Lyra Stormveil crouched behind a thick oak tree, barely daring to breathe.
Her heart hammered so hard she thought it might give her away. The forest was too quiet, and quiet meant danger.
They're out there, she thought. I can feel them.
She wasn't exaggerating. Shadows moved between the trees—hunters. Wolves from Nightfang territory, sent to find her. She had been hiding Rowan Ashclaw for weeks, the rogue everyone had marked for death. If they found him… no one would survive.
"Lyra…" a low voice whispered behind her.
She turned sharply. Rowan stepped out from the shadows, black cloak draped over his shoulders, eyes alert and wary. Even crouched, he looked lethal, like a predator ready to strike.
"You shouldn't have followed me this far," she said, voice tight. "It's too dangerous."
"And miss seeing you scold me?" Rowan smirked, though tension was clear in his posture. "You know me better than that."
Lyra's eyes softened, just slightly. "Better than anyone should."
His wolf growled low in his chest, restless. He could feel her wolf too—small, fragile, and desperate to protect her. And yet… it wanted him.
He stepped closer. "You're mine, Lyra. You feel it too, don't you?"
She swallowed hard, fighting the flutter in her chest. How can I? We're supposed to be hiding. We're supposed to survive, not… feel this.
"I—" she began, then bit her lip. Her pulse sped, her body betraying her mind. "I do," she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.
The forest seemed to notice. The wind shifted. Leaves rustled. Danger was still there, waiting, but the two of them didn't care. Not yet.
Rowan reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against hers. The spark was instantaneous. Electric. Dangerous. I shouldn't feel this, Lyra told herself, but her wolf growled in defiance.
"You have no idea what you're doing to me," he said softly, voice rough with need.
"You have no idea either," she whispered back.
They stayed like that for a long moment, close enough to feel each other's heartbeat, far enough to remember survival came first.
Then a rustle in the underbrush made them both freeze.
"Move," Rowan ordered, low and controlled. "Now."
They vanished into the shadows, hearts racing, wolves screaming beneath their skin. Fate had found them, and it wasn't waiting for permission.
---
Meanwhile, miles away, Arielle sat in her cabin, still thinking of Kael.
Why does he haunt me like this? she thought, curling her hands around her knees. I don't even know him, and yet…
Her wolf stirred again, restless and insistent. The bond pulsed in her veins. It ached. Ached in ways she couldn't explain.
And somewhere, beyond the trees, Kael Blackthorn's silver eyes burned with the same torment.
I rejected her, he reminded himself. I can't let her near me. I won't.
But the bond screamed otherwise.
And fate… had already started pulling them together.