Chapter 26 Fucked In The Woods (5)

Chapter 26 Fucked In The Woods (5)
—•LUCIA•—

I stared at the Rogue King, eyes wide, my heart slamming against my ribs so hard I swore he could hear it.

He needed me to break his curse?

He had to be joking.

What he said made absolutely no sense at all.

An almost suffocating silence settled between us.

After what felt like forever, I finally found my voice.

“Stop joking around. It’s not funny.” I scoffed, shaking my head.

“I’m not joking,” he said.

His face was completely straight. No smirk, no amusement flickering in those dark eyes.

Just a stark, unsettling seriousness that made my stomach drop.

I searched his face, scanning every inch of his expression that would give him away.

A twitch of his lips, a glint of mockery—anything that would prove this was just another one of his twisted games.

But there was nothing.

And that sent my mood crashing from eighty to zero in an instant.

If he was telling the truth, then he had no intention of letting me go. Not now. Not ever.

I wasn’t just his mate.

I was his solution.

The key to breaking his so-called curse.

I was doomed.

Completely and utterly doomed.

My throat tightened as the realization settled into my bones like frost.

There was no bargaining chip here, nothing I could offer in exchange for my freedom, because I was the very thing he wanted. The thing he needed.

I had to run. Now. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t get another chance.

‘Let’s not run. He’s our mate.’

Skylar’s voice slithered through my mind, and I blocked her out immediately.

I didn’t want to deal with her right now.

She’d been throwing fits every time we came within a foot of the Rogue King, purring and begging me to bond with him like a child asking for sweets.

But that was never going to happen.

I didn’t even want to be near him again.

What I had experienced today was more than enough. 

The way my body had betrayed me, the way my knees had gone weak, the way my back had arched against his touch as though I had been made to fit against him.

A heavy unease twisted in my stomach.

The Rogue King moved forward, his boots crunching against the forest floor as he stared at a bird that flew past.

I took it as my cue.

I turned and ran.

My legs pumped beneath me, carrying me away from him as fast as they could.

Grass whipped at my ankles, and branches reached out like bony fingers, scratching at my arms, my face, my gown.

I didn’t care. I didn’t stop. I didn’t even look back.

I didn’t dare check if the Rogue King was running after me.

I just wanted to get as far away as I could, as fast as I could.

Maybe I was scared that if I looked, if I saw him closing the distance, panic would take over and slow me down.

“Skylar, shift. Please,” I mindlinked Skylar.

Nothing.

“Skylar!”

Still no response.

I could feel her curled up in the corner of my mind, stubborn and silent, clearly angry with me for shutting her out earlier.

Fine. I didn’t need her.

I kept running anyway, using every ounce of strength I had.

My bare feet pounded against the earth, thorns biting into my soles, but I didn’t feel the pain.

I couldn’t feel anything except the raw, primal need to put distance between me and that monster.

Minutes passed. Or maybe hours. I couldn’t tell anymore.

My sense of time had completely slipped away in the chaos of running.

When I’d gone far enough, I ducked behind a massive oak tree and stopped, pressing my back against its rough bark.

My lungs burned, desperate for air I couldn’t seem to pull in fast enough.

Each breath came out in ragged, broken gasps.

I peered around the trunk to check, but I didn’t see anyone.

A sigh of relief slipped out of me.

Looking up, I realized night was already closing in.

The sky had deepened from bruised purple to pitch black, and the shadows between the trees stretched long.

“Shit, I need to hurry.”

I looked around, trying to get my bearings, and my heart sank.

Everything looked the same. The same twisted roots, the same looming trees, the same carpet of dead leaves that crackled beneath my feet no matter which direction I turned.

It felt like I had been running in circles.

The forest was too big, and now the sun had gone down, leaving everything too dark to make sense of.

At this point, I doubted I would be able to find my way home tonight.

But I couldn’t give up.

I had come too far for that now.

I lifted my gaze to the sky, searching for any sign of the moon, and the instant I found it, my blood turned cold.

The moon was full, glowing like a malevolent eye staring down at the world.

“Damn. It’s a fucking full moon”

I shouldn’t be out here in these woods.

That was when most wolves went into rut and heat.                                                

It was too dangerous.

If any of them caught my scent—rogues, pack wolves, it didn’t matter—a lone female, especially an omega like me, in the middle of the night under a full moon, was practically an invitation.

I needed to leave the woods fast. Now.

I pushed off from the tree, ready to keep moving, ready to find somewhere, anywhere, to hide.

“Did you have fun running away?” a voice growled from directly behind me, low and dark, dripping with amusement.

I froze.

Every muscle in my body locked up as I recognized that voice.

The Rogue King.

Slowly, I turned, my heart hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.

He was standing there, leaning against a tree as though he hadn’t just chased me through the forest for hours, as though he hadn’t broken a sweat.

His arms were crossed over his chest, his head tilted slightly.

And his eyes…

They glowed red.

Not the dark amber I had seen earlier.

Not the dark brown that had almost made him look human.

Red. Deep and burning like embers pulled from the heart of a fire.

My stomach dropped.

He was in his rut.

Shit!

I needed to run. Now.

I took a step back, my foot landing on a dry twig that snapped like a bone breaking.

In a flash, he was in front of me.

I didn’t see him move.

One moment there was distance between us, and the next his body was flush against mine, his hands gripping my hips, pulling me so close I could feel every hard line of him through the thin fabric of my gown.

“Where do you think you’re going?” His voice was a low growl that vibrated through my chest.

“Away from you.” The words came out shaky, breathless, nothing like the defiance I intended.

“Not on my watch,” he grunted.

He dipped his head, his nose brushing against the curve of my neck.

He inhaled my skin, slow and deep, like he was savoring my scent.

“You smell so good.” His tongue flicked out, dragging a hot, wet line up the side of my neck.

A whimper escaped me. High. Broken. Pathetic.

I hated myself for it.

His hot breath fanned across my skin.

His hands tightened on my hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh hard enough to bruise.

“I’m going to make you mine tonight,” he growled.