Between Destiny's Chains and Moonlight (Book Series)

Chapter 3 – The Price of Freedom

Desperately, my gaze ricocheted between two disasters waiting to happen: the jackal still thrashing in the waterfall as if it were rehearsing for a disaster movie nobody wanted tickets to, and the towering man now blocking the cave entrance like a bouncer at the worst nightclub in town.

I was trapped between two forces of nature, two dangerous walls closing in.

Lesser of two evils?

Ha. Both options meant the snatching away of my hard-won freedom, but my choice had to be the path where I could simply stay alive the longest. On one hand, I had a shape-shifting shaman who absolutely meant no good. On the other, I had a Lycan who seemed to think I was the missing piece to his royal puzzle.

But if survival was the game, the longer-lasting path was, with sickening certainty, Romani’s. At least the Lycan wanted me breathing, even if it was just to be a very expensive piece of furniture in his castle.

“My Belle,” he murmured. “It looks like you’ll have to stay with me after all.”

I didn't answer. I just glared.

“Believe me,” he continued, taking a predatory step closer, “that shaman won’t do you any favors. He’s the type to turn a girl like you into an ingredient. While I… I guarantee you a luxurious life, full of passion, and certainly never—and I mean absolutely never—boring.”

His whisper painted unsettling mental pictures I did not ask for. My imagination was already running a Netflix series of his promises, and I wasn’t sure I liked the genre. It felt like a high-budget romance novel I’d usually make fun of, only now I was the one on the cover, and I was currently lacking a wardrobe and a plan.

Resigning myself to an unforeseen fate, I turned and walked further into the cave.

I carefully avoided any physical contact with him as I passed, though the air around him crackled with an energy that threatened to fry my nerves. It was like standing too close to a power line during a downpour.

I braced myself against the cold, rough stone of the cave wall and slid down until I was seated on the damp floor, knees drawn up to my chest.

“Tell me, Ana,” he began, settling onto the ground opposite me with the casual grace of someone who had never had to worry about damp pants. “What are you doing outside your pack? You’re a hybrid, which makes you a rare prize or a walking target.”

“I’m just a tourist,” I muttered, tracing invisible patterns on my bare knees.

“You said you’re a lone wolf,” he pressed, ignoring my sarcasm. “But was that a choice, or were you banished for being a handful? What’s the true reason for your flight?”

I looked up, my voice deliberately flat.

“That’s a long story. I’m focused on the future right now. With this cave no longer safe for me, it’s time to plan my next move. I’ll probably end up in a human town, where I can rent a tiny apartment and find work.”

“Work?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Preferably somewhere very, very far from here,” I added. “Maybe a nice cubicle job where the only thing hunting me is a deadline.”

A low, guttural growl suddenly vibrated in the air. Before I even registered his movement, the man was beside me. His fingers, surprisingly gentle yet firm, cupped my jaw, lifting my face to meet his gaze.

“You’re coming with me to the kingdom,” he stated. “And you will become my princess. That is your destiny.”

I swallowed hard.

His eyes had deepened to a fiery, dangerous red. His wolf was clearly losing patience with my ‘career plans’.

“Isn’t that a little fast?” I managed to stammer. “We just met. Usually, people go for coffee first. A relationship takes time to blossom, you know? You can't just skip to the ‘Happily Ever After’ part without the awkward first dates.”

“What do you think? We are werewolves,” he countered. He leaned even closer, his scent—rain, cedar, and something intoxicating—enveloping me.

“We don't know a courtship period. When a mate is found, they are claimed. It's not a negotiation, Ana. It’s a recognition.”

Then his lips descended, overpowering mine.

The kiss started rough and possessive, a fierce demand that stole the air right out of my lungs. But as he felt my subtle resistance, my initial ‘I-should-really-run’ rigidity, it softened. It became tender, persuasive, a lingering exploration that coaxed my senses rather than demanding them.

A delicious warmth began to spread through my body. Against my better judgment, my body betrayed me, pressing closer to his solid form.

“That’s more like it, my Belle,” Romani whispered huskily as he nibbled gently on my lower lip.

I let out a soft, involuntary cry. It was embarrassing, honestly.

“Hmmm, Slade, my wolf, is so ready to mark you,” he purred, his breath hot against my skin. “But it’s too early. We’ll do that once we’re home, where we’ll have all the time in the world to ourselves. A shaman so close by is truly a joykill.”

The mention of the shaman sobered me considerably. I tried to pull away from his embrace, but his arms tightened.

“Tell me now,” he insisted. “Who is your alpha, and to which pack do you belong? And why did you leave? I need to know all of that to plan our future together.”

“Future?” I challenged with suspicion. “Do you plan to keep me alive? Or do you mean to keep me in your dungeons? I’ve seen how 'royalty' treats hybrids. We're either tools or trophies.”

He slowly lifted my face to his and pecked my lips, a soft, brief kiss that felt way too sweet for a k********g.

“Very much alive, and definitely not in the dungeons. My bed is far more comfortable, and believe me, once you’re in it, you won’t want to leave so soon.”

I felt a blush creep up my neck.

“Listen, it’s not what you think. Let’s just forget all of this. I’m sure you have more important king-things to do.”

“Forget it?” He looked amused.

“As soon as the shaman is gone,” I began, trying to inject some steel into my voice, “I’m leaving. And you can get back to your business.”

His response was to kiss me again, and this time, it was a total knockout. I couldn't remain cold or unresponsive; my body undermined my resolve with every heartbeat. We became a moaning, tangled mess, my fingers tangling in his dark, silken hair as we hungrily plundered each other’s mouths.

Eventually, the urgent need for air forced us apart.

“Ana, my Belle,” he asked, his voice hoarse with raw desire, “does it still not ring a bell?”

“What bell?” I wheezed, trying to find my dignity.

“You are my mate!”

He growled it, but it sounded like a victory. “You belong to me! Under no circumstances will I let you go.”