CHAPTER 2 | THE ALPHA'S WARNING
1474 Words
Ava didn’t know why she followed Lucien.
Maybe it was the fear still scraping her ribs from last night.
Maybe it was the way he said “with me,” not as a demand … but as a promise.
Or maybe it was because some part of her; some deep, buried instinct; recognized the truth even before her mind would accept it.
Werewolf.
The word echoed through her skull like a stone dropped into a well.
Lucien walked ahead of her, long strides eating the gravel path. He didn’t ask if she could keep up; he simply slowed enough that she did. Every movement of his body felt controlled, coiled, as if he was ready to shift direction or shape at any moment.
Ava wrapped her arms around herself. “You can’t expect me to just believe that.”
“You already do,” Lucien said without turning.
She hated that he was right. “Even if I did … why tell me now?”
“Because you’re not safe anymore.”
They reached the main road. A black truck leaned against the curb; an older model, battered, but unmistakably his. Lucien opened the passenger door and stepped back.
Ava hesitated.
Lucien’s jaw flexed. “Ava, if the rogue scented you once, he will again. I’d rather not have that happen while you’re standing in the open.”
She climbed in.
Not because she trusted him; but because she didn’t trust the woods more.
Lucien rounded the truck, slid into the driver’s seat, and the moment the engine rumbled to life, Ava caught it; the scent she hadn’t noticed before.
Smoke. Pine. Something darker beneath.
Animal and man.
Her pulse jumped.
Lucien cast her a glance, “Ask what you want to ask.”
She stiffened. “Who said I wanted to ask anything?”
“Your heartbeat.”
Ava whipped her head toward him. “Excuse me?”
He didn’t smile, but something softened in his expression. “I can hear it. When it stutters, when it quickens. When you’re afraid. Or lying.”
A blush crept up her neck, completely unwanted. “That’s violating.”
“It’s instinct,” he said. “Not choice.”
She swallowed. “Then answer this: why did the rogue come to my cabin? I just got here. I don’t know anything. I didn’t do anything.”
Lucien’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel. “You exist. That’s enough.”
“Not an answer.”
“It’s the only one you can handle right now.”
The truck turned onto a smaller road, winding toward the outskirts of town. Ava watched the trees blur past; dense, shadowed, impossibly old.
“You said my name was dangerous,” she said quietly. “Sinclair. Why?”
Lucien didn’t speak for a long moment.
Finally: “Because your family was part of the old bloodlines.”
Ava frowned. “What does that even mean?”
“Wolves aren’t the only ones with power.” His voice lowered. “Some humans carried it once. Some still do.”
She laughed; short, cracked. “I don’t have powers.”
“No,” Lucien said. “But your blood remembers. And certain creatures can smell what you don’t know you have.”
Her stomach flipped. “And what do I have?”
He inhaled, slow and sharp. “Something that shouldn’t exist anymore.”
Ava stared at him. “Lucien ...”
“Not now,” he cut in, eyes hard. “Not where the walls still have ears.”
She sank back against the seat, frustrated, terrified … and something else. Something warm and magnetic that pulsed between them whenever he looked at her.
The truck slowed and pulled off the road.
A long, low cabin sat nestled against a rise of mountain rock. Not old. Not new. Strong. Reinforced.
Safe.
Lucien stepped out. Ava followed, her breath catching when she realized
The air here felt different.
Lighter. Warmer. Protected.
“What is this place?” she asked.
“The Ridge House,” Lucien said. “Neutral ground. My pack uses it for meetings.”
“Pack,” she echoed. “So you’re … an alpha?”
His eyes met hers, and for the first time, he didn’t hide anything.
“Yes.”
The truth hit like a storm.
No wonder he walked like danger wrapped in restraint. No wonder the rogue had turned away last night after Lucien intervened.
There were alphas in stories. And then there was Lucien Vale, who made every story feel like an understatement.
He pushed the door open. “Inside.”
Ava stepped into a wide, open room with stone walls, leather seating, and windows facing the forest. The air hummed faintly—something she couldn’t see, but could feel on her skin.
A ward.
A shield.
Lucien shut the door behind them. “Nothing supernatural crosses that threshold without my permission.”
A dose of relief washed through her.
Until he added:
“Except you.”
Ava tensed. “What does that mean?”
Lucien walked past her, turning away as if choosing his words carefully. “The wards recognize species. Wolves. Rogues. Other things.”
“And humans?”
“Human signatures pass normally.” He turned back to her. “You didn’t.”
Her heart slammed once. Hard. “So I’m … not human?”
“You’re human,” he said firmly. “But not only human.”
The room seemed to tilt.
A memory flickered; moonlight, a clearing, silver eyes, that dream-creature whispering Mine.
Ava pressed a hand to her forehead. “Tell me what I am.”
Lucien approached, slow, deliberate, as if afraid of frightening her further.
“Ava … your family was hunted because of what they carried. Because of what you carry.”
Her voice thinned. “Which is?”
“Moonblood.”
A chill shot down her spine. “What does that ...”
A heavy thud shook the wall.
Ava jumped.
Lucien spun, positioning himself between her and the window. His shoulders tensed. His eyes flicked silver, bright and sharp.
“Stay behind me.”
Ava’s breath hitched. “Is it the rogue?”
“No.” Lucien’s nostrils flared. “Someone worse.”
Worse?
Before she could demand answers, the front door rattled; once, then again, forcefully. Lucien’s growl vibrated through the floorboards.
“Lucien!” a voice boomed from outside. “Open the damn door before I break it!”
Lucien exhaled sharply. “Damn it.”
He glanced at Ava. “Do not run. Do not talk. And whatever happens, stay behind me.”
Ava nodded, her pulse a frantic drumbeat.
Lucien unlocked the door.
It flew open instantly.
A towering man with ash-blond hair and amber eyes stormed inside. His presence filled the room; loud, chaotic, arrogant. But beneath that, Ava sensed something else:
He was strong. Very strong.
His gaze snapped at her.
“So this is her,” he said, his voice dripping with accusation.
Lucien stepped between them so fast Ava barely saw it. “Watch your tone.”
“She’s the reason the rogue crossed the eastern line,” the newcomer snarled. “And the reason we lost two scouts last night.”
Ava’s stomach plummeted. “What?”
Lucien growled low. “She had nothing to do with that.”
“That smell on her says otherwise.”
Ava flinched.
Lucien’s hand clenched. “Say it again.”
The blond man sneered. “She smells like ...”
“Don’t.” Lucien’s voice dropped to lethal softness. “Finish that sentence, and I’ll bury you.”
The blond man’s eyes flashed gold. “She’s moonbound, Lucien. You know damn well what that means ...”
Lucien slammed him into the wall so hard the windows rattled.
Ava gasped.
The blond man didn’t fight back.
He just smiled.
“Careful, Alpha,” he said. “The pack will want answers. And when they learn what she is …”
His eyes flicked to Ava again.
“…they’ll want her dead.”
Lucien’s snarl ripped through the room, raw and animal.
“You touch her, you die.”
The blond man raised his hands in surrender. “Fine. But you can’t hide her forever. The moon sees everything.”
Lucien shoved him toward the door. “Get out.”
The man left, slamming the door behind him.
Silence crashed into the room.
Ava whispered, “Lucien… what does moonbound mean?”
He turned to her, eyes still glowing, chest rising with barely restrained fury.
“It means,” he said slowly, “that you were born to bind an alpha.”
Air left her lungs.
“And if the wrong wolf marks you,” he continued, voice dark and soft and terrifyingly honest,
“you won’t survive it.”
- Writer
