The red mark didn't fade.
Sera wore Lucien's kisses on her skin, but beneath them, something darker pulsed like a second heartbeat—one not born from the bond, but from whatever ancient thing lived inside her blood.
She didn't tell him. Not yet.
She couldn't.
Because Lucien had enough to deal with—rogue packs stirring in the city, rumors that Veylor wasn't alone, and whispers that an old bloodline had resurfaced.
And at night… his touch still made her tremble.
They made love like they were trying to outpace fate. Hard, fast, deep—like their souls were fighting to stay tethered. But when he fell asleep, peaceful and bare beside her, she would lie awake… and feel the other bond throbbing at the edge of her mind.
Calling her.
The Message
It came in the form of a dream.
A crimson forest, trees bleeding light. Veylor stood in the center, watching her with silver eyes, waiting.
"You're not safe with him, Sera. He'll break before you do."
She gasped awake, sweat dripping down her spine.
And then she saw it—on the window ledge.
A small black feather.
She wasn't dreaming anymore.
He was near.
The Forbidden Meeting
Sera didn't tell Lucien where she was going. She just… left.
It was wrong.
Dangerous.
But something in her blood guided her steps—through alleyways and city shadows until she reached an abandoned cathedral, its stained glass long shattered, moonlight pooling through broken beams.
Veylor was there.
Leaning against the altar like sin incarnate. Black coat. Wet boots. That unholy grin.
"You came."
She folded her arms. "What do you want from me?"
He didn't move.
"I want you to survive."
He circled her, slow and predatory. "Lucien's power was given. Yours was inherited. When you finally awaken, the packs will turn. Not because you're dangerous—but because you're different. The bond won't save you."
"And you will?"
"No," he said softly. "But I'll teach you how to save yourself."
She should've walked away. She knew it.
But when he reached out and touched her cheek, his fingers cool and sure, her body didn't flinch.
It responded.
Back in the Alpha's Arms
When she returned to Lucien's penthouse, dawn was just bleeding into the sky.
Lucien was awake. Shirtless. Brooding by the window, a glass of whiskey in his hand.
His eyes snapped to her.
"Where were you?"
Sera froze.
She'd prepared a lie.
But one look into his glowing gold eyes and the words died on her tongue.
"I needed space," she whispered.
He stalked toward her. His scent all power and fury.
"Space from me?"
"No… from myself."
Lucien pulled her into his arms so fast she gasped.
"If you run from me again, Sera, I'll hunt you. You don't leave me."
Then he kissed her—punishing and desperate—and tore the shirt from her body.
He laid her on the nearest surface and took her like a storm, hands everywhere, voice rough in her ear.
"You belong to me. No one else. Not even the shadows in your blood."
She came undone in his arms, moaning his name, clawing his back.
But deep inside… the red mark still burned.
And it wasn't fading.