The sky was bare, devoid of any visible moon.
King Evren clenched his fist, continuing his walk.
“Sir, the car is around the corner.” His Beta Kiran confirmed but Evren wasn’t listening.
His Lycan was far away, pacing restlessly, whispering a word he couldn’t understand.
His instincts were alert, his heart pounding in an unusual rhythm.
He told himself it was the New Moon, told himself it was the danger of the night.
The wind blew, carrying the strong stench of rotten meat.
Rogues.
He hated being in these parts of the world.
He’d only come here on an anonymous visit to investigate a small pack.
“Here it is, sir,” Kiran said, opening the backseat door for him.
Evren paused, considering it.
He glanced at the sleek leather seat, then back at the moonless sky.
Something tugged at him.
‘Find her!’
Evren clenched his jaw, fighting his Lycan.
‘Go!’
Evren complied.
He turned around with a growl, heading in the opposite direction.
Kiran stood confused for a moment, then followed after his King.
Evren didn’t know where he was going, or what he was going to do.
He was led simply by instincts, his body knowing exactly where to go.
He caught a scent.
Wildflower and something sweet, something he couldn’t identify.
But he recognized that scent.
He followed it.
As he got closer, the stench of rotten meat and blood filled his nostrils, accompanied by fear.
His Lycan roared, pure primal bloodlust shaking his entire being.
His steps quickened, and finally, he turned a corner only to find a battle.
Mira.
She stood there, her back pressed against a wall, her chin raised, a defiant look on her face.
His eyes trailed down, to her soaked clothes, stained red—with blood.
He saw red.
He charged at them.
They instantly cowered.
Evren didn’t notice…
or he didn’t care.
He went straight for the rogues, fighting with stealth and power.
His pure Lycan aura seeped into the night, pressing down on every wolf within sight.
The rogues cowered in fear, baring their necks to him.
But Evren didn’t register it.
His Lycan had taken over, driven solely by one mission.
To end everyone that had hurt her.
He grabbed one by the neck, lifting him high in the sky.
“Who the fuck are you?” His voice was thick, not entirely his. New chapters come out on g.com first.
It was tinged with the ancient beast within him.
“Please…” the rogue choked, his naked legs flailing desperately in the air.
“Please.”
“You dare lay a finger on her.”
“I’m so—”
Evren squeezed—hard.
Till the rogue’s head severed with a wet crack.
He turned to the rest of them still cowering in fear.
He didn’t need to shift, didn’t need to roar.
He moved through them like a silent blade, striking at hearts, stomachs, anywhere he could reach till all that was left was a pile of unmoving bodies.
Only then did he turn to the bleeding Luna.
She was on the ground now, her hand clutching at her chest, scratching.
Her breathing came out in desperate gasps, her eyes watery.
“Hey.” He grabbed her head, forcing her to face him.
Her eyes were wide with fear and…
panic.
She was having a panic attack.
“Fuck,” he cursed, picking her up.
He took her back to the car.
“Contact a healer!” He barked at Kiran.
“We can’t reach anyone from here sir.
We’ll have to drive into town.” Kiran explained.
Fuck.
“Hey!
Hey!” He held her head again, looking into her eyes.
“Breathe.”
She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks.
“It’s okay,” he whispered.
“Shhh”
She stopped struggling, her body slowly weakening.
“It’s okay.”
Her shoulders loosened, the tension draining from them as her eyes fell shut.
She went limp in his arms.
Evren sighed.
He made to move away but she stopped him, her hand fisting his shirt tightly.
He glanced down at her but her eyes were already on him.
Deep green boring into his soul, igniting a feeling he hadn’t experienced in years.
Her eyes were dark, hungry for power.
His power.
His heart skipped.
Her hand trailed up his chest slowly, stirring his Lycan.
Her scent, her touch, her eyes.
His stomach tightened, every nerve in his body reacting to her, craving her in a way he had never craved another.
Her legs wrapped around him, locking him in place.
She pressed her chest against his.
‘Take her!’ His Lycan snarled.
He wanted to.
He badly wanted to.
His eyes turned a deep red, his canines elongating.
He shut his eyes tightly, fighting the beast within him.
It was the new moon.
She had no idea what she was doing.
Her actions were driven solely by primal instinct.
“Take me.” She whispered.
His eyes snapped open.
He grabbed both her wrists, locking them above her head.
Her eyes locked on him, filled with pure hunger.
“Please,” she moaned, writhing in his hold.
He hesitated—for just a second.
Her wolf craved power, weakened by blood loss and the new moon.
The only way to help was—
He offered her his wrist.
Kiran—who stood behind them—gasped.
The king was offering her his wrist.
Sharing blood was an intimate act, one shared between mates in the Lycan world.
The King had never taken a mate, never offered his blood.
Not even to his closest confidants.
Yet here he was, offering his wrist to this Luna.
Mira bit him, sucking his blood slowly, sensually, until her wolf awoken again.
Evren watched her, his eyes dark, his heart tightening.
She took in a deep, steady breath.
And when she finally caught his gaze again, her heart stopped.
His dark eyes pulled her in, his aura pressing down on her, tugging at something deep within her.
She was completely mesmerized by the Lycan King.
Her heart pounded loudly, her body weak but tingling.
Her wolf stirred, reacting to him.
She found herself wanting to lean in, to touch him.
But underneath that desperate need was a deep, unsettling feeling that left her breathless.
She took in deep breaths, until her breath finally steadied, but the air between them remained taut, charged with something neither of them could name.
Evren loosened his grip, though every instinct in him rebelled at the distance.
His blood still pulsed in her veins—warm, potent, unmistakable.
Mira felt it then.
Not a mark she could see, but one she could feel—settling deep within her chest, binding itself to her wolf.
Her gaze lifted to his, unease flickering beneath the lingering hunger.
Whatever had passed between them tonight was not over.
It had only begun.