Lyka
I stormed out of the room, slamming the door so hard the frame rattled. Cool night air slapped my face, sharp as claws. My hand flew to my stomach without thinking. The baby stirred, a flutter only I could feel.
Not today. Not him. Not Isa.
For years men had looked past me like I was part of the wallpaper, even Parker—until the night in the forest when our wolves had touched and the bond flared like lightning. That moment still burned behind my eyes. It was supposed to mean something. It was supposed to make me untouchable.
My boots hammered the path as I headed for the gate. Parker was there, leaning against the railing, the same stance from my dream. Only now Isa stood beside him, eyes gleaming with the same secretive smirk she'd worn hours ago.
"Lyka—" he started.
"Stay away from her," I snapped, voice slicing through the cold.
Isa's smirk widened but I ignored her. The bond under my skin was a live wire, dragging me toward him even as rage held me still.
He lifted his hands, palms open. "I—"
"You tried?" My voice shook as I stepped closer, fingers twitching with the urge to shift. "You were tangled with my sister while I carry your child!"
His face went pale. Guilt flickered, but the pull between us hummed, relentless.
"I can't explain everything right now," he said, low, the Alpha mask slipping.
The scent of pine, pack, and him filled my lungs, turning my stomach. Isa shifted closer to him, a predator testing my ground. I held my stare on Parker. "Don't even think about it," I warned.
He didn't back away. His hand twitched at his side, like he was fighting himself. I could feel the weight of the pack pressing on him—rules, duty—but the thread between us pulsed hotter, stronger.
I leaned in, close enough for him to feel it. "You're mine. And the child… we're not something you get to gamble with."
He swallowed, eyes flicking between me and Isa. The moment stretched, taut as a bowstring. The pull in my chest was the same one from my dreams, but now it was real, raw, bleeding.
"Choose," I said quietly, deadly calm. "Choose me. Or walk away. But don't forget what's real."
"Choose," I repeated, my voice low, steady, the word vibrating with every heartbeat. My hands were at my sides, but my wolf stirred beneath my skin, curling like fire, sensing him, claiming him. The child inside me shifted, tiny but insistent, and I felt it—our connection. It was alive, urgent, undeniable.
Parker's jaw tightened. His eyes flicked to Iza, then back to me, and I saw the pull, the battle raging across his expression. Every instinct screamed at him to step away from her, to step toward me. The pack's howls in the distance seemed to echo his conflict, warning, judging, reminding him of the rules that bound him as Alpha—or part of one.
I stepped forward, slow, deliberate, letting the bond hum through me. He flinched slightly, the invisible thread between us tightening, vibrating like a taut wire. My pulse synced with the child's tiny kicks, and I could feel his heartbeat answering me from where he stood.
Iza's smirk wavered. She tried to mask it, leaning closer to Parker, her fingers brushing his arm like a dare. But I didn't move away. I stayed, chest lifted, eyes locked on him. My wolf snarled softly under the surface, a warning and a promise.
"You feel it, don't you?" I whispered, letting the word hang in the night air. "The bond… it's not something you can ignore. Not me. Not our child. Not fate itself."
He swallowed hard. His gaze flickered downward, guilt and desire colliding across his face. I saw his shoulders tense, hands twitching as though he wanted to step closer but feared the consequences—the pack, the rules, the weight of what I was carrying.
I took another step forward. Closer. The air between us pulsed, almost electric. Every instinct of mine—the wolf, the mother, the woman marked by destiny—was pulling him. Pulling him home. And I could feel him, even if he refused to admit it, resisting but drawn inescapably.
Iza's laugh cut sharply, brittle this time. "Still clinging to her, huh?" she said, but it lacked its usual venom. Her fingers fell from his arm as she sensed the strength of the bond, the raw inevitability of it. Even she couldn't deny it—not entirely.
Parker's chest rose and fell quickly. He looked at me, his eyes dark, conflicted, and finally—finally—he took a step. Toward me. Not back. Not away.
I felt it immediately. The thread between us tightened, warm, alive. My wolf yipped softly in agreement. My heart, the child's heartbeat, the bond itself—they all pulsed as one. He was mine.
"You… you can't walk away from this," I said, voice trembling only slightly, letting the truth of the moment hang. "You don't get to choose her over me. Over us."
He nodded, slow, careful, almost reverent. "I… I won't," he murmured, voice rough, sincere. "You're my mate, Lyka. You… and the child… we're real. Nothing can change that."
The tension didn't vanish instantly—far from it—but the first small victory was mine. Iza stepped back, lips pressed into a thin line, her eyes calculating, but she didn't move to interfere. For now, the bond held. The pull was undeniable. Fate had made its choice, and he was listening.
I exhaled, chest tight, but a spark of relief and triumph lit inside me. I could feel the future unfolding, fragile and dangerous, but mine to claim. My wolf curled around me, protective and satisfied, the child shifting in affirmation.
And Parker… Parker finally stepped close enough that I could feel the heat of him, smell him, know that despite the chaos, despite betrayal and temptation, we belonged together.
Parker closed the last step between us. The scent of him—pine, smoke, wolf—hit me like a punch. My heart stuttered, my wolf bristled, and the baby shifted again, as if sensing the moment.
"I'm done pretending," he said roughly, his voice low but clear. "I tried to stay away. I tried to follow the rules. But this—" he reached out, fingers trembling as they hovered just above my arm "—this is real. You're mine, Lyka. And I'm yours."
I didn't move away. My wolf rose inside me, tail high, claiming. His fingers brushed my skin, light as a whisper, but it was enough—the bond snapped taut and alive, the pull between us no longer a murmur but a roar.
Behind him, Iza shifted. I caught the flicker of her eyes, the way her smirk cracked just for a second. She stepped back, almost instinctively, as if the energy around us was too much to stand in.
"You don't get to toy with her, Parker," Iza said finally, her voice low. "She's carrying your—"
He turned his head just slightly, his voice steel. "Enough." He didn't even look at her. His gaze stayed on me, dark and unwavering. "I'm done letting anyone come between us."
The words sent a shiver through me. My wolf pressed closer under my skin, a deep, satisfied growl rumbling low in my chest. I stepped into him, close enough for our bodies to brush, and his hand finally settled at my waist. Warm. Solid. Claiming without words.
"You're mine," I whispered, but it wasn't a question. "And you'll protect what's ours."
His jaw flexed. He nodded once. "Always. From now on, no more hiding. No more letting anyone—pack or otherwise—decide what's between us. You, me, the baby… we're the future. And anyone who tries to touch that will answer to me."
Iza's eyes flickered. For a moment I thought she might lunge, might spit out something cruel, but she didn't. She backed away another step, shoulders stiff, lips pressed tight. She knew she'd lost ground.
I pressed my palm flat against Parker's chest, feeling the heat of his heartbeat under my hand. My wolf settled, the child gave a soft kick, and for the first time in days, a flicker of calm filled me.
"This isn't over," I murmured quietly, though not for him—for myself. "But at least now we're on the same side."
He tilted his head down, so close that his forehead almost touched mine. "It's only the beginning," he said softly. "But we'll fight for it. For us."
I closed my eyes, breathing him in. The pack howled again in the distance, but it sounded different now—less like a warning, more like a challenge. My wolf answered inside me, a low sound of defiance and promise.
Parker's thumb brushed my jaw, a small, rough gesture that grounded me. "Come with me," he murmured. "We'll go somewhere quiet. Just us. No eyes. No interruptions. We need to talk—really talk—before this explodes."
I opened my eyes and nodded once. The anger still burned, but it wasn't cold anymore. It was fuel. And I wasn't alone in it.
He slipped his hand down, fingers brushing mine until they laced together. The bond pulsed warm and certain. I could feel it like a heartbeat—ours, not just mine.
I stepped forward, leaving Iza behind, Parker at my side. The night air wrapped around us as we moved, and for the first time, I wasn't running. I was walking toward something. Toward us.