The Mate I Was Never Meant To Have

The Man With Golden Eyes

I was unable move. The stranger emanated a quiet, total danger. It was in the way he carried himself, the way the stray wolves shook at his feet, the way his golden eyes appeared to slice right through to my spirit.

The world stopped dead for some agonizing seconds. Nobody moved. Neither me, nor the rogues, nor even the breeze across the trees.

The biggest rogue then dropped its head and let out a weak, obedient whimper. I stared in uncertainty. Rogues were cruel, erratic murderers who obeyed no Alpha and feared no one. Still, here they were, very scared of one man.

The stranger stared down at them, his face quite impassionate.

"Leave."

Just one word. That was all that was needed.

The rogues did not hesitate. As quickly as their legs could bear them, they turned and vanished into the dense undergrowth.

I gazed at the tree line, my mind racing.

"What sort of man orders rogues with just one word?" I said within myself.

As if confirming a suspicion or seeking a certain mark, the stranger turned his attention back to me and deliberately examined my face, arms, and chest. A knot of anxiety tightened in my stomach. Though my feet stayed fixed to the ground, every survival instinct I had screamed at me to flee.

I ultimately came out of my reverie as he drew a stride closer and I threw my hands up, stepping back.

"Stay where you are."

Before I could stop it, the order came out.

One of his dark eyebrow raised, and a flash of real delight danced in his golden eyes.

"You command me?" His voice was low, smooth, and dangerously mellow.

I swallowed hard, fighting to keep my voice from trembling.

"I don't who you are."

"No."

"You just drove away a group of rogues."

"Indeed."

"You came out of nowhere."

"Also, true." His mouth's corner flicked up.

I frowned, annoyed by his casual attitude. Most strong men were incensed when challenged by an omega, but this man appeared to be really amused.

"Who are you?"

There was silence for a while before he finally responded.

"Lucien."

The name sent a bizarre cold down my spine, as if some lost part of my spirit had already known the name.

"Just Lucien," I pressed.

"For now."

My patience burst, angered by the riddles.

"Not long ago, rogues almost ripped me to shreds."

"Still, you live."

"Because of you."

"Correct."

I looked at him utterly perplexed. The discussion was not advancing, and the pure craziness of it was spinning my head.

A sharp scream came from the direction of the town square and I quickly turned around. Mooncrest was being attacked. Images of the chaos, and even Kael flashed through my head. My anxiety shot across my chest, eclipsing my fatigue.

I turned instinctively toward the village.

Lucien's came forward and clasped my wrist tightly. A strong electric shock courted across my whole body the moment his skin made contact with mine. I gasped as a quick explosion of extreme heat flashed under my skin. Our eyes met, and Lucien seemed totally shocked for a split second before his face flattened into an unreadable mask.

"What was that?" I said harshly, yanking my hand away, the peculiar feeling disappearing as fast as it had arrived.

Lucien kept quiet. His jaw had closed up, and for the first time since he emerged from the darkness he seemed truly worried.

"Are you going back there?" he asked.

"Of course I am."

"That's stupid."

"My pack's there!"

"The attack is none of your concern," he said frigidly.

"People are dying!" I said in an outbursts of anger.

"People constantly die."

I was shocked by the utter lack of emotion in his voice.

"What kind of monster would say something like that?"

A heavy shadow crossed his face, and for a short time a deep sorrow flickered in his golden eyes, the kind of sorrow that millennia could not mend.

"The kind that has seen hundreds of thousands die," he said.

Before I could understand, his countenance turned stony once more.

"You are not safe there."

"I have to help them."

"You will die."

"Maybe," I snarled at him.

Lucien watched me, entirely silent, then did something quite surprising. He started laughing. It wasn't a callous or mocking noise, it was rather almost appreciative.

"You are either very brave or very stupid."

"Maybe both," I murmured.

His lips showed a small, sharp smile, but before either of us could utter another word, a big, echoing howl rent the evening.

The sound paralyzed both of us right away. My nape hairs went on end. That sounded bad; it wasn't a typical wolf's cry. It was very noisy, ancient, and oozing a savage hunger.

"What is that?" I murmured, my rage instantaneously turning to fear.

Lucien did not respond right away. He followed the sound into the deeper forest, and for the first time, a flash of real panic crossed his features. That startled me more than the howl itself. A man like Lucien's panic would mean a horrible future.

"We need to go," he remarked, his voice leaving no room at all for debate. "Now."

The ground under our feet started to shake. Nearby trees shook mercilessly, and groups of birds burst out from the canopy into the dark sky. Another cry ripped the air, this time far closer.

Something huge was crossing the darkness. Though I couldn't see it yet, but its sheer weight of presence made it difficult to breathe.

Lucien suddenly moved directly in front of me, putting his body between me and the line of trees. His protective gesture caught me totally off guard.

"Why would a stranger protect me?" I wondered

The shadows at the edge of the clearing moved and two glowing, red eyes showed between the trees. Two more followed also.

My breath hitched. It wasn't just few stragglers, thousands of wolves emerged from the shadows to create a big, wild wall. However, they were not looking at Lucien. Every red-eyed gaze was fixed just on me, as if I were a target they had been pursuing for miles.

I moved backward against Lucien's shoulder and asked, "Why are they looking at me?"

Lucien's face grew lethal. He already knew the answer..

"They know,"

"Know what?"

Slowly Lucien turned his head to face me, the moonlight highlighting the vivid gold of his eyes.

"The secret someone has spent twenty years keeping from you."

A terrible, guttural roar ripped across the trees before I could ask for an answer. The desperate army rushed.

In response, Lucien's eyes burned with an unnatural, searing golden light, a reflection of basic aura that no typical werewolf could ever have. It was the mark of something much more dangerous, much more ancient, and enormously more potent.

He was a Lycan. And I realized with a jolt of pure terror that I had just spent the last ten minutes arguing with the most feared creature in the supernatural world.