Chapter 8
963 Words
Chapter 8 – Gavin’s POV
The moonlight hit the water in shards of silver, making it harder to focus on anything but her. Lyra.
She was still standing there—wet, radiant, furious. And mine.
My wolf howled beneath my skin. It didn’t care that she was engaged to another. It didn’t care that the packs were strained by years of tension, blood feuds, and secrets. It only knew her scent, the way her pulse fluttered when she was near me, and the way her lips had trembled when she said my name.
Lyra.
She was fire and blade, pride and duty. And I was the outsider, the threat, the cursed heir of the Nightwind Pack.
I should have walked away.
Instead, I stayed frozen in the shadow of that moment.
She turned her back to me without a word, her spine straight, but I caught the quiver in her shoulders. I could smell her—anger, confusion...and something else. Desire. Regret. Need.
I followed.
Not too close. Just enough.
The woods felt like they were holding their breath, and every step she took sounded louder than it should have in the hush between us.
“I didn’t come here to ruin your life,” I finally said.
She stopped.
“I never asked you to come,” she threw over her shoulder, voice taut.
“No,” I admitted. “But fate doesn’t ask permission.”
She spun to face me, eyes blazing. “Don’t talk to me about fate. Don’t you dare.”
The bond between us crackled, electric and raw, like a storm ready to burst. I could feel it in every inch of my skin—this pull toward her, magnetic and maddening. She felt it too. She had to.
“You can pretend it doesn’t exist,” I said quietly. “You can cling to Brian, to your pack, to what’s safe. But you know this thing between us is real.”
“I know,” she whispered.
One word. Barely audible. But it shattered me.
I stepped closer. “Then why fight it?”
“Because you came too late,” she said. “Because if I let myself fall into you, I lose everything I’ve worked for. My pack will see it as betrayal. Brian will never forgive me. My father—”
“Would he forgive you for marrying someone you don’t love?”
The silence that followed was long and heavy.
She didn’t deny it.
That was all the answer I needed.
My chest tightened with the weight of it. Not just want—this was deeper. A bond. A cosmic thread tying our fates together, even if the world wanted to tear us apart.
“I don’t know how to stop this,” she finally said, softer now. “Being near you—it’s like I’m drowning in something I don’t understand.”
“You’re not alone in that,” I told her.
And gods, it was the truth.
I wasn’t supposed to feel this way about a girl from the enemy pack. I wasn’t supposed to lose control when she looked at me. But here I was—willing to burn down everything I knew for her.
Suddenly, twigs snapped nearby.
We both tensed, turning.
Brian.
He stepped into the clearing, eyes flicking between Lyra and me. He’d heard enough. The way his jaw clenched, the way his fists curled—it wasn’t just jealousy. It was betrayal. Fury. Fear.
“What is this?” he demanded, his voice barely contained.
Lyra stepped forward. “Brian—”
“Save it,” he snapped. “I knew something was wrong the moment he showed up.”
“I didn’t—” she began, but he cut her off.
“You’re my mate,” he growled. “My fiancée. Or have you forgotten that?”
“She’s not your mate,” I said coldly. “You both know that.”
He turned on me, eyes flashing. “You think just because the moon decided to link you two that it changes anything? You think she’s just going to toss away years of loyalty to fall into bed with you?”
My wolf surged to the surface, ready to fight, to protect, to claim.
But I held it back.
“Maybe she should decide that for herself,” I said. “Instead of being told who she belongs to.”
Brian lunged.
I caught his fist mid-swing, twisting, slamming him back into a tree. Not hard. Just enough to remind him—alpha or not, he wasn’t going to bully his way through this.
“Stop!” Lyra shouted, rushing between us.
We both froze.
Her hands pressed to Brian’s chest, gently pushing him back.
“Don’t do this,” she pleaded. “Not here. Not like this.”
Brian looked at her. And for a moment, the fury drained from his face, replaced by something else—pain. He reached for her, but she stepped away.
“I need time,” she said.
“Time?” he echoed bitterly. “Time to fall deeper under his spell?”
“No,” she said. “Time to figure out what I feel. And what I want.”
He stared at her for a beat longer, then stormed off into the woods.
She stood there, watching him go.
I waited.
She didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“You don’t have to say anything right now,” I told her. “Just… don’t shut me out.”
“I won’t,” she said quietly.
And even though the air between us was thick with tension and unfinished thoughts, I knew we’d crossed a line that couldn’t be undone.
Whatever happened next—we were in it.
Together.
- Writer
