Lyra's breathing turned shallow, her chest rising and falling in uneven bursts. Her skin felt too hot, her thoughts disjointed, clouded by a need she didn't fully understand—until the ache in her core gave her the answer.
Her heat.
Damn it.
A curse whispered past her lips as her trembling fingers reached for the buttons of her shirt, desperation clawing at her chest.
"Lyra, don't."
Casian's voice cut through the haze, sharp and commanding, dragging her halfway back to reality. But it was already too late—her pheromones had filled the room, wrapping around him like a snare. He inhaled involuntarily, and the scent of her—ripe, sweet, dangerously inviting—sank into his bloodstream like poison.
He moved fast, reaching the bed in a few strides, his hand catching her wrist. He meant to stop her, to help her, to protect her from the very thing she didn't yet understand. But her wide, pleading eyes locked onto his, and the thin wall of control he had so carefully maintained cracked.
"Casian," she whispered, voice shaking with need, "please… touch me."
His grip faltered.
In that heartbeat of hesitation, Lyra surged forward, her instincts leading the charge. She pushed him onto the bed with surprising force, her body straddling his as her lips crashed against his—clumsy, desperate, untrained.
A growl erupted from deep in his chest.
My mate.
Hunter's voice rang through his mind, raw and full of conviction. The wolf within him, always watching, always waiting, stirred violently under the heat of her touch.
Casian's hands clenched at his sides. For years, he had locked Hunter away, choosing discipline over desire, reason over instinct. But now—her soft, feverish body pressing against his, her scent flooding his senses—he was losing.
"Lyra, stop. We can't… not like this," he choked out, his voice strained with effort.
But she didn't hear him. She was too far gone, lost to the burning pulse of her heat. Her body trembled, every cell demanding relief, her lips brushing against his jaw with aching urgency.
Casian's resolve buckled.
And Hunter pushed harder.
'She needs us. Let me take over.'
"Shut up, Hunter," Casian snapped aloud, the words ragged, torn from his throat. His wolf snarled, furious.
'You swore you'd never love again, and yet here she is—the one the Moon Goddess chose for us. Are you really going to throw that away?'
"I didn't ask for this," Casian ground out. "And neither did she. She deserves better than to be taken like this—by a man still haunted by another woman's ghost."
'She is not Lilith. She is Lyra. And she is ours. Open your damn eyes.'
Casian bit down on a curse, squeezing his eyes shut, blocking out the voice, the scent, the feel of her body trembling against his.
He wouldn't take advantage of her—not like this. Not when she wasn't in control of herself. No matter how much his wolf screamed, no matter how hard his instincts pulled, Casian refused to be the monster everyone expected him to be.
With a rough breath, he grabbed her wrists and flipped her gently off him. She whimpered, trying to reach for him again, but he didn't let her.
Enough.
He hoisted her into his arms, her feverish body squirming weakly in protest, and carried her toward the bathing room without a word.
The tub was already filled. Without hesitation, Casian lowered her into the icy water.
The moment her skin touched the cold, she gasped, a sharp cry escaping her lips as she jolted upright, the sudden chill breaking through the fog of her heat.
Before she could fight him, Casian slid into the tub beside her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and pulling her into his chest.
"I'm sorry," he murmured, voice hoarse but tender. "This is the only way to help you."
His words wrapped around her like a protective blanket, and slowly, the urgency in her body began to fade. The trembling eased, her shallow breaths evened out, and her restless limbs stilled as the cold began to dull the overwhelming burn inside her.
They remained like that for what felt like hours—submerged in silence, in water, in restraint.
When her body finally relaxed against his, her eyes fluttered closed in exhaustion.
Casian held her for a moment longer before lifting her carefully from the tub. He dried her off with slow, reverent movements, dressed her in one of his oversized shirts, and laid her gently on the bed. She didn't stir.
Once she was settled, he stepped out quietly—and found Darius waiting just outside her chamber door.
Casian didn't hesitate. "Inform Penny about Lyra's condition. She's going to need the herbal tea to suppress her heat."
Darius, sensing the tension in his Alpha, nodded but said nothing.
Casian turned without another word, his steps clipped as he returned to his own quarters.
The door had barely shut behind him before his control shattered.
He ripped his shirt over his head, cursing under his breath as he stumbled into the bathing room and turned the cold water on full blast.
The freezing stream hit him like a whip, shocking his system, but it wasn't enough.
Her scent still clung to him—wild, sweet, addictive.
His palms slammed against the tile wall, jaw clenched tight, muscles tensed and trembling. The ache in his body refused to fade. The memory of her warmth, her lips, her whispered plea—please, touch me—echoed inside his head like a cruel refrain.
He had resisted.
Barely.
And yet… the pull hadn't lessened.
Staring at his reflection in the fogged mirror, Casian's jaw twitched. His eyes, stormy with emotion, locked onto his own image—and for the first time in a long time, fear settled deep in his chest.
Not fear of her.
Fear of himself.
Of what he might become the next time he wasn't strong enough to stop it.
Of what would happen the next time her heat returned.
"I need to keep her away from me," he muttered, his voice a fractured whisper.
But even as he said it, his gut twisted.
Because deep down… he wasn't sure he could.