” I said carefully, “they’ll assume I ran.”
“And?”
“And they won’t come after just me.”
Understanding flickered behind his eyes.
“They’ll look for whoever helped you,” he finished.
I nodded.
The truth was heavier than that. If they believed I had bonded to an Alpha outside the pack without permission—if my father learned—
No.
I couldn’t even let myself finish that thought.
Lucian tried to rise fully then, but the movement pulled at his shoulder and a sharp breath escaped him before he could stop it.
Instinctively, I moved forward to steady him.
The bond flared hot at the contact.
For one reckless second, I almost leaned into it. Almost let myself imagine what it would feel like to belong somewhere.
To someone.
“I will come with you,” he said.
Panic surged instantly. “No.”
His brow furrowed. “You are my mate.”
The word no longer startled him.
It grounded him.
“And you are Alpha,” I replied. “Which means if you cross into my territory injured and alone, it will start a war.”
His silence told me he knew I wasn’t wrong.
The wind picked up again, carrying the scent of distant patrol wolves.
Time was slipping.
“I can’t let you get hurt because of me,” I whispered.
“You do not decide that alone.”
A small, sad smile tugged at my lips. “I do when it comes to my mistakes.”
His expression hardened at that, but before he could argue, I stepped back again.
The bond stretched tighter.
It felt wrong.
Like tearing fabric.
“Give me time,” I said quickly, the excuse forming even as I spoke it. “Let me… handle things. I need to make sure they don’t suspect anything.”
His eyes studied me carefully. He was weighing the truth in my words.
I wasn’t lying.
Just not telling all of it.
“You expect me to believe you will return willingly to a pack that poisons you?” he asked.
I forced my expression to remain calm. “It’s temporary.”
It wasn’t.
But he didn’t need to know that.
Another distant howl echoed faintly through the valley.
Closer.
Lucian heard it too.
His body shifted subtly, ready despite his injury.
“You need to leave,” I urged. “Now.”
“I am not finished.”
Neither was I.
But if I stayed any longer, I wouldn’t go at all.
My Lycan pressed painfully against my ribs.
Don’t leave him.
“I have to,” I whispered internally. “If I stay, they’ll kill him.”
The thought was unbearable.
I stepped closer one last time, lifting my hand to his chest. The contact sent a softer wave of heat between us now—not explosive, but deep. Anchoring.
“I’m not rejecting you,” I said quietly.
His jaw tightened.
“You are walking away.”
“For now.”
His eyes searched mine, looking for betrayal.
He wouldn’t find it.
Only fear.
And hope.
For the first time in years, I felt hope.
I had heard her voice.
Clear.
Strong.
Mate.
The word echoed again, and it filled me with something dangerously close to happiness.
“I will find you,” he said finally.
It wasn’t a threat.
It was a vow.
My heart stuttered.
“I know,” I replied softly.
And that was what terrified me most.
Another howl—closer now.
Lucian’s hand twitched as if to grab me.
But the injury slowed him just enough.
I stepped back fully.
Then another.
The distance grew.
The bond stretched, humming painfully between us.
He didn’t chase.
He couldn’t—not without risking tearing open his shoulder again.
Our eyes locked one final time.
Then I turned.
Each step away felt heavier than the last.
But beneath the fear of what awaited me at home, beneath the certainty of punishment—
There was something glowing inside my chest.
She had spoken.
After years of silence.
She had spoken.
And I wasn’t alone anymore.
Even if I had just walked away from the only thing that had ever felt like salvation.
- Writer
