CHAPTER 5
1775 Words
The boy’s words hung in the air like a curse.
For a long moment, Darius didn’t move. His breath came in steady, shallow pulls, but his pulse was a drumbeat of rage.
“My brother?” His voice was calm, too calm—like a blade honed to perfection before it cut. “Say that again.”
The boy’s lips trembled. “He… he sent me. Said to tell you he’s coming for what’s his.”
Seraphina stiffened. “What’s his?” Her mind immediately went to one horrifying thought: her child.
Darius’s jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached. “Where is he?”
The boy shook his head quickly, fear widening his eyes. “I don’t know. He—he never stays in one place long. But he said to give you this.”
He held out the blood-stained parchment with shaking hands.
Darius snatched it, unrolling the scrap. The letters were jagged, written in a crimson that wasn’t ink.
Little brother, you always did take what didn’t belong to you. This time, I’ll be the one to claim what’s mine—your throne, your pack… and your pretty little mate. See you soon.
Beneath the words was a symbol burned into the page—a crescent moon with three claw marks slashing through it.
Darius’s hands shook for the first time in years. He crumpled the parchment in his fist, a low growl vibrating through his chest.
“Your brother,” Seraphina said carefully, “wasn’t he—”
“Dead,” Darius finished, voice like broken glass. “I watched them bury what was left of him.”
“Clearly, he disagreed with the diagnosis.” Her tone was sharp, hiding the ripple of unease crawling through her veins. “And now he’s after me. And… him.”
Their eyes locked. Neither spoke the name neither had yet dared to say—their son.
Darius turned back to the boy, voice cold enough to freeze marrow. “Where did he find you?”
“A–a village south of the ridge,” the boy stammered. “He promised me freedom if I delivered the message. Please—I don’t want trouble. I just—”
“You already brought trouble,” Darius cut him off. “Go. Run far and don’t stop until the wind burns your lungs. If you’re lying…” His eyes flashed molten gold. “I’ll find you.”
The boy didn’t wait to be told twice. He vanished into the trees, his scent dissipating like smoke.
The silence that followed was worse than the fight had been.
Seraphina folded her arms, partly to keep herself from shaking. “So, your brother wants to destroy you and use me to do it.”
“No,” Darius said darkly. “He wants to break me. Taking you—and the boy—is how he does it.”
Her heart slammed against her ribs. “You think he knows about—”
“He knows enough.”
She swallowed hard, then snapped, “This is exactly why I kept him a secret. This world chews up innocents and spits out their bones.”
“You think hiding him makes him safe?” Darius’s voice rose, raw with frustration. “You think I wouldn’t have burned down kingdoms to protect my own blood?”
“You didn’t want that blood!” she fired back, fury and pain bleeding through every word. “You didn’t want me!”
The truth in that hit him like a punch. He stepped closer, his chest heaving, his eyes molten gold. “I didn’t deserve you. But that never meant I didn’t want you.”
The air between them tightened like a wire pulled taut.
Seraphina’s breath came in quick, shallow bursts. His scent—pine, smoke, male—wrapped around her like a trap she almost wanted to fall into.
“Don’t,” she whispered, though her voice trembled. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m done pretending I don’t burn for you,” he said, his voice a rough growl. “And I’m done letting anyone—my brother, the pack, the gods—decide what’s mine.”
Her pulse skittered. “You don’t get to claim me now, Darius. You lost that right.”
He leaned in, so close she felt the heat of his breath ghost her lips. “Then tell me to stop wanting you. Tell me to stop remembering what you taste like.”
Her eyes slammed shut for a split second too long. When she opened them, he saw the truth flicker there before she masked it with ice.
“We need to move,” she said, turning on her heel.
But not before he caught the way her hands trembled.
As they walked, the forest stretched dark and endless around them, but the real storm was inside them both—danger and desire, tangled so tight it was about to snap.
And somewhere in that darkness, Darius’s brother smiled, already setting his next trap.
The storm rolled in fast, swallowing the forest in bruised clouds and a wind that howled like a thousand wolves.
By the time Darius and Seraphina reached higher ground, rain was hammering through the canopy, turning the forest floor to slick mud.
“We need shelter,” Darius said over the roar of thunder.
Seraphina hugged her cloak tighter. “No kidding. Any brilliant ideas, Alpha?”
He gave her a sharp look at the sarcasm, but said nothing—just sniffed the air and broke into a run. She cursed under her breath and followed.
They crashed through the underbrush until the jagged mouth of a cave appeared ahead, half-hidden behind a fallen pine.
Darius ducked inside first, scanning for threats. When he turned back, rain sluiced down his bare forearms, muscles tense and gleaming like carved stone in the flicker of lightning.
“Clear,” he said. “Get in.”
Seraphina hesitated—because stepping into that cave with him felt more dangerous than the storm outside. But thunder cracked like the earth splitting in half, and she darted in after him.
The space was narrow, deep enough to keep them dry, but not much else. Water dripped steadily from the mouth, and the air smelled of wet stone and wolf musk—his musk, thick and heady.
“Stay put,” he said, stripping off his soaked jacket and wringing it out.
She swallowed hard as her gaze snagged on the play of muscles beneath his black shirt, plastered to his skin by the rain. She tore her eyes away, furious at herself—and at him for looking like sin carved in flesh.
“You’re dripping all over the floor,” she muttered.
He shot her a look. “Floor’s already wet, Seraphina.”
Lightning flashed, and in that silver strobe, their eyes locked. Her breath caught—and he saw it.
Slowly, deliberately, he peeled the shirt over his head.
She spun toward the cave wall, heat slamming into her cheeks. “You—what are you doing?”
“Trying not to freeze to death.” His voice was velvet over gravel. “Unless you’d rather I kept it on and got hypothermia.”
Her jaw clenched. “You’re impossible.”
“And you’re staring,” he said softly.
She whirled back, ready to deny it, but the words tangled in her throat when she saw him—bare-chested, rainwater tracing every line of muscle down to the low slant of his hips.
“Put it back on,” she snapped, even as her pulse rioted.
“No fire,” he said, ignoring her command. “No dry clothes. We share heat or we both get sick.”
Her heart stopped. “Absolutely not.”
“Absolutely yes,” he countered, closing the distance with slow, predatory grace. “Unless you want to explain to your precious son why his mother died because she was too stubborn to let an Alpha hold her.”
Low blow. And he knew it.
Her lips parted—rage, denial, something else burning behind her eyes—but then thunder shook the earth, and the temperature dropped another cruel notch.
Darius crouched, spreading his jacket like a blanket against the cold stone. Then he looked up at her, gold eyes gleaming in the dim. “Last chance, Seraphina. Come here… or I’ll come get you.”
Her wolf whimpered inside her, traitorous and hungry. She hated him. She wanted him. Both truths sliced her in half.
With a muttered curse, she crossed the few feet between them—and gasped when he pulled her down onto his lap in one smooth motion.
“Darius—”
“Shh.” His voice was a growl against her ear. “Just warmth. Unless…” His breath feathered over her neck. “Unless you want more.”
She shivered so hard it had nothing to do with the cold.
For a long moment, neither moved. Her back pressed to his chest, her heartbeat a wild, staccato drum against his steady thrum. Heat bled from his skin into hers, making her dizzy, making her remember the nights when his touch was her entire world.
“You smell the same,” he murmured, inhaling her scent like a starving man. “Like moonlight and damnation.”
“Don’t,” she whispered.
“I can’t stop,” he confessed, voice fraying. “Not when you’re this close. Not when I know what we made together.”
Her body locked. “You—what?”
He shifted, so she had no choice but to face him. His hand cupped her jaw, gentle where his words were raw. “Do you think I wouldn’t know my blood in another heartbeat? The moment that boy said what he said… I felt him, Seraphina. Our son. Mine. Yours. Ours.”
Tears burned her eyes before she could stop them. “He’s not safe.”
“He will be,” Darius vowed, and for a terrifying, breathtaking moment, she believed him.
But before she could speak, a sound slithered through the storm—low, guttural, wrong.
Darius’s head snapped toward the cave mouth, his body coiling tight.
“Rogues,” he hissed. “And not alone.”
Seraphina grabbed his arm. “What do we do?”
He bared his teeth, eyes blazing gold in the dark. “We fight.”
And as the first shadow lunged through the storm, the cave became a crucible—of blood, fury, and a fire neither of them could smother anymore.
- Writer
