Crimson Moon Pact

Claws against spells

Zephans pov.

She is really alluring when she fights, her moves coordinated like a seasoned warrior, somebody who is my match in every way worthy of the title of commander. Too bad I cannot let go of my hatred for her.

Lyra lunges forward, fury exploding from her body with power enough to overshadow everyone. Her claws s***h through the air aiming for him, but his magic meets her mid-strike, stopping her attack, a burst of fire and shadow that shakes the ground. Sparks rain around them, painting their faces in red and silver as the sheer power forced them apart. Their eyes met halfway as they continued their confrontation in a never-ending tug of war.

Their powers collide again, claws tearing through flame, spells searing against flesh. The air hums with violence, but beneath it, something hotter coils — desire, sharp and undeniable, attraction meant for them.

Lyra’s claws graze his throat, just enough to draw blood. His magic flares, scorching her skin. For a heartbeat, they are locked together, predator and prey, neither willing to yield.

Her breath catches. His eyes hold hers in place, and at that moment, she sees not just the sorcerer, but the boy who once waited for her kindness. The boy she crushed. The boy who loved her. The boy she put him through hell.

Her voice breaks, softer than she intends. “You should hate me.”

His jaw tightens, magic trembling at his fingertips. “I do.” He leans closer, his words a blade sharper as he whispered in her ears. “And I want you to feel it.”

But his hand lingers too long, his magic burning against her skin like a touch. And her claws, though poised to strike, tremble with hesitation.

She did put me through hell, but my heart craves for her, it always had, even before I knew we were mates. I cannot help but draw near to the flame even though I might get burnt.

I used most of my strength to fight her, but I could feel my energy fading away. I'm afraid to admit she might be stronger than me in coordination and tactics because she has managed to overpower me more than once, making me falter in my coordination. It's like she can read my moves before I execute them, which is impossible. Only someone who had shed a lot of blood on the battlefield could wield such power with precision. What did she go through to reach that kind of level of power? When I left, she was just a spoiled princess, the alpha daughter who could act out in a wimp, like a little brat. The Lyra in front of me is not the same kind of woman I knew ten years ago.

'' My turn now'' she said, her mouth curling into a triumphant smile as she knocked me out hard.

My consciousness faded as I heard her whisper in my ear drifting into nothingness.

Next day

My head hurts like crazy, I had a massive headache. My tongue tasted blood from my busted lips, she really didn't hold back. My body was chained to the walls of what seemed like a dungeon, only neat and simple. The droplets of dried blood on the porcelain floor seemed out of place in this simple structure.

That woman is ruthless, her strength is otherworldly enough to overpower me. My wolf, Ry, was busy laughing in my head about being knocked out by our mate. The cracks on the walls shed light into the room, bringing it to life. The doors cracked as my mate stepped in the room holding a tiny pocket knife dangling in her arms. She wore her signature black pants with a matching tank top flaunting her curves and scars which were peeking from her top telling a story. Her aura was imposing,icy and suffocating, nothing like the clueless girl from before.

''So mate, what should I do with you.''