Avoiding Him

Avoiding Him
The news spread through the settlement by evening. Celeste Landon was staying. Not for a day. Not for a casual visit. She'd taken a room in the guest quarters and announced her intention to remain for several days.

Maybe longer.

I heard about it from one of the younger pack members during dinner. She spoke quietly. Carefully. Like she wasn't sure if I'd already known.

I hadn't. But I wasn't surprised.

"Why is she staying?" the girl asked.

"I don't know."

"Connor asked her to leave politely. She refused."

I set down my fork. "What did she say?"

"Something about vampire tradition. About the Landon name giving her rights. About unfinished business with Darian."

My stomach turned. I pushed my plate away.

The girl watched me. Worried. "Are you okay?"

"Fine."

I stood. Left the place before anyone could ask more questions.

Outside, the air was cool. Clean. I breathed deeply. Tried to settle the anger building in my chest.

Vampire tradition. Landon name. Unfinished business.

The words felt like weapons. Carefully chosen. Designed to stake a claim.

I walked toward the training grounds. Empty at this hour. The others had finished for the day. Gone home to their families. Their mates. Their normal lives.

I grabbed practice weapons from the rack. Started running drills.

Strike. Block. Dodge. Strike again.

My body moved through familiar patterns. Muscle memory taking over. Physical effort drowning out thought.

The bond pulsed. Darian was nearby. Somewhere in the settlement. I felt his presence like a constant pressure.

I ignored it. Focused on the training post in front of me.

Strike. Strike. Strike.

My knuckles split. Blood ran down my hands. I didn't stop.

"Lyra."

His voice. Behind me.

I didn't turn around. Didn't acknowledge him. Just kept hitting the post.

"We need to talk," he said.

"No."

"Please. Just listen—"

"I said no."

I hit the post harder. Pain exploded through my hand. Good. Better than the pain in my chest.

"You can't avoid me forever," he said.

"Watch me."

Silence. I felt him standing there. Felt his frustration. His hurt. His confusion.

Then footsteps. Walking away.

I stopped. Leaned against the post. My hands shook. Blood dripped onto the dirt.

Good. Let him walk away. Let him understand what it felt like.

The next day, I took morning patrol. Left before dawn. Stayed out longer than necessary. Checked borders that didn't need checking. Anything to avoid the settlement. Avoid him.

When I returned, he was waiting near the gates. Saw me coming. Started walking toward me.

I changed direction. Went around the long way. Entered through the east entrance instead.

Heard him call my name. Didn't stop.

Later that afternoon, I was in the armory. Sharpening weapons. Organizing supplies. Busy work. Anything to keep my hands and mind occupied.

The door opened. I knew without looking. Felt him through the bond.

I gathered my things. Started for the door.

"Lyra. Stop."

His hand caught my arm. Gentle. Careful.

I pulled free. "Don't."

"Just give me five minutes. That's all I'm asking."

"I don't have five minutes."

"You're lying."

"So what?"

I pushed past him. Out the door. Into the afternoon sun.

He followed. "This is ridiculous. We're mates. We can't just not talk."

"We can if I say we can."

"That's not how this works."

I spun around. Faced him. "Then how does it work, Darian? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you have an ex-fiancée living in my settlement. Acting like she owns you. And you can't even make her leave."

"I'm trying—"

"Are you? Because it doesn't look like it."

His jaw tightened. "She has rights. According to vampire law. According to traditions that predate both of us. I can't just throw her out without consequences."

"What consequences?"

"Political ones. The debt I owe her family. The alliances that still matter. It's complicated."

"You keep saying that."

"Because it's true."

"Then uncomplicate it."

"I'm trying to. But I need time. And I need you to trust me."

I laughed. Bitter. Harsh. "Trust you? When you can't even tell her to leave? When she's walking around my home like she belongs here?"

"She doesn't belong here. You do. You're my mate. My choice. Nothing changes that."

"Everything changes that."

I turned and walked away. Again. Didn't give him a chance to respond. Didn't give myself a chance to weaken.

The pattern continued. Days blurred together. I avoided him with military precision. Knew his schedule. Knew where he'd be. Made sure I was somewhere else.

Training grounds when he was in meetings. Patrols when he was training. My room when he was in common areas.

We lived in the same settlement but might as well have been in different territories.

I saw him sometimes. From a distance. Across the square. Through windows. He always looked tired. Frustrated. Lost.

Good. Let him feel it.

The bond ached constantly. Pulled at me. Demanded I go to him. Demanded I fix this. Demanded I stop being stubborn and just talk.

I refused.

My wolf was restless. Paced constantly. Didn't understand why we were avoiding our mate. Why we were causing ourselves pain.

I told her to shut up.

One evening, I saw him in the dining hall. Sat at the far end. Back to the wall. He looked up when I entered. Our eyes met across the room.

I turned around. Left. Went back to my room hungry.

Another time, he caught me near the gates. Started walking toward me with purpose. Determination.

I shifted. Ran into the forest before he could reach me. Stayed out until nightfall.

His frustration bled through the bond. Sharp. Bitter. He was angry now. Not just hurt. Actually angry that I wouldn't give him a chance.

Part of me felt guilty. Knew I was being unfair. Knew he deserved a chance to fix things.

But the larger part was still wounded. Still saw Celeste's mouth on his. Still heard her calling him hers. Still felt the shock of discovering he'd been engaged. That he owed debts I didn't understand. That his past was more complicated than he'd ever admitted.

So I kept my distance. Maintained walls. Protected myself the only way I knew how.

By staying away.

By refusing to let him close enough to hurt me again.

On the fifth day, I saw him from the training grounds. He stood on the path above. Just watching. Not approaching. Not calling out.

Just standing there. Looking at me like he'd lost something precious and didn't know how to get it back.

I looked away first. Went back to my drills. Pretended I didn't feel his eyes on me. Pretended the bond wasn't screaming. Pretended everything was fine.

It wasn't.

But pretending was easier than facing the truth.

Easier than admitting I didn't know how to fix this. Didn't know if this could be fixed.

Easier than acknowledging that maybe I'd made a mistake. That maybe running from him was just another form of letting fear win.

But I wasn't ready to admit that yet.

So I kept running. Kept avoiding. Kept pretending.

And watched from a distance as everything we'd built together slowly crumbled.