Chapter Eight: Choosing Her
941 Words
The air felt suffocating.
Ayla stood just beyond the edge of the house, the cool night brushing against her skin, but it did nothing to calm the storm inside her chest.
Everything was too loud.
Her thoughts.
Her heartbeat.
The bond.
Especially the bond.
It pulsed relentlessly, stronger than before, like it was fighting her—refusing to be ignored, refusing to be pushed aside.
But she had made her choice.
She had to.
Footsteps sounded behind her.
She didn’t need to turn to know it was him.
“You keep running,” Lucan said quietly.
Ayla closed her eyes for a second before turning to face him. “And you keep following.”
“I need to know what you’re thinking.”
“No, you don’t,” she said, her voice sharper now. “Because it doesn’t change anything.”
He stepped closer.
Not too close.
But close enough that the bond flared painfully between them.
Ayla stiffened.
“This isn’t something you can just ignore,” he said. “You feel it. I feel it. Pretending it’s not there isn’t going to make it go away.”
“I don’t need it to go away,” she replied, her voice steady despite the ache. “I just need it to not matter.”
His jaw tightened. “That’s not how this works.”
“Well, it is now,” she snapped.
Silence fell between them.
Heavy.
Charged.
Ayla took a slow breath, forcing herself to stay grounded. “You have a mate,” she said more quietly now. “You have a family. Kids who look at you like you’re their whole world.”
His expression shifted slightly at that.
“And she’s my sister,” Ayla added, her voice cracking just a little. “She loves you. She trusts you. I’m not going to be the reason that gets destroyed.”
Lucan ran a hand through his hair, frustration slipping through his usually controlled demeanor. “You think I want that either?”
“Then stop,” she said immediately. “Stop coming after me. Stop looking at me like that. Just—stop.”
The bond pulsed again.
Ayla swallowed hard, forcing the feeling down.
“I’m rejecting this,” she said.
The words hung in the air.
Final.
Heavy.
Lucan froze.
“…You can’t just say that and think it’s done,” he said, quieter now.
“I’m not asking you,” she replied. “I’m telling you.”
Her chest hurt.
Her throat burned.
But she didn’t take it back.
“I reject you as my mate.”
The world went still.
The bond didn’t break.
But it snapped—strained, painful, incomplete.
Lucan’s expression darkened, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.
“Even if you say it,” he said slowly, “it doesn’t erase it.”
“I don’t need it erased,” Ayla whispered. “I just need it to not control me.”
She stepped back.
Putting distance between them.
Between everything.
“I’m leaving,” she said.
That made his head lift.
“What?”
“I can’t stay here,” she continued. “Not like this. Not with her starting to notice. Not with this—” she pressed her hand to her chest “—getting worse.”
“You’re just going to run again?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said, her voice firm now. “This time for the right reason.”
For her sister.
For herself.
For peace.
Lucan didn’t stop her this time.
He just stood there.
Watching.
And somehow—
That hurt more.
⸻
The path through the forest was quiet, lit only by moonlight filtering through the trees. Ayla walked quickly, not fully thinking about where she was going—just knowing she needed distance.
From the house.
From him.
From everything.
Her chest still ached, the bond quieter now but not gone.
Never gone.
She let out a shaky breath, wiping at her eyes before the tears could fall.
“Just keep moving,” she muttered.
Voices up ahead made her pause.
Familiar.
She slowed, stepping closer until she reached a small clearing.
And stopped.
Her older sister Hazel stood there, laughing softly, her hand resting against the chest of a tall man beside her—her mate. The Alpha.
They looked… happy.
Stable.
Untouched by the kind of chaos Ayla felt inside.
“Ayla?” Hazel said, surprised. “What are you doing out here?”
Ayla blinked, caught off guard. “I—just needed air.”
Her sister smiled gently. “You always disappear when something’s on your mind.”
Before Ayla could respond—
A presence shifted behind her.
Heavy.
Sharp.
Different.
Ayla turned.
And the moment their eyes met—
Her breath stopped.
He stood at the edge of the clearing, tall and imposing, his build solid and battle-worn. His features were rougher than the others she’d met, his presence more intense—less controlled, more raw.
Maximus.
She didn’t know his name yet.
But she felt him.
The bond hit instantly.
Not soft.
Not subtle.
Sharp.
Like a spark striking steel.
Ayla’s chest tightened as her heart slammed hard against her ribs.
No…
Not again.
Not so soon.
His eyes locked onto hers, narrowing slightly as recognition flickered through them.
Then—
A smirk.
Slow.
Knowing.
“Well,” he said, voice low and rough, “that’s interesting.”
Ayla took a step back.
Her pulse racing.
Her mind spinning.
Her chest—
Still hurting.
Still tied to another bond she had just tried to reject.
And now—
Another one had found her.
- Writer
