Evander burst into the shop like a storm—
breathless, wide-eyed, his chest rising and falling with panic he didn't bother to hide.
"Lysandra—what happened?! I felt your bond spike—run through me—like you were in pain—"
His voice cracked.
The Heir stepped subtly into his line of sight, shadow curling at his feet.
"She lost control," he said coolly.
"But she has it back now."
Evander ignored him completely.
His hands cupped Lysandra's face instantly.
"Are you okay?"
His thumb wiped a bead of sweat from her brow.
"What did you feel? Was it fear? Anger? Did something trigger your wolf? What—"
"Evander," Lysandra breathed,
"slow down."
He forced himself to inhale, then exhaled shakily.
But his hands didn't leave her cheeks.
She could feel his pulse beneath his fingertips—
fast, frantic, terrified.
He cared too much.
Her wolf softened at his touch.
Home.
Warm.
Anchor.
But—
Behind her, the Heir's aura surged, reacting sharply to Evander touching her while she was still unstable.
Silver and black magic clashed in the air.
The shop lights flickered.
Lysandra grabbed Evander's wrists gently and stepped back.
"Both of you—stop."
They froze.
Because she asked.
Evander swallowed hard.
"Lysandra… what happened?"
Lysandra hesitated.
She wasn't ashamed of losing control—
but she hated that her wolf almost responded to fear.
To a child's fear.
She met Evander's eyes.
"My wolf woke. Fast.
Faster than I expected."
Evander stepped closer again.
"Did I do something? Did someone in town scare you? Was it—"
"No," she whispered.
"It wasn't any of that."
She turned slightly—
eyes flicking toward the Heir.
Evander followed her gaze.
"Oh."
The Heir didn't flinch.
"She needed help controlling her wolf," he said calmly.
"My presence did that."
Evander stiffened.
"You mean your aura forced her down."
The Heir smirked.
"Exactly."
Lysandra groaned.
Here we go again.
Evander took a step forward.
"Don't talk like you own any part of her."
"I never claimed ownership," the Heir replied.
"I claimed responsibility."
Evander's jaw clenched.
"Not your job."
The Heir's shadows curled like warning tendrils.
"You think you can control a rising Moonblood wolf?
Your bond comforts her heart.
Mine commands her power."
Lysandra stepped between them—
again.
Always.
"Enough."
Her voice wasn't loud.
But it snapped through the room like a blade of moonlight.
Both men stopped.
Lysandra's wolf lifted its head—
pleased.
They listen to us.
Both.
Good.
Evander looked at her, worry still clouding his eyes.
"Lys…
did he hurt you?"
Lysandra shook her head.
"No.
He stopped me from shifting."
Evander flinched.
She hated seeing that.
Hated that her truth hurt him.
She touched his cheek gently.
"It doesn't mean you couldn't have helped too," she whispered.
Evander nodded slowly—
but the insecurity was there,
sharp and barely hidden.
The Heir turned away, speaking in a flat tone:
"She needs to learn when to trust instinct…
and when to fight it."
Lysandra hugged her arms around herself.
"Can you both stop arguing long enough for me to breathe?"
Evander exhaled.
"Sorry."
The Heir dipped his head slightly.
"I'll try."
She blinked.
"Try?"
"That's the best you get tonight."
Lysandra actually laughed.
Her wolf eased back a little.
Evander walked toward her again.
"I don't like leaving you here with him," he admitted.
"You didn't leave me," Lysandra said softly.
"You came back."
That softened him instantly.
His voice grew gentler:
"Do you want me to stay now?"
Before Lysandra could answer—
The Heir stepped closer too.
"And do you want me to stay?"
She froze.
Two energies pressed toward her—
warm sun and cold moon.
Her wolf tensed.
Her heart raced.
Her magic pulsed.
She turned slightly toward Evander.
"I want you… close."
Her voice shook.
"But if you stay inside, my wolf might overreact. The bond between us is too warm. Too emotional."
Evander's eyes softened with painful understanding.
"So… outside?"
Lysandra nodded.
"Just for tonight."
He brushed her hair back gently.
"I'll be right at the door.
Knock once—
I come running."
Her chest warmed again.
Then she turned to the Heir.
"And you…"
He waited.
"Yes?"
His voice was low.
"…you stay," she whispered.
Evander winced—
but he nodded.
Respecting her choice.
The Heir's eyes darkened, pupils expanding.
"Of course," he murmured.
Evander pulled her into a hug.
A tight, shaky one.
"Don't scare me again," he whispered into her hair.
She hugged him back.
"I'll try."
He pressed a soft kiss to her temple—
longer than usual—
as if memorizing her.
Then he pulled away reluctantly,
walked to the door,
and stepped outside.
The door clicked shut.
Silence.
And Lysandra turned slowly to face the Shadow Heir—
who watched her like she was the moon descending into his arms.
Shadow and Moon Alone
The room felt different with just the two of them.
Still.
Tense.
Electric.
The Heir took one step toward her.
The lanterns dimmed.
Her wolf's ears perked up.
Lysandra's breath caught.
"Shadow…"
"Don't," he murmured.
"I have no intention of harming your control."
He walked closer.
"Your wolf reacted to fear today.
That is not acceptable."
His words weren't harsh.
But they struck something deep.
"I know," she whispered.
"I didn't mean to—"
He touched her chin lightly—
barely.
A ghost of a touch.
"But you didn't lose yourself," he said quietly.
"And that matters."
Her eyes softened.
"Would you…
would you help me practice control?"
He paused.
Then bowed his head slightly.
"Always."
Lysandra inhaled deeply.
"What do I do first?"
He stepped close enough for their auras to merge again.
Her wolf stirred—
but stayed down.
His voice was soft.
"Come.
Sit."
She blinked.
"Sit?"
He gestured to the floor.
"Control begins low.
Grounded."
Lysandra lowered herself onto the wooden floor.
He sat directly across from her.
Their knees almost touching.
Shadows curled lazily around him.
Moonlight curled around her.
Opposites.
Perfectly aligned.
He held out his hand.
"Give me your pulse."
Lysandra hesitated.
Then placed her wrist in his palm.
Her heartbeat thudded against his cool skin.
He inhaled once—
and her pulse steadied.
He whispered:
"Now listen."
"To what?"
His fingers tightened slightly.
"To your power.
To the wolf.
To what it wants."
Lysandra closed her eyes.
Breathing slow.
Deep.
Her wolf stirred underneath—
restless
but controlled
by the echo of two bonds.
She whispered:
"It wants…
strength."
He nodded, eyes glowing faintly.
"And affection."
She swallowed hard.
"And what else?"
His voice lowered to a whisper.
"It wants what it has never had—
belonging."
Her breath caught.
Her wolf hummed.
Then he leaned in—
not touching—
but letting his breath brush her cheek.
"And what do you want, Lysandra?"
Her heart stuttered.
Her wolf purred.
And she whispered the truth she had not said aloud—
"I want…
balance."
His eyes softened.
Then sharpened.
"And I will give it to you."
Her pulse rang in the air between them.
The moonflowers glowed brighter.
The shop held its breath.
And the Shadow Heir whispered:
"Your second test begins soon.
But for tonight…"
He brushed her wrist with his thumb.
"…learn how to want without losing control."
Her wolf trembled.
Lysandra whispered back:
"Stay with me."
His laugh was quiet—
dangerous,
soft,
and real.
"Always."
The moon outside shifted higher.
And the night
deepened.