Darius POV
The scent of parchment still lingered on my fingers, yet it was her absence that haunted me most. The weight of her rejection settled in my chest like a cold, unmoving stone.
She had returned the phone and the laptop I'd ordered for her—simple things, meant to give her freedom, connection, something of her own. She'd rejected them without hesitation.
It was not the gesture that stung. It was what it meant.
She wanted no ties to me.
The coldness in her eyes the last time I saw her… it hadn't been rage, nor the confused longing that once shadowed her gaze. It was distance. A wall she'd placed between us with meticulous care. She no longer treated me like her mate. She treated me like a king.
And that was worse.
The road to Sorenth Vale was longer than I remembered—lined with trees that whispered secrets in the wind. Toran didn't question why we left so abruptly, though he shot me a concerned look when I didn't speak for the first hour.
He was loyal like that. Silent when needed. Present when I couldn't be.
We arrived at dusk, the sun bleeding gold and rust across the mountains. The village below was quiet, its stone cottages dusted in moss and magic. This wasn't a place most Lycans came to. The seer here was ancient and unpredictable. But I had no one else to turn to.
She met me at the edge of the clearing—barefoot, eyes milky with age yet sharp enough to pierce the soul.
"You've come," she said, voice like gravel. "Finally."
"I need answers," I told her.
"No," she replied. "You need permission."
I stiffened. "For what?"
"To stop running."
She turned, her robes trailing across the forest floor as she led me deeper into the woods, where the air thickened with power and time seemed to fold around us. Her hut was small, filled with dried herbs, jars of strange fluids, bones carved with runes.
She didn't ask what I was there for. She didn't need to.
"You want to know what she is."
"Yes," I said. "And why I…"
"Why you keep hurting her?"
I flinched.
She tilted her head. "You call her mate. But you don't treat her like one."
"I never asked for this bond."
"You didn't have to. It was made for you."
I paced the small room, the walls pressing in, my claws aching beneath my skin.
"She's not what she seems," I said. "There's something in her. Something old. Her wolf—it's been silent for years. Now it's stirring."
The seer studied me for a long moment, then walked to a shelf and pulled down a crystal—small, cracked, humming with low light.
"She is not just an omega," she said. "She never was."
I looked at the crystal, watched it glow faintly in her hand.
"She is something new born of something ancient. A hybrid, yes, but more than that. Her blood remembers magic your kind tried to bury."
I stilled. "Magic?"
"She carries it in her bones. In her wolf. In the quiet that followed her for so long."
The words rang through me. A strange understanding began to dawn.
"She is… my cure."
"Yes," the seer said simply. "The madness, the emptiness, the fury inside you—you were never meant to carry it alone."
"And if she rejects me?"
"She can't," she said. "Not truly. But she can choose not to forgive you."
I clenched my jaw.
"She already has," I muttered. "She walked out of my chamber without looking back."
The seer smiled faintly, but it wasn't unkind. "Then you must decide—will you win her back, or lose yourself completely?"
I returned to the palace just after nightfall the next day.
The air felt different now, charged, as though the world knew what I had learned. I moved through the halls with a heaviness in my limbs, longing to see her, to tell her everything.
But when I sent for her, she came… different.
Gone was the timid girl I'd met that first night. She entered with her head high, her eyes cool and unreadable. Mira followed a few steps behind her, watching silently. Avery must've spoken to her. I'd have to ask later what was said.
But for now… it was just us.
"Sit," I said quietly.
"I'll stand."
Her tone wasn't rude, but distant. Detached.
"Rian—"
"You called for me?" she asked, cutting me off. "What do you need, Your Majesty?"
The title struck harder than I expected. She hadn't called me that in weeks. Not since our bond had begun to… shift. Not since I'd touched her like a man, not a king.
"I wanted to speak to you."
She nodded once. "Then speak."
My jaw tightened. I wasn't used to this. To being the one grasping for words, for meaning.
"I went to see a seer," I began. "In Sorenth Vale."
She blinked, but otherwise gave no reaction.
"She told me something. About you."
She didn't reply.
"She said… you're my cure. That the madness in me what I've carried all my life it was never meant to be mine alone."
Still, nothing.
"Rian, I need you to understand. I didn't know. I didn't see you."
Her gaze finally met mine, steady and quiet. "And now?"
"I see you."
She studied me, eyes narrowing slightly. "And if I choose not to be seen?"
My chest ached. "You're my mate."
She stepped closer then, just enough for me to feel the cold edge of her presence.
"You called me to your bed," she said softly. "Then told me I could go. Like a thing. Like a body you didn't need anymore."
Guilt struck deep.
"I—"
"No," she interrupted. "You don't get to explain it away. I am not a mistress. I am not your toy. If you want to reject me, do it. If not… act like it."
She turned to leave.
My voice caught in my throat. "Rian—"
But she was already gone.
The chamber felt emptier than before. Her scent still lingered, wildflowers and rain. It clung to the sheets. To my skin.
Toran appeared at the doorway a moment later.
"You want me to stop her?"
I shook my head. "No."
"Then what?"
I looked down at the floor, fists clenched.
"Find out everything about the Sigma Merrior. Quietly."
Toran tilted his head. "That's a myth."
"She touched a book about it," I said. "It triggered something in her. Her wolf… it spoke."
Toran stilled.
"So it's true," he said quietly.
"Yes."
He nodded once. "I'll look into it."
When I was finally alone again, I sat on the edge of my bed, staring at the door she had just walked out of.
For the first time in years, I was afraid. Not of war. Not of prophecy. But of losing the only person who had ever seen the part of me no one else dared to touch.
And worse—of deserving it.
That night, as darkness fell, I stood by the high window in my chamber, staring into the stars. Her words echoed in my mind like a curse and a prayer.
If you want to reject me, do it. If not… act like it.
For the first time,I realized: power meant nothing if the one thing you wanted most walked away willingly.
And this time, I had no idea if she'd ever come back.