Lucien POV
Sleep refused to come.
Hours passed, yet I lay awake, the sheets twisted around me, my mind consumed by the scent of her blood faint but unforgettable. It clung to my senses, ghosting over my skin like a memory that wouldn't fade.
I'd killed for less.
But tonight, I couldn't kill the hunger.
When I finally drifted into the fragile edge of sleep, she was there not as she'd been in the clinic, but somewhere else entirely. Barefoot. Dressed in white. Standing in a forest bathed in moonlight so silver it looked like glass.
She turned to me, eyes wild, lips parted, and whispered my name.
Not Lucien.
Alpha.
The sound hit me like a blow.
My body moved on instinct, closing the distance between us. Her pulse beat visibly at the base of her throat. When I touched her, heat exploded between us primal, electric, ancient. Her back arched, a small sound escaping her throat as my fingers traced the mark that wasn't yet there but would be.
It was a dream. And yet it felt more real than anything I'd ever known.
Her scent surrounded me, tangled with mine until I could no longer tell where one ended and the other began.
Then, from the darkness, another hand reached out and touched her waist.
Lysander.
The forest flickered, shadows twisting. My brother's golden eyes burned in the moonlight, reflecting my own rage and need.
He stood behind her, his breath grazing her neck as his gaze met mine.
"She belongs to both," he said softly. "You know the law of our blood."
A growl ripped from my chest, deep and guttural. "No."
"She'll die if we fight it," he warned.
"Then I'll die first."
The dream shattered moonlight, forest, her body all swallowed by darkness.
I woke drenched in sweat, my chest rising and falling like I'd just survived a war. The sheets were soaked, my claws had shredded the pillow, and my heart was pounding with something between hunger and terror.
For centuries, I'd believed I was stronger than fate. Tonight, I realized fate had teeth.
And it was already sinking into me.
The Next Morning
I stood in front of the mirror, the early dawn painting thin bars of gold across the floor. My reflection looked foreign eyes darker, veins faintly glowing beneath my skin. The bond was awakening.
There was no escaping it now.
The curse wasn't just legend. It was law, written into our bloodline by the first Alphas twin sons of the Moon Goddess who fought for the same woman and tore the kingdom apart in their greed. To punish them, she bound every generation of twins to share one mate, one heart, one fate.
If one twin claimed her, the other would suffer the same mark.
If one died, the other would follow.
If both rejected her… she'd burn alive.
No one had ever survived it.
And now, Ariana was the one chosen for us.
I buttoned my shirt and left my room, my boots echoing through the silent hall. The manor felt colder than usual. Lysander was already awake, sprawled on the velvet couch, a cigarette burning between his fingers.
"You didn't sleep either," he said without looking up.
"I saw her," I admitted.
He smirked faintly. "So did I."
My jaw tightened. "Stay out of my head."
He exhaled a thin stream of smoke. "You think the bond cares about privacy?"
I stopped a few feet away. "If you touch her"
He rose slowly, unhurried, dangerous. "You'll what, brother? Kill me? We share the same blood, the same curse. You hurt me, you hurt yourself. You should know that by now."
"I mean it, Lysander."
He smiled, the same smile that used to charm kings and slaughter enemies in the same breath. "Then let's see who she runs to first."
He brushed past me, the faint scent of smoke and cedar trailing behind.
I clenched my fists until blood beaded from my palms. Rage was easy I'd lived my whole life with it. But this was something worse. This was need. Possession. Fear.
She had no idea what she'd walked into.
And yet, part of me wanted her to find out.
Because some sick, buried part of me wanted her to choose.
I left the manor before the sun rose fully, taking the path down to the city. I didn't bother masking my scent; no one would dare stop me. My car waited by the gate, sleek and black like a predator waiting to pounce.
The moment I turned the ignition, my phone buzzed.
It was Lysander.
A single message.
Clinic, 7 a.m.
She's there.
I didn't hesitate.
By the time I reached the small hospital, the streets were barely waking. I stepped inside, the fluorescent lights flickering overhead, and the scent of her hit me like a blade to the chest. Clean. Warm. Real.
She stood behind the counter, her hair tied up, a faint smudge of exhaustion beneath her eyes. She looked up when she sensed me or maybe she felt me before she saw me.
Her pupils dilated. Just slightly.
Recognition.
Fear.
And something else.
I moved closer, silent, my presence filling the small space between us.
"Morning, nurse," I said softly.
Her jaw tightened. "You shouldn't be here."
"Neither should you," I replied.
Her brow furrowed. "Excuse me?"
I smiled faintly. "In my dreams, you were naked."
She froze, her face flushing with fury and shock, and I leaned in just enough for my breath to brush her ear.
"It wasn't a fantasy," I whispered. "It was a warning."
Her heartbeat stumbled, her breath catching.
I straightened slowly, giving her space not out of mercy, but out of control. Because if I didn't, I would break every rule I'd ever made.
And the worst part?
I wasn't sure I'd regret it.