When the Past Comes Knocking
533 Words
Darius felt it the moment he crossed Bloodmoon’s border.
The territory snarled at him.
Every instinct screamed danger, but something stronger pulled him forward—sharp, obsessive, unrelenting.
Lyra.
She was alive. He could feel it. Different. Stronger.
And it made his chest burn with regret.
“You have nerve coming here.”
Darius turned to find Alpha Alaric standing at the tree line, posture relaxed, power radiating effortlessly.
“I want to speak to her,” Darius demanded. “She’s mine.”
The air exploded.
Alaric moved so fast Darius barely had time to react before he was slammed into a tree, Alaric’s forearm crushing his throat.
“She stopped being yours the moment you broke her,” Alaric growled, eyes glowing silver. “You don’t get to come into my territory and make demands.”
Darius struggled. “She was my mate.”
“You rejected her,” Alaric snapped. “That forfeits all claim.”
Lyra felt the clash like thunder.
She rushed toward the clearing, heart racing as she saw them—two Alphas locked in a deadly standoff.
“Stop!” she shouted.
Both men froze.
Alaric stepped back immediately, though his gaze never left Darius. “Lyra. Go back.”
“No,” she said, voice shaking but firm. “I need to say this.”
She turned to Darius, pain and fury churning in her chest. “You don’t get to come for me now. You humiliated me. You shattered me.”
“I made a mistake,” he said hoarsely. “I didn’t understand—”
“No,” she cut in. “You understood. You just didn’t care.”
Darius reached for her.
Alaric moved instantly, stepping between them, his body a solid wall.
“Touch her,” Alaric said coldly, “and I will kill you.”
Lyra’s breath caught—not in fear.
In heat.
The possessiveness in his stance, the way he shielded her without question, sent her wolf into a frenzy.
Darius stared at them, realization dawning. “You feel it,” he said to Lyra. “Whatever this is… it’s not real.”
Lyra lifted her chin. “It’s real enough that I’m choosing it.”
Alaric glanced back at her, surprise flickering briefly before something darker replaced it.
Claim.
“Leave,” Alaric ordered Darius. “Before restraint stops being an option.”
Darius hesitated—then backed away, fury and loss etched across his face.
When he was gone, silence fell.
Alaric turned to Lyra, his expression unreadable. “You shouldn’t have had to face him.”
“I needed to,” she said softly. “Thank you… for standing between us.”
His gaze dropped to her lips, just for a moment.
“Careful,” he murmured. “You’re standing on the edge of something you can’t undo.”
Her heart pounded. “Maybe I want to.”
For a long, breathless second, neither of them moved.
Then Alaric stepped back, jaw tight with restraint. “Go inside.”
Lyra obeyed—but as she walked away, she felt it.
The shift.
The slow, inevitable pull of a bond not born of fate—
But choice.
- Writer
