Theron's POV
The second-chance mate bond hits me like a bolt of lightning straight to the chest.
After two hundred years of emptiness, of being alone, of thinking I'd never feel this again—there she is.
My mate.
Isla Morven trembles in my arms, her violet eyes wide with fear and pain. She's so small. So fragile. The rejection wound from that fool Reid is still tearing her apart from the inside.
But underneath the pain, I feel her power. Raw. Ancient. Moonborn.
I've been searching for her since she was born. Fifteen years of hunting. Of following rumors. Of eliminating anyone who got too close to the truth.
And now she's finally mine.
"You killed my parents," she whispers, her voice broken.
The accusation should bother me. Should make me explain. But I've waited too long for this moment to waste it on explanations she won't believe anyway.
"Did I?" I say instead, keeping my voice cold. "Are you sure about that?"
Her eyes flash with anger through her tears. Good. Anger is better than fear. Anger will keep her alive in my world.
"Everyone knows what you did," she gasps. "You murdered them fifteen years ago. You're a monster."
"Perhaps." I adjust her in my arms. She weighs almost nothing. Has this pack been starving her? Rage flickers through me, but I push it down. "But I'm the monster who's taking you home."
"I don't have a home anymore." Fresh tears spill down her cheeks. "Callum was my home. He was supposed to—we were supposed to—"
"He rejected you." The words come out harsher than I intended. "He chose politics over his mate. He's weak. You're better off without him."
"You don't understand—"
"I understand perfectly." I start walking toward the tree line, away from this pathetic pack and their even more pathetic future Alpha. "You loved him. He broke your heart. Now you think your life is over."
"Isn't it?" She looks up at me with those devastating violet eyes. "What life do I have now? You're going to kill me anyway, right? Just like you killed them?"
Something in my chest tightens. Does she really believe I'd hurt her? Can't she feel the mate bond forming between us, replacing the shattered one?
Maybe not. Maybe the rejection pain is too strong. Or maybe she's too young to understand what a second-chance mate means.
"I'm not going to kill you," I say carefully. "You're my mate."
"I don't want to be your mate!" She tries to push away from me. "I want Callum! I want my life back!"
"That life is gone." I tighten my grip—not enough to hurt, but enough that she can't escape. "The sooner you accept that, the better."
Behind us, I hear footsteps. Fast. Desperate.
"Wait!" Reid's voice cuts through the night. "You can't just take her!"
I stop. Turn slowly. The fool is actually running after us, his face pale with panic.
"Can't I?" I let my power flare just enough to make him stumble. "She's my mate. I can take her anywhere I want."
"She's hurt! She needs medical attention—"
"Which she'll receive. In my palace. Under my care." I study him coldly. "You had her for twenty-one years and did nothing. Fed her scraps. Worked her like a servant. Made her believe she was worthless."
Reid's face flushes. "I didn't—"
"Save it." I cut him off. "You had your chance with her. You threw it away for a political alliance. Now she's mine."
Isla makes a small sound—half sob, half laugh. "I'm not property. I'm not anyone's."
"You're wrong." I look down at her, and for a moment, I let her see something real in my eyes. Something other than cold control. "You're mine. And I protect what's mine."
"By kidnapping me?"
"By saving you from a pack that never valued you."
She doesn't have an answer for that. Because deep down, she knows I'm right. This place never loved her. They kept her because they felt obligated to. Because abandoning orphans looks bad.
But they would have thrown her out eventually. Especially now, with her Moonborn power revealed. They would have feared her. Tried to control her. Or worse—sold her to the highest bidder.
At least with me, she'll be protected. Cherished. Given everything she deserves.
Even if she hates me for it.
Reid takes another step forward. "Isla, tell him you don't want to go. Tell him—"
"She doesn't get a choice," I interrupt. "Neither do you. This conversation is over."
I start walking again. This time, no one follows. They're too afraid.
Good. Fear keeps people smart.
Isla goes quiet in my arms. I thought she might fight more. Scream. Cry. But instead, she just stares at me with those haunted violet eyes.
"What are you going to do with me?" she finally asks.
"Keep you safe."
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one you're getting tonight." I step through the tree line and into my territory. The moment I cross the boundary, my wolves appear from the shadows. Ten of them. My personal guard.
They all drop to one knee when they see Isla.
"My King," their leader, Marcus, says. "Is this—?"
"My mate. Yes." I don't break stride. "Prepare the palace. She'll need medical attention, food, and a secure room."
"How secure?" Marcus asks carefully.
Good question. Is she a guest or a prisoner? Can I trust her not to run the first chance she gets?
No. Of course I can't. She'll try to escape. Try to go back to Reid, even though he destroyed her.
Because that's what broken hearts do. They cling to what hurt them.
"Very secure," I say finally. "Post guards. But treat her with respect. Anyone who harms her answers to me."
Marcus nods and disappears to carry out my orders.
Isla's breathing changes. Gets faster. Panicked. "Guards? Locked room? You said you weren't going to hurt me!"
"I'm not. But I also can't let you leave."
"That's the same thing!"
"No. It's not." I look down at her. "Hurt would be letting you go back to that pack. Letting them use your power for their own gain. Letting other Lycans find out what you are and start a war over you."
"What I am?" She blinks. "What does that mean?"
I realize my mistake. She doesn't know. The pack never told her. They probably didn't even realize what she was until tonight.
"You're Moonborn," I explain. "A female Lycan born under a blood moon. It happens once every few centuries. Moonborn Lycans are..." I pause, choosing my words carefully. "Special. Powerful. Valuable."
"Valuable how?"
"You can bear the strongest heirs in our world. Control other wolves with just your will. Break curses. Create bonds that can't be severed." I watch her face carefully. "You're essentially a living weapon and a priceless treasure combined."
Horror floods her expression. "So that's why you want me. Not because of some mate bond. Because I'm useful to you."
The accusation stings more than it should.
"The mate bond is real," I say quietly. "Can't you feel it forming? Even now, through your rejection pain?"
She goes still. Closes her eyes. When she opens them again, they're full of confusion and fear.
"I feel something," she whispers. "But it's different from what I felt with Callum. Darker. Stronger. It scares me."
"Second-chance bonds are always stronger. More intense." I adjust my grip on her as we approach my car—black, expensive, waiting at the forest edge. "Because they're built on choice, not just fate."
"Choice?" She laughs bitterly. "What choice do I have here?"
I set her down carefully beside the car. She sways, still weak from the shift and rejection. I steady her with one hand.
"You have more choice than you think," I tell her. "I won't force the bond. Won't force you to accept me as your mate."
Hope flickers in her eyes. "Really?"
"Really." I open the car door. "But you're still coming with me. Because whether you accept the bond or not, you're too important to leave unprotected."
"So I'm a prisoner."
"You're a queen in waiting." I gesture to the car. "Get in. We have a long drive ahead."
She doesn't move. Just stares at me with those haunted eyes. "If I get in that car, I'll never see Callum again, will I?"
The question hits harder than I expected. Because she's right. Once she enters my world, there's no going back to her old life.
"No," I say honestly. "You won't."
A tear slides down her cheek. Then another. But she doesn't look away from me.
"He doesn't deserve your tears," I say softly.
"I know." Her voice breaks. "But I can't help it."
For a moment, we just stand there. The monster and the broken girl. The ancient Lycan King and the Moonborn who doesn't even know her own power yet.
Then Isla takes a shaky breath. Wipes her tears. And gets in the car.
I'm about to close the door when she speaks again.
"My parents," she says, her voice hard. "Tell me the truth. Did you kill them?"
I pause. This is the moment. I could lie. Should lie. Keep the truth buried until she's ready.
But something about the way she looks at me—like she's trying to decide if I'm a monster or just a man—makes me answer honestly.
"No," I say simply. "I didn't."
"Then who did?"
And there it is. The question I've been dreading.
Because the truth is worse than the lie.
"My brother," I tell her. "Cassian killed them. And then he framed me for it."