Lucien stepped forward, every inch the alpha. He stared the intruder down, the air between them crackling with threat. The rogue was still in human form, still smirking like he didn’t feel the weight of death breathing down his neck.
Lucien’s voice cut through the tension, low and lethal, carrying the authority of every battle he’d won, every packmate he’d bled for.
“
You speak big for a man standing on borrowed time.”
The rogue laughed-a hollow, humorless sound. “Enjoy your throne while you can, Alpha. There are packs closing in who’ll tear it out from under you. All your power, all your rules are meaningless. You and your pets won’t know what hit you.”
That was it. That was all the chance Lucien gave him.
Without hesitation, Lucien shifted. The transition was brutal in its beauty-bones snapping, flesh giving way to fur, hands lengthening into claws. The change was so fast, so seamless, it stole the breath from my lungs. His wolf sprang forward, silver and fury incarnate.
The rogue barely had time to react. He dropped to all fours, his body contorting, the crack and pop of shifting filling the air. His wolf form was leaner, darker, quick-but not quick enough. Lucien was on him before his shift was complete. He hit him like a storm, all muscle and rage, driving the rogue into the ground. The sound of impact-bone, soil, the wet snap of cartilage-echoed through the trees.
They tore into each other, a blur of fur and teeth, claws slashing, jaws snapping. The rogue fought, but he was no match for Lucien’s relentlessness. His jaws found the rogue’s scruff, his shoulder, his side-each bite a warning, each strike measured. He didn’t kill him, but he left his mark. Blood slicked the ground.
The rogue let out a high, broken yelp. His body went limp beneath Lucien’s weight, his tail tucked, his ears flattened to his skull. “
Mercy,” he howled. “
Mercy, please
?
–
“
Lucien didn’t let go right away. He held the rogue down, his teeth at the soft place where neck met shoulder, a breath away from ending it. His growl vibrated through the ground, through my chest, through the bones of every wolf standing watch. When he finally released him, the rogue collapsed, trembling, whining, belly to the dirt.
Lucien shifted back into his human form, towering over the crumpled wolf, eyes blazing. He grabbed the scruff of the rogue’s neck, yanked him upright like he weighed nothing, and snarled into his ear.
“
Go back. Crawl to whoever sent you. Tell them what you found here. Tell them this land is mine. Tell them I protect my pack with tooth, claw, and fire. If they come again, they won’t get mercy. They’ll get death.”
The rogue was struggling, desperate to flee. He bolted across the border, limping, blood marking his trail, disappearing into the night with his tail between his legs. We stayed until his scent was nothing more than memory, until the wind erased the last trace of his cowardice. The forest went still, the stars sharp above, the world holding its breath.
Lucien turned, his face carved in stone, his chest heaving, hands streaked with blood. His gaze swept over us, and no words were needed. The law had been enforced. The line had been drawn. We would not be challenged again. Not without consequence.
We shifted back together, the sound of bone and sinew echoing through the air. I could feel the adrenaline still humming in my veins, my wolf just beneath my skin, ready, waiting. But Lucien’s calm washed over us all, steadying us. We quietly put our clothes back on, waiting until everyone was ready before we left.
As we started back to the estate, my thoughts spun.
Lucien, with his ridiculous trophy commissions, his enchanted scavenger apps, his obsession with brunch and garlands, was too much. Too loud, too dramatic, too sentimental for his own damn good. But this- this was the core of him. The reason no one ever dared to truly cross him. The reason we followed without question. The alpha who would rip apart anyone who threatened his own. The protector who would bleed before he let harm come to his pack.
And as we moved through the trees, my mind turned to Maggie. To her laughter, her warmth. I’d protect it with everything I had. Just like Lucien. Just like family.
Because that’s what we were now. And I’d tear down heaven and earth before I let anyone take it from us.
Maggie
The silence was the worst part. It filled the spaces between heartbeats, stretched seconds into hours, and made every creak of the house, every gust of wind outside, sound like the world was holding its breath. I paced the floor in front of the door, arms wrapped tight around myself, staring at that heavy oak as if I could will Roman through it. The walls here were thick and ancient, laced with protective wards that shimmered faintly if you squinted at just the right angle. But all the magic in the world didn’t stop me from imagining the worst.
I’d tried to sit. Tried to distract myself. It lasted maybe five minutes before I was up again and back to wearing a path in the rug. The estate was too quiet now. No laughter from the courtyard, no distant clink of Lucien’s ridiculous goblets. Just the weight of waiting.
When the door finally opened, I could finally breathe again. Roman stepped in first, a little disheveled, dirt on his boots, but whole. His eyes found mine right away, and the tension in my shoulders evaporated instantly. Lucien followed close behind, looking like he’d stepped out of a battle and straight into a photoshoot-blood smeared on his hands, hair smoothed back, his silver cufflinks glinting like the fight had been nothing more than an inconvenient errand.
“Everyone’s safe,” Roman said in that steady, low rumble that always made it easier to keep myself together.
Lucien grinned, all charisma and charm again.
“And now that that unpleasantness is behind us,” he declared, clapping his hands like he was starting a party rather than having just enforced pack law, “we simply must return to the matter at hand. The games! The bonding! The magic of union!” His eyes gleamed with a theatrical sparkle, as if the threat at the border hadn’t happened. “Come, come. Let the hunt continue!”
I barely heard him. Roman crossed the room in a few long strides, and before I could think better of it, I was in his arms. His warmth soaked through me, grounding, real. I gripped the back of his shirt, wanting to anchor myself to him.
“You’re okay?” I asked against his chest, my voice small, my heart still trying to slow down. “You’re not hurt?”
“I’m okay,” he said, his hands smoothing down my back, his cheek brushing my hair. “Promise. It was handled. I’m here.”
I pulled back to look him over, scanning for scrapes, bruises-anything that might say otherwise. He let me fuss, a small, crooked smile tugging at his mouth.
“You’d tell me, right? If something?-“
“I’d tell you, Mags,” he said softly, brushing his thumb over my cheek, his eyes steady on mine. “I swear.”
The world could’ve burned down, and I wouldn’t have noticed. He was here. That was all that mattered.
Lucien cleared his throat-loudly and dramatically as only Lucien could. “As touching as this is,” he said, spreading his arms toward the courtyard where the rest of the couples were regrouping, “true bonding happens in the crucible of competition! Off you go!”
Roman took my hand, lacing our fingers together like it was second nature. Maybe it was.
“Ready to take the city by storm?” he asked with a relaxed grin that made me want to believe everything was fine.
“Let’s do it,” I said, the weight of worry finally starting to lift as we stepped back into the night.
The first clue that came through Lucien’s app read like something out of a fantasy novel:
Seek shelter in the city’s ancient heart. The letters shimmered gold across the screen, vines curling at the edges of the message. I could practically hear Lucien’s voice in my head.
Roman smirked as he slid behind the wheel of his car, the engine purring to life. “City’s ancient heart. Subtle.”
I groaned as I buckled my seatbelt. “Do you think he writes these clues with a quill pen by candlelight?”
“Absolutely,” Roman said, pulling onto the road. “Lucien loves theatrics.”
The estate disappeared behind us, the city lights calling in the distance. “Probably in a leather-bound journal with ‘Alpha Musings’ embossed on the cover.”
The drive out to Muir Woods was easy, the city fading into hills and trees, the night cool and clear. Roman kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting between us, close enough that the back of his knuckles brushed mine every now and then. We didn’t need to fill the space with words.
When we reached the park, the world changed. The air became cooler and damper, carrying the sharp green scent of moss and pine and earth that had never known concrete. The moonlight slipped through the canopy in silver threads, the towering redwoods casting ancient and watchful shadows on the ground.
We moved quietly, fallen needles crunching under our shoes. The forest felt alive in a way the city never could. Every breath tasted like rain. Every sound-our steps, the distant chatter of hikers somewhere along another trail, the soft hoot of an owl-seemed magnified in the stillness.
Roman found the hollow tree first, a massive redwood with an opening wide enough for us to slip inside. “There’s our ancient heart.”
We squeezed into the space together, the bark rough against my back, his chest brushing mine as he shifted to make room. No awkwardness. No tension. Only warmth. It made me feel safe.
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