Lior –
The Alpha's blood called to him.
Lior watched through the chaos as the mighty wolf lord faltered—just for an instant, golden eyes losing their predatory focus. Where others saw an unbreakable Alpha dominating the battlefield, Lior's vampire-trained instincts caught the telltale signs: the slight stumble, the momentary lapse in guard, the infinitesimal hesitation that separated life from death.
His fangs throbbed with anticipation. Every lesson from his sire echoed in his mind: Strike when they show weakness. Hesitation means death. End the wolf before he destroys us all.
Lior moved like liquid shadow, his preternatural speed carrying him through the melee undetected. The battlefield reeked of spilled blood—both wolf and vampire—but underneath the carnage lay something else. Something that made his dead heart stutter against his ribs.
The Alpha's scent.
Wild forests after rain. Leather and steel. Ancient power that spoke to parts of Lior he'd forgotten existed. His vampire nature screamed warnings—wolf blood was dangerous, addictive, potentially fatal to his kind. But beneath those warnings stirred something else, something that pulled him forward like gravity.
He launched himself through the air, fangs bared, aiming for the junction of neck and shoulder where the great arteries pulsed. The Alpha turned at the last second—too late. Lior's body slammed into the wolf's massive frame, claws finding purchase on leather and flesh.
His fangs pierced skin with surgical precision.
The blood hit his tongue like liquid lightning.
Lior's entire world exploded. This wasn't the cold sustenance he'd trained on, or the bitter fear-tainted blood of human prey. This was molten gold and ancient starlight, power older than civilization flowing down his throat. The Alpha's life force crashed through him in waves—wild hunts under full moons, pack bonds forged in battle, the raw elemental fury of a creature born to rule.
Every vampire instinct screamed danger. Wolf blood could poison him, drive him mad, burn through his veins like acid. But instead of pain, Lior felt... awakening.
The Alpha's massive body trembled against him, not from weakness but from something else entirely. His deep growl rumbled through Lior's chest, vibrating against his ribcage. The wolf's pulse hammered a rhythm that Lior's dead heart tried to match—impossible, yet undeniable.
What is happening to me?
He should drain him. Should tear through the Alpha's throat and claim victory for his clan. Instead, Lior found himself drinking slowly, savoring each drop, his body pressed against the wolf's warmth in a way that felt less like feeding and more like... communion.
The Alpha's breathing grew labored, but his hands—massive, calloused from countless battles—didn't fight. They settled on Lior's shoulders with surprising gentleness, fingers threading through his dark hair.
This is wrong. This is dangerous. This is—
Perfect.
The thought came unbidden, terrifying in its certainty. Lior jerked his head back, fangs withdrawing from punctured flesh, the Alpha's blood still burning sweet on his lips. Golden eyes met his crimson ones, and in that moment the battlefield ceased to exist.
The Alpha's mouth moved, voice broken and raw from blood loss, but his words cut through the chaos with devastating clarity:
"You're... my mate."
The bottom dropped out of Lior's world.
Around them, the battle raged—wolves and vampires locked in their eternal war of survival. But in the space between their bodies, something far more dangerous than violence sparked to life. Something that would make enemies of their own kind and force them to choose between loyalty and a bond that defied every law of nature.
Lior stared into those golden eyes, the Alpha's blood still coating his tongue, and felt his carefully constructed world shatter like glass.
Because somewhere deep in his chest, where his heart should have been silent and still, something answered back.
Something that whispered: Yes.