The Hollow had grown quiet in the hours after the rogues' attack. Aria sat cross-legged on the cold stone, hands pressed against the pulse of her mark. Her new senses hummed with awareness—she could feel the subtle tremor of the cavern beneath her, the faint heartbeat of water running along the stream, and most disturbingly, the rhythm of Lucian's blood, steady and intoxicating, entwined with her own.
He emerged from the shadows, silent as a panther. His eyes glowed gold in the dim blue light, and his gaze traced every curve of her body, every tremor of muscle beneath her skin. She felt the pull immediately, a magnetic tug that made her pulse race and her breath catch in her throat.
"You're restless," he observed, voice low, almost a growl. "The mark is awake tonight."
"I… I feel it," she whispered. "It's like fire in my veins. And… and you."
Lucian's lips quirked, a predator's smile. "It wants me. And I want you. More than I've wanted anything in years."
Aria's heartbeat accelerated. She had sensed desire before—but not like this, not the feral hunger that seeped from him, brushing against her consciousness and igniting a heat that made her knees weak.
He stepped closer, and instinctively she rose to meet him, claws flexing but unready to strike. Every inch of their proximity vibrated with tension. The Hollow around them seemed to pulse in anticipation.
"Don't fight it," he murmured. "Not tonight."
Her gaze met his. The pull between them was undeniable. The mark on her neck pulsed brighter, as if responding to the unspoken command. She shivered, torn between fear and something darker—curiosity, need, power.
Lucian brushed a hand down her arm, over the mark. She gasped as silver light pulsed beneath his fingers. "Do you feel that?" he whispered. "It's your power. Your bond with me."
"Yes…" Her voice was trembling, unsteady. "It's… consuming me."
"Good," he murmured. "You must let it. Only by surrendering will you control it. Only by yielding will you survive the Blood Moon."
The words were a warning and a promise, and they sent a shiver racing through her spine. The room around them faded. Only Lucian remained, a golden-eyed Alpha, raw and dangerous, and she, trembling, half-human, half-wolf, teetering on the edge of something she couldn't name.
He stepped closer, chest brushing hers. The warmth of his body, the rhythm of his pulse under her fingertips, made her ache. Every nerve ending screamed for him. The pull between them—the mark, the bond, the hollowed magic of the cavern—was irresistible.
And then he kissed her.
It started slow, testing, almost gentle—but beneath it lay a raw, predatory hunger that made her knees buckle. Her hands found his shoulders, gripping, digging in instinctively. The mark pulsed again, silver light flashing in her veins, igniting her entire body.
Lucian groaned, a sound deep in his chest, as though it were the echo of a beast as old as time. His hands tangled in her hair, drawing her closer, teeth grazing her neck. Pain and pleasure mingled, a sharp thrill that made her claws extend instinctively.
She didn't pull away. Couldn't. The fire of the mark coursing through her veins demanded surrender, and she gave it. Every heartbeat, every pulse of blood, tied her closer to him, until the world narrowed to claws, teeth, and heat.
Then he stopped, just short of crossing the line she couldn't yet name. His forehead pressed to hers, and his breath brushed against her ear. "Enough," he whispered, voice ragged. "You're not ready for full control. Not yet."
Her chest heaved, body trembling, claws still extended. She looked up at him, golden eyes meeting his, and realized he had brought her to the edge—not just of desire, but of herself. The Hollow had not only tested her body but her very spirit.
"You're stronger than I thought," he murmured, brushing a finger down her jaw. "You feel the hunger. You feel the bond. And yet… you're still you."
Aria swallowed hard. "Am I?" she whispered. "Or am I… becoming something else?"
"You're both," he said, voice soft but firm. "And soon, the Blood Moon will decide which side dominates. Which side survives."
Her fingers traced the mark. It pulsed in response to his words, silver light flaring faintly along the curve. Her new instincts whispered, urging her to accept the power, to embrace the beast inside her. But a part of her still clung to the human she had been—fragile, uncertain, afraid.
Lucian placed a hand over hers. "Tonight, you learn to feed." His gaze darkened, warning and promise in one. "Tonight, you embrace the wolf. Tonight, you will feel what it truly means to be marked."
Aria's breath caught. "Feed?"
"On me," he said simply. "Only this way will you control your hunger without losing yourself."
Her pulse thundered, terror and longing intertwined. She stared at him, at the Alpha whose blood now ran through her veins, whose heartbeat she could feel in tandem with her own. The pull of the mark, of the Hollow, of the Blood Moon rising beyond the cavern walls, surged through her, demanding obedience, surrender, and trust.
She nodded, the decision unspoken but irrevocable.
Lucian leaned closer again, tilting his neck slightly, exposing the pulse of his vein. The scent of blood, metallic and warm, filled her senses. Her claws flexed automatically, senses sharpened, instincts screaming, heart pounding in tandem with his.
Aria pressed her lips to his skin. One taste, one lick, one drop of his blood—and the Hollow responded. The crystals on the walls flared, casting long shadows that danced like spirits. Her power surged. The bond flared between them, silver light racing through her veins, a tether of hunger, desire, and unbreakable connection.
When she finally pulled back, gasping, Lucian's eyes were golden, pupils wide with awe. "You're ready," he said. "The Blood Moon's call will come soon, and when it does, you will be tested beyond anything you've faced. Together or alone, it will decide what we are… what you are."
Aria swallowed, tasting blood and power, trembling, alive. The mark pulsed under her skin. Her heart beat in tandem with his. And somewhere deep inside, a whisper came—faint but certain, promising both love and destruction.
The Blood Moon would rise in three nights. And Black Hollow would never be the same.