The fever came in waves.
First heat, then cold. Then the kind of fire that licked up her spine and bloomed between her thighs, hot and unbearable, pulsing like a second heartbeat.
Lyra twisted in soaked sheets, her skin slick with sweat, breath shallow and quick. She didn't know where she was — somewhere dark, somewhere warm. The air smelled like cedar, smoke and something darker: wolf.
And him.
Karl.
His scent was in everything — on the bed, in her lungs, under her skin.
She clawed at the blankets, groaning as another wave of heat crashed over her. Her body was no longer hers. It moved without her consent. It wanted things. Craved things. And it terrified her.
The door creaked open.
"Don't touch me," she warned hoarsely, barely able to lift her head. "I swear to god, I'll kill you."
Kael stepped into the low light like a shadow given shape. Shirtless, sweat-damp, hair tousled, eyes glowing faintly in the dark. She hated how the sight of him made her ache.
"You won't," he said simply, voice deep, quiet. "You can't. Not right now."
"I will when this fever breaks."
He came closer, gaze sweeping over her body. She was tangled in the sheets, her shirts plastered to her skin, her thighs pressed tight to fight the need clawing at her. But she knew he could smell it.
Wolves always could.
"I told you," he said, his voice low and rough. "The bite has consequences."
"I didn't ask for it!"
"You think I meant to mark you?" His voice was sharper now, that edge of frustration cutting through. "I was in the middle of a blood hunt. Your scent crossed into my path. I thought you were one of them."
"One of who?"
He paused. "Rogue wolves. Blood mad. They've been slipping past the borders."
"And you just attack anything that moves?"
He knelt beside the bed. "I attack what threatens my pack."
"And now I'm your problem?" She spat.
"No," he murmured. "Now you're mine."
That one word — mine — ripped straight through her.
She hated how her body reacted to it. Hated that his voice made her thighs clench and her pulse stutter. The fever blurred everything — fear, fury and that dark, forbidden heat that made her crave his hands on her.
"You need to cool down," he said.
"If you put a hand on me —"
"I won't touch you unless you beg for it." His eyes flickered to hers. "And you will."
"You arrogant, feral —"
He stood and walked towards a basin in the corner, pouring cold water into a cloth. She watched him with narrowed eyes, every movement of his body too confident, too graceful. Like a predator completely at ease in its own skin.
He returned and pressed the cloth to her burning forehead. She jerked away.
"Stop acting like you care."
"I don't," he said. "But if you die, I'll be stuck with the bond."
Lyra blinked. "The what?"
He met her gaze. "The bite wasn't just a mark. It's a bond between Alpha and mate."
A horrible silence fell.
Mate.
No. No, it couldn't be. That wasn't real. She wasn't a mate — she wasn't even one of them.
"I'm not a wolf," she whispered.
"Not fully," Kael agreed. "But something in your blood made the moon choose you. It's in you now. Fighting it won't make it go away.
She wanted to scream. To tear the bond out of her body with her bare hands. But all she could do was lie there, burning, panting, shaking with rage and unwanted desire.
Kael leaned down, close enough that she felt his breath on her mouth. His hand stayed on her forehead, rough and hot, but steady.
"I know what it feels like," he said softly. "The fever. The hunger. It doesn't stop until you surrender."
"I'd rather die."
He smiled faintly. "Then you've never truly wanted anything."
His finger trailed down to her jaw, not touching — almost — and her body arched, desperate and ashamed.
"I'll leave you to it," hecsaid, standing. "Let the heat take you. Fight it. Or don't."
He turned for the door.
Lyra's voice cracked behind him. "Why didn't you finish it?"
He paused. "Finish what?"
"You bit me. Claimed me. Why didn't you fuck me and be done with it?"
Kael didn't turn. "Because you weren't ready."
And then he left, leaving her in the dark with fire.