A Choice Before Dawn
1283 Words
The silence of the bedroom felt heavy after the forest's symphony.
Talia shut the door softly, leaning her forehead against the cool wood. Her skin still buzzed. It was a physical sensation, a humming vibration that lived deep in her marrow—the aftershocks of running with an Alpha King.
For an hour, she hadn’t been Talia the refugee or the rogue or the rejected mate. She had been a queen of the wild, flanking a beast of shadow and lightning. Lucian and his wolf, Savage, had shared his power with her, a torrent that knit her torn muscles and soothed the constant, gnawing ache in her bones.
He is perfect, Kaela sighed. The wolf curled up, practically purring, drunk on the potency of the King’s aura. Did you feel him, Talia? He held back for us. He is a mountain, and he moves like a breeze so that we can keep up.
He’s buying us, Talia countered, pushing off the door and stepping into the dim room. He offers a crown, not a heart.
He offers a pack, Kaela snapped, suddenly alert. He offers territory. He offers blood that doesn’t run cold with fear every time a twig snaps. What does love matter if we’re dead in a ditch?
Talia didn’t answer. She moved to the bed where Alina slept.
The contrast was jarring. In the woods, Talia had felt exposed and hunted. Here, in the gray pre-dawn light, the truth lay tangled in the sheets. Alina looked translucent. The frantic dash across the border, the time spent sleeping in filth, the lack of food—it had stolen some of her youth from her face. What started as an adventure for her naive sister quickly turned into a horror story.
Alina wasn’t a warrior. She was an artist, a gentle soul who wilted under frost while Talia hardened.
Talia sat on the edge of the mattress, the springs groaning softly. She brushed a strand of blonde hair from Alina’s face. Her sister flinched in her sleep, a slight, pained sound escaping her lips.
We can’t keep running, the thought struck hard. She won’t survive another winter on the road.
Lucian’s words echoed: You will be worshiped. Cherished. Protected.
He had stopped. Against the tree, with her legs around him and his control fraying by the second—he had stopped because she asked him to. Thomas had never stopped. Thomas had taken from her until there was nothing left. She thought that was love, passion. She had nothing to compare it to.
Lucian had the power to crush her, yet had treated her like something sacred.
Was that love? No. But it was respect. And perhaps respect was sturdier than romance.
Alina stirred. Her lashes fluttered, blue eyes hazy with exhaustion. She blinked, focusing.
“You’re back,” she whispered, voice rough. She pushed herself up, sniffing. Her eyes widened. “Talia… you smell like rain. You smell like him.”
Talia stiffened, touching her neck where Lucian’s lips had been. “We went for a run. To test my injuries.”
“And?”
“I’m healed,” Talia admitted. She flexed her hand, the tendons smooth and painless. “His aura… It’s not like anything I’ve ever felt. It fixes things.”
Alina sat up fully, clutching the duvet. A desperate, fragile hope replaced the fear that usually lived in her gaze.
“So we’re staying?”
Talia looked at the window. The sky was turning bruised purple; dawn was minutes away—the deadline.
“He offered me the position of Luna. Mated, a marriage. A permanent alliance.”
“But?” Alina heard the hesitation.
“He was honest,” Talia said quietly. “He said he couldn’t offer love. It’s political. Strategic. He wants a strong heir and secure borders.”
Alina let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh. “Talia, look at me.”
Talia turned.
“We have three dollars. Winter is coming. No vehicle. No shelter,” Alina said, trembling, but fierce. “Hunters are tracking us. They want to mount your head on a wall and turn me into a slave. I don’t care if he loves you. I care if he can keep you alive. Does he look at you like he wants to protect you?”
“Yes,” Talia whispered. “He looks at me like I’m the only valuable thing in the world.”
“Then take the deal,” Alina pleaded, grabbing Talia’s hand. Her grip was weak, fingers cold. “Please, T. I can’t do it anymore. I can’t sleep on the road again, being hunted and freezing. While we were out there, I couldn't help but fear that every branch breaking behind us was Thomas’s men. I’m so tired.”
The raw honesty shattered the last of Talia’s resistance.
It wasn’t about her. Or a childhood dream of a fated mate who brought flowers.
Kaela snorted. Yup. You see where that got us.
It was about the cold, trembling hand in hers. It was about survival.
Kaela rose in her mind, decisive. We accept. We become the Queen this pack needs. And we make him fall in love later. It’s inevitable. We’re hard to ignore, you and I.
Talia squeezed Alina’s hand. “Okay. We stay.”
Alina slumped back, tears leaking from her eyes. “Thank you. Thank the Goddess.”
“Get some sleep,” Talia said, her voice steadying. “I need to find him. I need to tell him before sunrise.”
“Don’t keep the King waiting,” Alina murmured, drifting off, a faint smile on her lips.
Talia stood, smoothing her shirt—the oversized one that held Lucian’s intoxicating scent. She hesitated a moment, her hand hovering over the brass handle.
This was it. The moment she turned this handle, she wasn’t just Talia the rejected mate, the dumped future Luna, the rogue.
She needed to stop fearing she was trading freedom for a gilded cage.
No.
A fortress.
She gripped the handle and turned.
It opened easily. It wasn’t locked. He hadn’t trapped her. He had left the choice entirely in her hands.
Relief washed through her. He was a man of his word.
Before she stepped into the hallway, the floor murmured under a weight and fell silent. She didn’t need scent to know who moved—clean wool, cedar, snow. The Beta. He was checking on her sister. Good. Warmth spread low in her chest.
The silence of the house had changed. Not peaceful.
Charged.
A held breath.
Then we agree, wolf. No more running. There’s a future here. I want that.
Outside, something metallic clicked—gate chain, maybe—and then the faint shhh of wind through fur.
She crossed to the window. Thick curtains trapped warmth. She parted them with two fingers. The air carried pine, cold stone, wood smoke. Under that, the clean cut of oil and gunmetal from men patrolling the grounds.
At the tree line, a man turned; even at a distance, the angle of the head was unmistakable.
Lucian.
He wasn’t looking at her—she was almost sure. He had been looking at the house. Guarding it.
You feel that? Kaela murmured. That’s protection.
Or, Talia replied, another cage.
Kaela huffed. Stop with the spreadsheets, Talia. Accept the offer. The rest we can work on.
“Spreadsheets keep us breathing,” Talia muttered aloud.
She let the curtain fall and returned to bed. She stared at her sleeping sister.
“Okay,” she whispered. “Anything for you.”
Alina whispered, already drifting off, “For us.”
- Writer
