Aveline’s POV
I couldn’t sleep that night. No matter how tightly I pulled the sheets around me, the memory of what I had witnessed in the woods clawed at my mind. The sound of bones snapping, the sheer violence of the fight, and then that moment—those glowing eyes meeting mine, and the shiver that rolled down my spine like fire and frost combined.
My mate.
The word made me sick.
I sat at the edge of my bed, my fingers curled into the sheets. How can the Moon Goddess be so cruel? Of all the wolves, of all the men in the world… why him? A killer. A lycan who had no mercy, who tore down another of his own kind before my eyes.
I didn’t even see his human face. I had no name, no voice to attach to him. Just his wolf—massive, dark, and terrifyingly strong. A beast that made my heart stutter with fear and something I hated to acknowledge: recognition.
I pressed my palm over my chest as if I could crush that bond before it rooted deeper. No. I wouldn’t accept it. I didn’t need a mate, not after everything. Especially not one drenched in blood.
By morning, Thorndike was in uproar. News of the lycan’s death spread fast. I heard it from the halls before I even stepped out of my room. The pack house buzzed with whispers, with warriors rushing in and out, with my mother’s sharp commands ringing down the corridors.
When I entered the dining hall, my parents were already waiting. Luna Grecia’s eyes were stern but softened when she saw me. Father’s jaw was set tight, the way it always was when he was preparing for conflict.
“Aveline,” my mother said as I sat down, though I had no appetite. “You look pale. Did you not sleep?”
“I couldn’t,” I admitted. “Because… I saw it happen.”
Both of them froze.
Father’s voice was immediate, commanding. “You saw the fight?”
I nodded, throat dry. “I went for a walk near the woods last night. I didn’t mean to—” I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms. “One of the lycans you took in… he was killed. I saw it. I saw everything.”
My mother leaned forward. “Tell us. Every detail.”
So I did. I told them about the fight, about the sheer dominance of the killer wolf, about how easily he overpowered the other. My voice trembled when I described the moment he turned his glowing eyes on me. I didn’t say what else I felt, not the burning pull of the mate bond that nearly dropped me to my knees. That was mine to carry—and mine to bury.
When I finished, my father’s hand slammed against the table, rattling the plates. “Unacceptable. Thorndike offers sanctuary, not a battlefield. The lycans will answer for this.”
“They’ll claim it’s a private matter between their kind,” my mother said sharply. “But not when it happens on our lands. Not when it endangers one of our own.”
I swallowed. “You’re… you’re calling the lycan leaders?”
“Yes,” Father said without hesitation. “An emergency meeting is already being arranged. If one of their princes has lost control, we’ll know soon enough.”
I lowered my gaze, blood rushing in my ears. A prince.
The rumors I’d overheard days ago surfaced—two princes, the younger whispered to be the evil one. Could it be…?
I shook my head violently. No. I wouldn’t even think it.
“I don’t need a man in my life,” I muttered, more to myself than to them.
My mother’s eyes softened. She reached over and squeezed my hand. “You don’t, child. You’re strong enough on your own.”
I clung to those words like a lifeline.
That evening, the entire pack house was on edge. Guards patrolled every entrance, and the meeting hall was prepared for the lycans’ arrival. The scent of tension hung heavy in the air, burnt wood from the torches, the iron tang of sharpened blades, the restless energy of wolves preparing for confrontation.
I stood near the back of the hall, my parents at the front. Warriors flanked the walls. My heart pounded harder with each passing second.
Then the doors opened.
The lycans entered, one by one. They were taller, broader, carrying that aura of raw power that made even seasoned warriors stiffen. Their presence filled the room like a stormcloud, suffocating and impossible to ignore.
And then it happened.
The moment they stepped inside, something in the air shifted. My breath caught in my throat, and my wolf inside me—restless, aching—rose with a low growl I couldn’t contain. My body trembled, my heart pounding so loud I thought the entire hall could hear it.
He was here.
I lifted my gaze, and there he was among them.
The second lycan prince.
The bond slammed into me with full force, stronger than before, undeniable. My chest tightened as his scent hit me—wild forest, storm winds, danger wrapped in something inexplicably intoxicating.
Our eyes met.
Cold, piercing eyes that gave nothing away. He looked at me as though I were just another face in the crowd, but I felt it. I knew he felt it too. The bond shimmered between us, an invisible chain locking us together.
My lips parted, but no words came.
It’s him. My mate. The killer.
The room around us blurred, voices muffled as if I were underwater. All I could focus on was him.
And yet, he didn’t falter. He didn’t flinch. His expression was carved from ice, his posture proud and unyielding. If he felt the bond, he didn’t show it.
But his eyes didn’t leave mine. Not for a second.
I clenched my fists at my sides, forcing myself to breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Of all wolves, of all men—the Moon Goddess tied me to a murderer, to a prince who had spilled blood on our lands.
I wanted to scream. I wanted to deny it.
Instead, I stood frozen, locked in his gaze, as my parents began the meeting with heavy accusations and demands.
And all I could think was: I don’t need a mate. Not him. Not ever.
