Lucien
Karina...
Her name never fails to stir something deep inside me, though I've always told myself it's hatred that does the trick.
She's always in trouble. Always getting punished. It's like the universe has it out for her, and somehow, she keeps walking straight into its jaws. There's this strange quality about her—this curse she carries—that makes chaos follow her wherever she goes.
I don't know why, but the urgency in the maid's voice sends all of us moving without question. Usually, it's the head maid who carries out punishments—and she's strict, but never cruel. Never reckless.
So why does this feel different?
"Where is she?" I hear myself demand, my steps quickening before I even realize it.
"Outside. Behind the training grounds," the maid pants, struggling to speak between gasps for breath as she hurries ahead. "It was Miss Selene... it was her order. But the thing is…"
She suddenly stops, mid-sentence and mid-stride, and we all nearly collide into each other at the abrupt halt.
"What is it?!" Killian snaps, his eyes blazing with barely restrained rage. But the intensity in his voice only makes the maid shrink back, her lips trembling.
Ronan exhales sharply, voice low but tight. "What did Selene do?"
"The head maid… she did exactly what she was told!" the girl sobs, breaking into fresh tears. "But Miss Selene said she wasn't doing it right. So—so she took the whip and—"
"Fuck!" I growl, and for once, my wolf mirrors my frustration without hesitation.
I don't even know why I'm this angry. I've ordered Karina's punishments before—hell, more than once. But this... This feels different. When someone else lays a hand on her, it hits wrong. It coils inside me like poison.
Goddess, I'm a fucking mess.
The four of us move quickly toward the training grounds, and I swear I can feel our wolves pacing just beneath the surface of our skin, irritated and restless. It's like a storm on the edge of breaking.
Maybe it's a kind of sick possessiveness; some twisted instinct buried too deep to name. She deserves the pain. We all hate Karina. The Goddess knows how much.
But no one else is allowed to hate her more than we do.And no one—no one—gets to hurt her more than we do.
We don't even have to reach the training field itself to feel it.
It slams into us all at once—the tension, the thick pressure in the air, the smell...
My eyes fly wide as realization crashes into me like a freight train.
Something's wrong.
Horribly wrong.
We round the corner by the storage shed, the narrow gap separating us from the training yard, and the second we see it, the breath leaves my lungs.
It hits like a punch straight to the chest.
"What the..."
Selene is crouched over Karina's body, a blood-soaked whip dangling from her hand. Her expression is unreadable, but the sight is burned into my brain.
Karina isn't moving.
I don't know how many times she's been struck, but the air reeks of blood. Thick. Metallic. Suffocating.
And I know—whatever number of lashes Selene delivered, it was already too many before the maid even came to get us.
Karina lies crumpled on the ground, her body nothing but raw meat and torn cloth. Blood paints her skin, seeps into her hair, pools under her palms. She isn't screaming anymore. She's far past that.
Selene lifts the whip again. Her movements are graceful, almost elegant, as if this is art to her. Maybe it is.
The crowd watches, hushed. Omegas, servants, gammas, betas. It's like a fucking show to them. But no one dares breathe. And still, Karina doesn't move.
Another lash lands with a sickening crack. Her back arches, but no sound escapes her. Just a shudder, soft and hollow like a dying thing.
"She's wolfless," Ronan mutters beside me, but his voice lacks bite. There's something else beneath it—tension, heat. A question he doesn't want answered.
Killian stands motionless, carved from ice, his arms crossed. He doesn't look away, but his jaw ticks with every strike. The coldest of us all. The cruelest when pushed.
I say nothing. I can't.
Because I can smell it too.
Not just the blood.
Something else.
It hits me like lightning—so sudden I nearly stagger. The scent shifts, warps, thickens. Sweet, molten, ancient. A fevered bloom laced with raw desire and something older, deeper. Mine.
My chest clenches, my wolf howls, clawing his way out.
Karina jerks on the ground like a wire's been pulled tight inside her. Her back arches again—not from pain this time. Her thighs press together. Her breath comes in short, strangled pants.
She's going into heat.
I don't want to believe it.
But I do.
Killian goes rigid. "What the hell—"
Ronan snarls low, deep, guttural. "That scent—"
It's unmistakable.
Mate heat.
The air fractures. My world tilts. Every lie we've believed collapses under the weight of this scent.
Karina is our mate.
She's my mate.
"No," Killian growls, his voice hoarse, as if denial might burn the scent away. "This has to be a trick. It has to be."
Ronan is already moving, stalking forward like a storm with no control. His claws flash. His eyes glow gold. He's not thinking anymore—his wolf is.
I move with him, though I tell myself I'm just assessing the damage. I kneel beside her. My fingers hover above her skin, but I don't touch her.
I can't.
If I do, I won't stop.
Karina whimpers, her head tilting toward the sound of my breathing. Her eyes flutter open, dazed and unfocused. And then—her lips part.
"Lucien?" she whispers.
I freeze.
She says my name like it means something. Like I am something. It's so sweet that my throat closes.
Behind me, Killian breathes like he's been punched in the ribs. "This... can't be happening."
Ronan is on his knees now, too. One hand on her waist, his breathing ragged, his expression wild.
Selene drops the whip.
"No," she whispers, stepping back. "No, that's not possible. She's wolfless. She—she can't be—"
But she is.
The bond roars to life inside me. I feel it—threading through my ribs, wrapping around my spine, digging hooks into my very soul. It's her. She's it.
Killian doesn't move, but I can feel his resistance crumbling. The tension bleeding into disbelief. His wolf fights it. So does his pride.
Ronan doesn't fight at all.
Karina trembles, curling into herself, her body too hot, too small, too broken to contain what's inside her.
"Get her out of here," Killian says sharply, his voice cracking on the command.
I don't wait. I scoop her up, her body limp and burning against mine. Her head drops against my chest, her fingers curling in my shirt like instinct.
Her scent buries me. Moonlight and crushed violets, smoke and want. It fills every corner of me I didn't know was empty.
Ronan follows, teeth bared, eyes locked on her like a beast guarding treasure. Killian walks last, silent and seething, the storm gathering behind his eyes.
Selene stands frozen, her face pale, her whip lying abandoned at her feet.
Karina is no longer just the omega we hated.
She's the one thing we were never supposed to have.
And now... we'll never be able to let her go.