"I will not let you," she said firmly. He didn’t respond, merely stepping toward her. Serena reacted immediately, sidestepping and snatching the mop from the corner. She held it in front of her like a makeshift spear. "Keep your distance."
"Or you’ll bite me again?" he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice. Serena nodded in response, and he shook his head, exasperated. The source of thɪs content is N()velFire.net
"Why did you lie?" she demanded.
"Lie?" he echoed, folding his arms.
"Lie about me staying. You said at the meeting that I would remain in the pack." Serena glanced around, her voice laced with frustration. "Annamarie had already set me up with this place."
"She doesn’t own this place. I do," Darius replied flatly. "And she’s just a scout. Yes, my word is final, but I can change my mind."
"I don’t like that," she muttered under her breath. Darius shot her a sharp look, and she realized he had heard her.
"In another life," she said quickly, shifting the mop slightly, "I would have agreed to a mutual rejection. The old books say it’s less painful that way."
Or maybe in another life, she thought bitterly, she would have been eager to run into his arms. Serena shook her to rid herself of those thoughts.
Darius’s gaze lingered on her, urging her silently to continue, to explain why she wouldn’t comply with the rejection.
"I cannot lose my wolf," she confessed.
"That, I understand. But the Moonseeker can help us make it less painful," he offered.
Serena waved the mop in front of him defensively. She couldn’t rely on the oracle. She didn’t even want to set foot in one of Lunara’s temples; she feared the goddess might strike her down.
A second mate was not unheard of but was extremely rare among werewolves. Scholars debated the statistics, but the prevailing belief was that only one in six wolves ever found their fated mate, a soul said to be made for another, as Lunara never made mistakes.
The odds of finding a second mate were even slimmer, and Serena found herself in a twisted predicament. It was a tragic tale: her first mate had been murdered, and now her second didn’t want her, not that she wanted him either.
"I... I recently found her," Serena lied, the words tumbling out in a rush. "And I was able to shift."
Darius didn’t move, his hazel eyes fixed on her. She swallowed hard but she pressed on.
"If we go through with this," she added, her voice breaking slightly, "she will be lost to me forever."
Darius regarded her with a curious expression. Serena couldn’t blame him; her story was nothing short of absurd. A rogue wolf, born in the wilderness, finding her wolf late in life, and then saving the scoutmaster of Ironshade, it was hard to believe.
"It’s a gift from the goddess," she added quickly. "It was comforting seeing her in a dream." She had to survive, even if it meant leaning into the narrative that an Elder had deemed her blessed by Lunara.
"Very well," Darius said, "Nana... Elder Evelyn says you’re blessed by Lunara, and I don’t have anything to refute that."
Serena breathed a sigh of relief, her shoulders relaxing as she glanced down at her feet. She silently murmured thanks to her guardian spirits for whatever stroke of fortune had turned the conversation in her favour.
She caught movement in her peripheral vision as Darius took several steps toward her. Serena raised the mop again, but he grabbed it effortlessly, pulling it from her grasp with a single tug.
Serena retreated, but he showed no signs of stopping. Serena gasped softly when her back hit the chest of drawers, the cold wood pressing into her spine.
Darius’s hazel eyes seemed darker now, his expression unreadable, but his closeness made him seem larger, more imposing. Serena’s breath hitched, thoughts about the half-truths plagued her thoughts.
Serena hadn’t heard much about him from her pack, Ironshade matters were tightly controlled unless they were positive. What little she knew was shrouded in mystery. They said his father had died from an unknown illness, passing the rule to his son.
Serena recalled overhearing gossiping nurses mention how Darius had inherited his father’s cruelty. While his father’s cruelty was fiery and unpredictable, Darius’s was cold and calculated.
Her stomach dropped as he closed the remaining distance between them. "You are forbidden to leave this area without my strict permission. Do you understand?"
"Yes," she muttered, looking away. Intense eye contact always made her uncomfortable.
He grabbed her chin, tilting her face toward him. His scent was overwhelming, clouding her senses. It made her stomach flip. She hated how her body reacted to him, the unsettling mix of fear and something deeper.
He held her gaze for a few more seconds, his thumb gently tracing along her jawline. Serena didn’t pull away; she couldn’t summon the willpower to turn away from him.
Then, as if suddenly realizing the closeness between them, Darius stiffened. His hand dropped as though burned, and he took a step back. He stepped back, running a hand over his face, taking a moment to collect himself.
"There will be some documents delivered to you soon. Make sure to read them," Darius said, walking toward the door.
He turned toward the door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. For a moment, he hesitated, letting out a weary sigh. It was becoming a familiar habit of his, Serena noticed.
"Don’t leave this place without my permission," he repeated, the warning clear.
With that, he stepped out, the door clicking shut behind him.
Serena let out the breath she hadn’t realized she was holding and moved to the window, watching his retreating figure, half-hoping he’d turn back.
As if responding to her thoughts, he glanced back, and she quickly ducked out of sight.
Serena watched the flames flicker and dance in the hearth, their warm glow casting shadows across the room. Annamarie chatted beside her, recounting the events of her day. Serena offered a few half-hearted replies, her mind drifting far from the conversation.
Her nails dug into her arm as a single thought consumed her.