Chapter 6: Enemy Meetings
944 Words
Lyra couldn’t sleep.
Not really.
The moon hung high. Cold silver slicing through her window.
She pressed her hands over her eyes, trying to shut it out.
Trying to forget the ache pulsing in her chest every time she thought of him.
But she couldn’t.
Not now. Not ever.
Rowan.
The name burned.
Every heartbeat. Every hesitation. Every sharp, golden edge of him.
Her wolf screamed.
Twisting. Clawing. Gnawing at her insides.
Go. Find him. NOW.
Lyra shook her head violently.
No. She couldn’t.
Not yet.
Not like this.
Her father—Alaric—would know.
He would smell it. He would know the bond.
He would kill Rowan.
She didn’t care what her wolf screamed.
She didn’t care… but it hurt anyway.
Next day.
She tried to act normal.
Train. Obey. Smile. Move. Laugh.
Her wolf coiled in her chest. Clawed at her ribs. Howled whenever she thought of him.
Every glance toward the border.
Every whisper of wind.
Every scent of pine.
Rowan was out there.
She could feel him.
Gods, why can’t I stop feeling him?
Her wolf pressed against her spine, ready to leap.
She clenched her jaw. Shook her head.
Not now. Not here.
Not in front of the pack.
Not in front of her father.
Alaric’s gaze followed her.
Not just watchful—sharp. Suspicious. Heavy as stone.
By midday, she could barely stand it.
She slipped away under the pretense of patrol.
Toward the edge of the trees.
Where the shadows waited.
Don’t.
Her wolf barked in panic.
Go back. Stop it.
But Lyra ignored it.
She needed answers.
She couldn’t stand the ache anymore.
A small clearing. Hidden.
The wind carried a faint scent of him.
Her heart raced. Hands shook.
Her wolf thrashed inside her—clawing, hissing, desperate.
And then she saw him.
Rowan.
Not tense. Not predatory. Alert, listening to things she couldn’t hear.
He didn’t see her.
Her chest tightened. The bond screamed—raw, loud.
Her wolf growled.
Move. Now. Go to him.
Lyra hesitated.
Pulse racing. Legs shaking.
Thoughts tumbling.
I can’t. I shouldn’t. My father…
Rowan’s head snapped up.
Golden eyes cutting through the shadows.
He froze.
And just like that…
She felt him. Full. Raw. Insistent.
Every pulse. Every strain. Every hesitation.
Her chest, her lungs, her muscles—they burned.
“Lyra,” he whispered. Rough. Ragged. Low.
Her wolf twisted in delight and panic.
He knows. He feels you. You’re bound. Run to him.
Lyra shook her head violently.
“Don’t. Not here. Not now,” she whispered.
“Not here?” He stepped closer, cautious. “Where then?”
The bond pulsed again. Stabbing, shoving her forward.
She wanted to flee.
Throw herself at him. Push every ounce of longing, fear, and confusion into him.
She couldn’t.
Her wolf roared. Do it. Now. Stop thinking. Move.
“I can’t,” she breathed.
“You don’t understand—if anyone sees me—”
“I understand more than you think,” he interrupted. Steady. Tense.
“I feel it too. Don’t pretend this isn’t real.”
Her stomach twisted. Her wolf growled.
The ache flared like fire.
“You’re a hunter,” she spat. Bitter.
“I—my father would—”
“And he would kill me?” Rowan asked quietly. “Because of this?”
Lyra looked away.
Her wolf pressed against her chest.
Say something. Say anything. Do not run.
Her hands trembled.
The pull surged again. Hotter. Stronger.
Hate it. Love it. Fear it.
“I don’t know what this is,” she whispered.
“I… I can’t control it. My wolf—my mind—it’s all wrong. This… bond—it hurts.”
Rowan softened slightly. Stepped closer. Not too close. Golden eyes searching hers.
“It hurts me too,” he admitted.
Her wolf twisted violently. Yes! Yes! Tell her! Feel her! She’s yours!
Lyra blinked. Shook her head.
“No. You shouldn’t. You… you don’t—”
“You feel it,” he cut her off sharply.
“Every heartbeat. Every step. Every pain I have—you feel it. Don’t pretend. I know you do.”
Her chest heaved. Hands clenched. Teeth ground.
Wolf whimpered, screamed, clawed.
Stop hiding it. Stop hiding him. Stop lying to yourself.
Lyra sank to her knees. Pressed her hands to the ground. Tried to steady herself.
She couldn’t.
“You… you shouldn’t exist,” she said. Trembling. Half sob, half growl.
“You’re my enemy. Everything I’ve been taught to fight. And now… now this.”
“I know,” he said quietly. “I hate it too. But it’s real. You can’t fight it. Neither can I.”
Her wolf roared. Then act! Do something!
Lyra shook her head. “I can’t. I… I can’t.”
The forest pressed in. Listening. Waiting. Aware.
The bond pulsed, alive. Insistent.
Rowan stepped closer. Every step made her chest burn. Her wolf writhed.
She could feel every scrape, every bruise, every muscle strain in him. Couldn’t separate it from herself.
“I… I don’t know if I can handle this,” she whispered. Trembling. Teeth clenched.
“It hurts too much.”
“It hurts me too,” he said, low. Ragged. Almost a growl.
“But we can’t ignore it. Not anymore.”
Lyra pressed her hands to her chest. Tried to calm herself. Breathe. Survive.
Her wolf ignored her. Her body ignored her. Her heart ignored her.
And deep inside…
A tiny spark of terrifying hope ignited.
Because Rowan felt it too.
Because it wasn’t just her.
Because it was real.
Because it was impossible.
Because it was everything.
- Writer
