The storm outside Blackthorn Tower breaks at the same moment Lucian's words do.
"You're not going anywhere."
His voice is calm—too calm. The kind of calm that vibrates with the promise of violence underneath. The kind of calm predators use right before they strike.
I swallow hard.
"Lucian… you can't just lock me inside your penthouse like—"
"Like what?" he murmurs, stepping closer.
"A woman who has a target on her back?"
"A human who has no idea what hunts her?"
"Or the mate I already bled for?"
The air thickens, heavy enough that breathing hurts. My pulse stutters, then races—traitorously responding to him even when my brain screams danger.
I force myself to hold his gaze.
"I don't belong to you."
Something sharp flickers across his face.
"Say that again."
"No."
"Not the 'no,' Arielle." His voice lowers, darkens. "The lie."
A shiver runs down my spine. He's too close now. Too warm. Too much.
"Lucian—"
He moves so fast I barely see it.
One second he's standing an arm's length away.
The next his hand slams onto the wall beside my head, caging me in with his body.
"Do you really think you can deny what's written in your blood?" he whispers, breath brushing my cheek.
"Because the rogues won't deny it. They can smell you from miles away."
"Then tell me why!" My voice cracks. "Tell me what they want, what this curse is—why my shoulder burns when you look at me! You keep saying I'm in danger but you won't explain anything!"
His jaw clenches—not with anger, but with restraint.
"I'm trying not to frighten you," he says softly.
"You're failing."
His eyes flicker—silver bleeding into a dangerous light.
"You want the truth?" he asks quietly. "All of it?"
"Yes."
He leans in until his forehead nearly touches mine.
"You're not ready for the truth."
I shove at his chest—idiotic, pointless, but I do it anyway.
"Stop deciding things for me! Stop treating me like I'm… breakable."
His hand closes around my wrist—not hard, but firm enough to stop me.
"I don't treat you like you're breakable." His voice is deep, rough.
"I treat you like you're mine."
My breath stutters.
"Lucian…"
"You don't understand what it cost me," he murmurs. "To stay away for five years. To let you grow up without me. To pretend I didn't feel the mark burning every time you got too close to danger."
"I'm human," I whisper. "I can't feel anything like that."
"But your body remembers," he says. "Your soul remembers. Fate ties stronger knots than you think."
My skin tingles—not just from fear. Something warmer. Something terrifying.
I turn my head away, desperately needing space.
He lets me go.
It shocks me.
The Alpha who commands armies of wolves… stepping back from me.
A muscle ticks in his jaw—as if he's fighting himself.
"Arielle," he says carefully, "I'm giving you one warning. Only one. Do not leave this place tonight."
"Why?"
His eyes go cold.
"Because the rogues have your scent again. And they're not hunting you to kill you."
A chill slices through me.
"What do they want?"
His throat works once—like he hates the answer.
"They want your blood. They want what's inside it. What you don't know you carry."
"My… blood?"
He nods.
"And they won't stop until they take you."
I feel the room tilt.
The ground shifting under my feet.
"What's in my blood, Lucian?"
Silence.
Then
"A legacy older than your father. Older than your family name. A secret he died protecting."
"My father? You knew him?"
"He begged me," Lucian says, voice cracking the faintest bit. "Begged me to keep you hidden from our world. To let you live normal. Human. Safe."
My knees weaken.
My father… knew about this?
"Why didn't he tell me?"
"Because he knew the truth would destroy you," Lucian says softly. "The same way it destroyed your mother."
My heart stops.
"My mother died in a car accident."
He meets my eyes. The sorrow in his feels ancient.
"No, Arielle. She didn't."
I back away from him, shaking my head.
"No. No—don't do this. Don't twist things."
He follows—but slower this time. Careful.
"I won't lie to you. Not now."
"My mother—she couldn't have—"
"She was marked," Lucian says. "Just like you."
Something inside me splinters.
And he sees it.
In one swift motion, he reaches me again, but this time his hands stay at his sides. He doesn't touch me. He doesn't cage me in. He just stands close enough that I can feel his warmth.
"Arielle," he murmurs, "the rogues didn't kill your mother. But they would have. She died trying to protect you."
Tears burn hot behind my eyelids.
"I don't believe you."
"You will."
"How?"
He lifts his hand and slowly—slowly—touches the back of my shoulder. Right over the mark.
It burns instantly.
Not painful.
A heat that pulses.
Answers.
Awakening.
Images flash in my mind.
Trees.
Moonlight.
Red.
Shadows chasing.
A woman's scream.
A wolf with silver eyes—
Lucian
I gasp and jerk back.
"What did you—"
"I let the bond show you a fraction," he says. "Nothing more."
"I didn't ask you to!"
"No," he agrees. "But you needed to know the danger you're in."
His face hardens.
"And the danger I am."
My voice is barely a whisper.
"What are you, Lucian? Truly?"
He doesn't answer with words.
His eyes shift—silver exploding into molten light, an otherworldly glow that isn't human in any universe.
Then I hear it.
Not aloud.
Not imagined.
A growl.
Inside his chest.
Inside his bones.
Inside me.
It's low, vicious, possessive.
A sound no man should make.
"I am the Alpha of the Blackthorn Pack," he says, voice layered with something deeper. Something not human.
"I am the wolf you saw that night. The one who saved you. The one who marked you."
I grip the table to steady myself.
He steps closer—slow, deliberate, dangerous.
"And now," he whispers, "I am losing control again."
My pulse spikes.
"Why?"
"You," he breathes. "You're too close. Your scent… your fear… your tears…"
His breathing grows heavier.
Rougher.
Sharper.
"…my wolf can't stand it."
"Lucian—"
"Don't come any closer," he warns, voice breaking. "I'm hanging by a thread."
But I'm not moving.
His fists clench.
His chest rises and falls in harsh, uneven breaths.
Then
His eyes flash pure wolf.
Full shift-threatening.
"Lucian!" I choke. "Stop— you're scaring me!"
His jaw snaps tight. He spins away, slamming a hand on the counter so hard it cracks.
"That," he growls, "is why you must not leave this tower tonight. Not until I get control. Not until I know the rogues can't reach you."
I stare at him—breathless, shaking, unable to decide if I should run or reach for him.
Then he turns his head just enough for me to see the war happening in his expression.
"Arielle," he says hoarsely, "listen to me carefully."
The air around him feels electrified.
The storm outside rages harder.
Something ancient presses against my spine.
"This is your first and last warning."
He faces me fully again—eyes glowing, wolf right under the surface.
"If you step outside this penthouse tonight…"
His voice drops to a lethal whisper.
"…you won't make it back alive."
My breath freezes.
"And if any rogue touches you before I get control…"
His teeth grit, breath shuddering.
"…I will tear this entire city apart."
A hush blankets the room.
Then, softer—breaking
"Arielle, please. Don't make me lose you."
My heart aches so sharply it feels like it splits.
But before I can speak, before I can decide whether to trust him or run—
The lights flicker.
The windows tremble.
And somewhere far below us…
A howl rises.
Long.
Cold.
Hungry.
Lucian's entire body goes rigid.
"Too late," he whispers.
The rogues have found me.