I swallowed hard, my heartbeat pounding against my ribs, too fast. I hadn’t meant to do that. I didn’t even know I could. And now he was staring at me like I was the impossible thing here.

I didn’t need to question it, because somehow, I already knew. The river did this to me.

Its power had settled into my bones, twisting into something other. The hum of magic in my veins and around me was never from the witches. It was from being in the river. And if the pack found that out, it would be my funeral.

His fingers loosened slightly around my arm, his grip no longer restraining.

“What was that?” he murmured.

I forced myself to steady my breathing, even as my muscles locked, and my body coiled like a spring.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, the words bitter, because I hated that they were true. What was I now? A hybrid of wolf and witch? The thought almost made me laugh.

His gaze narrowed. “Yes, you do.”

I scowled, jerking out of his grip. “Don’t tell me what I know.”

He let me go, but his eyes never left me, watching like he was waiting for something. Like he thought I might do it again.

I took a step back, hands trembling, pulse still hammering against my ribs. I wasn’t sticking around any longer. I turned to run but he moved instantly, stepping into my path. His hand came up, not to grab me, but to block my way.

“Luna,” he said, “if you leave now, you might not make it back.”

I snorted, trying to shove past him. “Oh, please’”

“I’m serious,” he snapped, and for the first time, there was something about his voice that didn’t sound like an empty warning.

I hesitated and his jaw ticked, with his shoulders tensing slightly, before he exhaled and continued. “The priestesses will come, and those are not the good ones. There is so much I need to tell you for you to understand what is happening and why you, we, must allow us to happen.”

“I really don’t have time for this.” I muttered, feinting to the side”

And then I ran. I heard him curse under his breath, but he didn’t chase me immediately. I didn’t stop to question why.

Branches lashed against me as I tore through the trees, the damp earth slick under my boots. I had to get back inside Nightclaw’s walls before the gates locked for the night. Had to make sure Lyra was safe, that she wasn’t tainted by their magic too.

Had to make sure no one found out what happened.

If the pack knew the witches had come for me again, I was finished. Selene and the elders would finally have their reason to cast me out for good. Even Kael couldn’t protect me from that.

A branch snapped to my right. Too close, and fast. I pivoted just as my mate materialized beside me, keeping pace like it was nothing, his long coat barely shifting with the wind.

I skidded to a halt, whipping around to face him, panting, frustrated, furious.

“How?” I demanded.

His breathing wasn’t even laboured, like he hadn’t been running at all, and I was the only one struggling here.

His lips quirked, just slightly. “You’re fast, I’ll give you that.”

I snarled, unsheathing my dagger in one swift motion. “Get out of my way, witch.”

The smirk faded, and his jaw tightened as impatience flashed across his face.

“Why are you being so stubborn?’he asked, like I was the one being unreasonable. Then, as if it mattered, “By the way, my name is Fabian. Not witch.”

I sneered. “I don’t care.”

He blinked, like that actually surprised him.

I tightened my grip on the blade, my pulse a war drum in my ears. “I already told you I have no interest in this bond,” I spat. “So leave me alone.”

Fabian’s jaw ticked, his fingers twitching at his sides like he was holding something back. Then as his lips parted, a howl split the night.

I went still.

The Nightclaw warriors were coming. Lyra had gone back for help.

Fabian stiffened, his head snapping up, those ember eyes shining as if he could already sense them coming.

“She shouldn’t have done that,” he muttered. “There’s no fixing anything now, Luna.”

I stepped back, forcing my body to stay steady even as adrenaline spiked through my veins.

“I told you to leave,” I snarled. “Leave me alone.”

Fabian’s gaze turned back to me, and for the first time, I saw hesitation in his eyes. It was the first time he just might be considering leaving me be.

Then—Another sound. Not the warriors. Not yet. This was someone else who was closer, faster.

Someone that sent a different kind of heat through my veins. A familiar tingle. A presence that made the mate bond’s pull feel like a dull ache in comparison. And before I could even turn, he was there.

Damien stepped out from the trees like he had been carved from the night itself, his gray eyes burning, with a rigid stance. He was too calm, and that was how I knew he was furious.

Fabian stiffened.

Damien’s gaze shifted from me—from the way Fabian stood too close, from the way my blade was still drawn—to Fabian himself.

And the air snapped taut. An uncomfortable knot that felt like a physical thing, pressing in from all sides. It was a war that was older than us all, rooted in our souls. I couldn’t understand why we hated each other looking at them now. We just did.

“Step. Away. From her,” Damien growled.

Fabian didn’t move. The expression on his face had smoothed over, but his fingers twitched slightly, like he was weighing his options.

“You’re late, wolf,” Fabian said with that bored attitude he seemingly had with every other wolf, except me. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming.” His response made me think he knew Damien, or perhaps really had the gift of premonition.

Shaking his head, Damien exhaled sharply. “You witches always talk too much.”

Fabian smirked. “And you wolves always think you own everything you touch.”

It wasn’t just an insult, just an old witch’s accusation. To them, we were too territorial, possessive and greedy.

But Damien chose to take it differently. His lips curled, the barest hint of teeth showing, his gray eyes locking onto me like Fabian had just crossed an invisible line.

If Fabian didn’t already suspect that there was history between us, what came next would make him think otherwise.

“I don’t own her,” Damien said, “but I sure as hell know she doesn’t belong to you.”

Fabian’s smirk faded, replaced by a cold, calculating stare. And that was when Damien took a predatory step forward.

Fabian’s fingers twitched. With a flick of his wrist, the wind turned sharp, leaves swirling in a spiralling gust, the air thickening with magic. His silver eyes burned like embers, glowing from within. Damien continued to move towards him, his muscles rippled under his skin as he shifted—partially—into his wolf form. Claws unsheathing. Pupils dilating. Every line of his body primed to tear through whatever stood in his way.

With the mate’s bond pulling one way and my instinct pulling the other, I stepped away from the fray.

Fabian struck first. Magic rippled from his hands again, curling toward Damien like smoke laced with poison.

Damien moved just as fast, and I never doubted his speed. He was the fastest wolf in our pack. He dodged sideways, Fabian’s blast searing through the air, hitting a tree behind him with a loud, cracking explosion. The bark splintered, and the trunk rotted instantly.

I gasped, my breath catching as the ancient wood collapsed inward, decayed in seconds.

Fabian had aimed to kill. This was going to be a bloodbath.

But Damien was already closing the distance. Fabian was trying to maintain space, trying to keep him at a distance where magic could tip the scales. Because in close-quarters combat, Damien would tear him apart.

Even though Fabian was built like a warrior, and fought like he had been trained alongside wolves, he wouldn’t last in a hand-to-hand fight with Damien.

And Fabian knew it.

Damien moved like a shadow slicing through the night, no wasted motion, no hesitation—just raw, terrifying efficiency. A predator through and through.

I caught myself smirking.

It wasn’t just his strength, or his speed, or the way he fought like every move had already been decided three steps ahead. It was the way he made it look easy.

I tore my gaze from Damien to Fabian, watching as he hesitated. He had no reason to hold back. I had seen what he was capable of, the way he wielded his magic like an extension of himself. He didn’t need spells to hold his own against Damien.

So why was he hesitating now? My frown deepened.

Damien struck first. His fist collided with Fabian’s jaw. A sickening crack, and Fabian staggered, his head snapping to the side, but he recovered too quickly, his fingers barely brushing the ground before he sent a wave of force crashing toward Damien.

Damien braced—took the hit full-on—but he didn’t fall.

He skidded back a few feet, digging his boots into the damp earth, muscles coiling, bracing, adjusting. Then he grinned. A sharp, predatory grin, and lunged again. His speed was inhuman fighting in his human form.

And that was the terrifying part. They were both holding back!

A Wolf Meant for War.

I remembered the Zeta saying that about him once. And now, I understood. He thrived on a good fight, didn’t he?

Fabian didn’t get the luxury of another spell, which I was so sure he was doing on purpose. Why? He was a curious case, this Fabian. What was he waiting for? Was he just testing Damien? Measuring his strength? Seeing how much he could take?

Damien was on him, relentless, his strength vicious, overwhelming. A Gamma was the chief defender, the unbreakable shield of the pack, trained to tear through enemies without mercy.

And Fabian was realizing it the hard way.

Damien drove his knee into Fabian’s ribs, knocking the breath out of him. Fabian cursed, twisting, a dagger appearing in his grip out of thin air.

He swiped—fast, precise—but Damien caught his wrist, twisting until the dagger clattered to the ground.

A brutal elbow to Fabian’s ribs, and then Damien slammed him back against a tree, pinning him there by the throat. I moved, two steps forward, like I was going to stop him. And I didn’t understand why.

“You’re not as special as you think you are,” Damien murmured, his grip tightening. “You bleed just like everyone else.”

Fabian’s lips parted, and at first, I thought he was going to snap back, but his lips curled into a smirk instead.

Damien barely had time to react before a pulse of magic erupted from Fabian’s body, slamming outward like a shockwave.

The force sent Damien flying, his body crashing into the ground with a brutal thud. Fabian was on him instantly. A rain of shiny golden swords manifested above Damien, suspended in mid-air, shimmering with deadly intent.

Then they fell.

Damien rolled, dodging as fast as he could, the sheer force of impact kicking up a thick mist of dust around them.

My breath hitched, and my fingers curled into fists. I stepped forward, heart pounding.

“Damien.” I barely recognized my own voice as I searched for him in the dust.

They broke apart, panting, circling each other like caged animals. Both bleeding and bruised. Neither willing to give ground.

Fabian lifted a hand, magic gathering again, his eyes glowing with power. Damien shifted his stance, prepared to take the hit and return it tenfold.

And I knew this wouldn’t stop. Not unless someone ended it first, or one of them was badly hurt—or dead. That was always how it went. Wolf against witch. A war older than all of us.

I didn’t think. I moved.

The moment Fabian unleashed the spell, I threw myself between them.

The magic hit me full-force, but instead of burning, breaking, destroying, it fizzled out like smoke against my skin.

Fabian staggered, his eyes wide with shock, his body swaying slightly, like that spell had cost him something. And I stood there, heart pounding, staring at my hands.

Was this what it meant to be Baudelaire-born and immune or was this the river’s doing? Had it unlocked something in me, or was I just immune to my mate’s magic?

Damien’s snarl cut through the quiet, his rage barely restrained as he shoved forward, ready to rip Fabian apart.

I whirled, my hands slamming against his chest, forcing him back, away, away.

“Enough!” I snapped.

Damien stilled.

Fabian froze.

The trees swayed, the night hummed, and I stood between them, the invisible line drawn. No one, witch or wolf was dying out here tonight.

My breath came hard, my hands still shaking against Damien’s chest. Slowly, I turned, locking eyes with Fabian first.

“Leave,” I said in a tone that he knew not to question me.

Fabian’s throat bobbed, his lips parting slightly, like he wanted to say something. Then, after a long, searing moment, he stepped back. Then another. And finally, he was gone, vanishing into the darkness.

I let out a shaky breath. Only to realize Damien was still looking at me.

Still too close, tense, and furious. He was still breathing hard, his chest rising and falling against my palms, his entire body taut with restrained fury.

I let out a shaky breath, suddenly hyper aware of the way my fingers were still pressed against him, the warmth of his skin burning through his torn sleeve.

Slowly, too slowly, I pulled away. But Damien didn’t move, speak, or even blink.

He just stared at me, his gray eyes dark, and his jaw clenched so tight I thought he might break something.

“You’re injured,” he said, voice rough, the words barely audible over the sound of the wind ghosting through the trees.

I blinked, momentarily thrown. “What?”

His gaze flickered downward, and I followed it.

There—across my forearm—was a thin gash, shallow but fresh, a relic from the fight I hadn’t even noticed. When did that happen?

Damien’s expression hardened again, like he was barely keeping himself from losing it.

“It’s nothing,” I muttered, shaking my head. “Just a scratch.”

He inhaled deeply, his hands curling into fists at his sides before exhaling slowly.

“You shouldn’t have been out here,” he growled.

I huffed, crossing my arms. “I know.”

His jaw flexed. “You ran,” he said, the accusation very pointed and in my face. “From me.”

I stiffened, my chest tightening as I forced myself to swallow, before tilting my chin up. “I had things to do.”

“Like meeting your mate?” he asked, voice deceptively calm, but I heard the venom and the barely concealed fury.

Something deep in my chest twisted painfully. I clenched my fists. “Are you accusing me of meeting up with a witch, Gamma?”

His nostrils flared, his hands flexing like he was seconds away from grabbing me, from shaking some kind of answer out of me.

And gods help me, I didn’t know what I would have said if he had. A second howl ripped through the night, closer this time.

The warriors were close.

Damien exhaled sharply, raking a hand through his already dishevelled hair.

“We need to go,” he said quietly.

I didn’t argue. And as I followed Damien back toward the Nightclaw walls, one thought burned through my mind”

I had to stop running.

I hesitated, my pulse stuttering, and before I could second-guess myself, I spoke.

“I didn’t come out here to meet him, and I didn’t mean to run from you.”

Damien stilled and turned to face me.

I swallowed hard, my hands curling into fists at my sides. “I didn’t know how to be around you with you being so” unDamien back in the carriage.” My voice shook, but I didn’t stop. “I mean, why didn’t you ever tell me how you felt about me?”

His expression didn’t change, but something in his posture did. His shoulders went rigid, his breathing shallowed, his fingers twitching at his sides like he wanted to reach for me?

His voice, when it came, was rough and so tired. “It doesn’t matter now, Luna. You found your mate.”

I took a shaky breath, and then, before he could turn away and walk away from this again, I stepped closer.

“I want nothing to do with Fabian,” I said.

His breath hitched as I reached for him, just slightly, just enough.

“I only want you, Damien.”

His jaw clenched, and his hands curled into fists.

And for the first time since I’d known him, Damien looked like he had no idea what to do.