Chapter 18 Luca
I should’ve been fine after leaving that diner. I’d stepped into fights before, thrown guys off, gotten between drunk idiots and my friends, and never thought much about it after the adrenaline faded. But today the adrenaline never faded and I was still thinking about it. My pulse stayed high, tight across my ribs, like my body wanted to sprint miles even though I was sitting still. My hands wouldn’t stop flexing as if they expected another punch. Something in me refused to settle and I knew exactly why.
It wasn’t just anger and jealousy, even though I’d felt a flare of that too. The second that guy grabbed Aria and crowded her against that brick wall, something in me reacted before thought existed. My wolf pushed forward like someone had unlocked a cage. It was instinct, raw and territorial instinct tied to one thing: the mate bond. I didn’t want to think about that word but it sat in my chest anyway, heavy and undeniable.
Werewolves didn't choose bonds. Something in our blood just recognizes something in somebody else, and that’s it. The bond anchors itself and instinct follows. I used to hear older werewolves talk about it like destiny and romance. It didn’t feel romantic tonight. It felt violent and felt like my entire body had one purpose and it was eliminating anything that made Aria’s heartbeat spike from fear.
I drove until town lights thinned out and parked behind the basketball courts. I killed the engine, dropped my forehead briefly to the steering wheel, and tried to breathe through the adrenaline shaking through my muscles.
Calm down. She’s fine.
My wolf didn’t care. He pressed against my ribs and paced inside my head, replaying every detail: Aria’s shoulders stiff, her breath unsteady, her voice sharper because she was scared and trying not to show it. The moment I caught that scent on her skin, every inch my control burned away.
I leaned back in the seat and stared at the windshield. My jaw hurt from clenching. I told myself it was nothing. Aria was someone I barely knew. I didn’t owe her anything, and she didn’t owe me anything. But my heartbeat reacted differently every time I even thought her name—Aria Morgan—my pulse responded like someone had pressed a live wire to my skin. That wasn’t just a normal attraction. That was the bond threading deeper, whether I wanted it or not.
I got out of the car because sitting made me feel trapped. Aria’s scent still lingered in my memory. My wolf didn’t care that she was miles away now. He’s still thinking about her and won’t drop it.
I dragged a hand down my face and tried to reason with myself. The guy at the diner hadn’t acted normal and wasn’t some drunk loser starting a random fight. He smelled wrong—sour, twisted with the scent we associate with rogues. So that rogue targeted her and got his hands on her. My stomach turned sharply. I paced across the court wanting to hit something, run somewhere, and hunt down the rogue and making sure he never spoke again.
I pressed both hands against the fence, trying to let the cold metal ground me, but my skin wouldn’t register calm. Heat crawled under the surface, that bone-deep warmth that meant my wolf wanted out.
“Not happening,” I muttered.
My shoulder blades tightened first, muscle pulling like rope drawn too tight. My vision sharpened again, colours separating into unnatural clarity. My hearing ticked into that high-alert range where every sound broke into layers. That was the warning stage. Shift or lose control.
My wolf pushed at the edges of my mind, impatient, pacing, and reacting to adrenaline that had nowhere to go. He didn’t want reason or restraint. He wanted to run. He wanted the woods. He wanted the scent of that rogue. And underneath all of that, pulsing hard and steady, he wanted Aria safe.
I tipped my head back and exhaled slowly but it didn’t matter. The change hit anyway. Bones cracked and shifted. My spine bowed, heat ripping through it like someone poured fire straight into my marrow. I could feel my clothes ripping away from my body. I dropped to one knee, fingers curling into the pavement as claws pushed at the tips. It was over in seconds. When I stood again, my paws hit asphalt heavy, silent, familiar. My fur was thick and black with a streak of ash running down the spine. My wolf eyes—amber, bright and unblinking—locked on the tree line like I expected the rogue to be waiting there.
I dug claws into the pavement and finally felt like the pressure had somewhere to go. A plan built itself in my mind—track the rogue. Find out if he acted alone and make sure he never comes near Aria again. But there was something else, something that worried me more: the rogue recognized me. He knew I was a werewolf which meant rogues were getting bold in Silverpine. And if anyone learned what Aria was to me, she’d become leverage. I told myself the bond didn’t own me, that I could resist it. But deep down, I already felt that lock—like fate had closed a door behind me and there was no going back. I just couldn't outrightly reject the bond, it'll tear us apart and leave us hollow. Especially me.
Aria Morgan was bonded to me and my wolf accepted it and I have to. If anyone laid a hand on her again, I wouldn’t be able to promise restraint. And right now, the only thought that registered cleanly was hers. My wolf wanted her safe, whether she understood any of this or not. It wanted to hunt and rip apart anything that tried to harm her. I bolted into the dark letting instinct choose the path. Tonight wasn’t about restraint anymore. Tonight was about protection and about a bond I couldn’t outrun. And if finding that rogue meant answers or blood, my wolf was ready for both.