Chapter 16: Vulnerability

Chapter 16: Vulnerability


Lucien’s POV

The forest pressed in tight, pines clawing at the gray sky, wind cutting through my fur, cold and sharp, my paws sinking into the damp earth. Vira flanked me, mossy scent thick, her breath puffing white, Ragnar a heavy shadow on my right, scars glinting, his growl low, steady, my wolves, my hunters, my pack. We’d been out since dawn, tracking a stag, its musk faint but close, my chest heaving, ice-blue eyes narrowing, hunger gnawing at my gut, fury still simmering from her, from Selene, her green eyes blazing in my skull, her scent wild, earthy, pulling at me, stirring me, damn it, stirring me. She’d excelled yesterday, hauling wood, skinning hides, her hands steady, her strength quiet, fierce, and I hated it, hated how it twisted me, how my wolves watched her, how I watched her.

The stag bolted, antlers flashing, hooves pounding, my growl tearing free, loud, rough, lunging, claws slashing mud, Vira and Ragnar bursting with me, fur bristling, my pack, my hunt, my kill. It veered, fast, sharp, through the brush, my fangs bared, ice-blue blazing, closing in, alive, wild, relentless. I leaped, claws outstretched, sinking into its flank, blood spraying, hot, wet, its bellow loud, raw, but it twisted, antlers swinging, catching my shoulder, deep, brutal, pain searing, white-hot, my snarl choking, paws slipping, mud sucking me down. Vira hit it, mossy stench sharp, claws raking, Ragnar’s jaws snapping, crushing its throat, ending it, blood pooling, dark, slick.

I staggered, paws trembling, chest heaving, scars flexing, blood dripping from my shoulder, soaking my fur, hot, raw, alive. My growl rumbled, low, rough, shifting, fur receding, skin prickling, human again, scars stretching, shirt hanging open, blood streaking my chest, pain pulsing, fierce, deep. “Finish it,” I rasped, voice gravelly, boots sinking into the mud, ice-blue flicking to Vira, Ragnar, their fur matted, blood crusted, my wolves, my kill, my failure. Vira nodded, brown eyes glinting, dragging the stag, Ragnar growling low, steady, my chest tight, scars pulling, fury surging, hot, raw, relentless—I’d slipped, faltered, bled, damn it, bled.

The den loomed, stone cold, torchlight flickering, my boots thudding, blood dripping, leaving a trail, my shoulder throbbing, deep, sharp, alive. Vira and Ragnar hauled the stag behind, mossy scent mixing with blood, their growls low, steady, my wolves, my strength, my burden. I hit the main hall, chest heaving, scars flexing, blood soaking my shirt, torchlight catching the red, the wet, the mess. Selene stood by the fire, bare feet silent, jeans torn, sweater clinging, green eyes snapping to me, wide, then narrow, fierce, alive. “You’re a wreck,” she said, voice low, steady, stepping closer, her scent hitting me, wild, earthy, pulling me, damn it, pulling me.

“Shut up,” I snarled, voice rough, boots scuffing stone, ice-blue locking on her, chest rising, pain flaring, hot, raw, relentless. I sank onto a bench, blood dripping, pooling, my shoulder screaming, deep, brutal, alive. She smirked, faint, bitter, green eyes glinting, moving closer, too close, her heat rolling off her, thick, steamy, stirring me, damn it, stirring me. “You’ll bleed out,” she said, voice sharp, cutting, green eyes tracing me, fierce, defiant, her hands twitching, steady, alive. My growl rumbled, low, rough, ice-blue narrowing, chest tight, scars flexing, fury surging, hot, raw, endless—she’d see me weak, damn her, see me bleed.

She knelt, bare knees brushing stone, green eyes locked on mine, fierce, unyielding, her scent drowning me, wild, earthy, pulling me in, damn it, pulling me in. “Move your arm,” she said, voice low, firm, hands reaching, steady, alive. I growled, low, rough, but shifted, scars flexing, blood dripping, pain searing, deep, sharp, her fingers brushing my shoulder, warm, rough, electric, my pulse spiking, ice-blue blazing, heat coiling, low, steamy, alive. She pulled a thread from her sweater, tore a strip, green eyes glinting, fierce, focused, her hands working, threading a bone needle, steady, sure, alive.

“Hold still,” she muttered, voice low, husky, leaning in, her breath brushing my chest, hot, quick, stirring me, damn it, stirring me. Her fingers pressed my shoulder, warm, firm, blood smearing her skin, her scent thick, earthy, pulling me deeper, my chest heaving, scars flexing, pain mixing with heat, steamy, wild, alive. The needle bit, sharp, deep, my growl catching, low, rough, ice-blue locked on her, her green eyes steady, fierce, stitching me, binding me, damn her, damn her hands. Each pull tugged, pain flaring, hot, raw, her breath close, brushing my neck, steamy, electric, my pulse hammering, scars flexing, heat surging, low, sharp, relentless.

She worked, silent, steady, green eyes glinting, fierce, alive, her fingers brushing my skin, warm, rough, pulling me, damn it, pulling me. My chest tightened, ice-blue tracing her, her lips parted, breath short, her heat sinking into me, thick, steamy, stirring me, damn it, stirring me. “You’re good at this,” I rasped, voice gravelly, low, ice-blue piercing, scars flexing, pain pulsing, deep, raw, her hands pausing, green eyes flicking to mine, wide, then narrow, fierce, alive. “Had to be,” she said, voice low, steady, fingers pressing harder, warm, firm, heat coiling, steamy, wild, pulling me in, damn it, pulling me in.

The last stitch pulled tight, sharp, deep, her fingers brushing my shoulder, warm, rough, electric, my growl rumbling, low, rough, ice-blue locked on her, chest heaving, scars flexing, heat surging, low, steamy, alive. She tied it off, hands lingering, green eyes lifting, meeting mine, fierce, unyielding, her breath brushing my lips, hot, quick, stirring me, damn it, stirring me. My hand twitched, scars flexing, reaching, brushing her wrist, warm, alive, her pulse racing under my fingers, fast, hot, her skin prickling, my chest tight, ice-blue blazing, heat coiling, low, sharp, relentless. Our eyes locked, green on blue, steamy air crackling, her scent drowning me, wild, earthy, pulling me deeper, damn it, pulling me deeper.

She froze, green eyes wide, then narrow, fierce, alive, her breath hitching, lips close, too close, her heat sinking into me, thick, steamy, pulling me, damn it, pulling me. My fingers tightened, scars flexing, holding her wrist, warm, firm, her pulse hammering, fast, hot, my chest pressing closer, scars glinting, blood streaking, heat surging, low, wild, alive. “Why?” I rasped, voice gravelly, low, ice-blue piercing, her scent thick, earthy, pulling me in, damn it, pulling me in. She smirked, faint, bitter, green eyes glinting, fierce, defiant, her voice dropping, husky, lethal. “Didn’t want you dead yet,” she said, breath brushing my lips, hot, quick, stirring me, damn it, stirring me.

I didn’t push her away, didn’t growl, didn’t move, just held her there, ice-blue locked on green, chest heaving, scars flexing, pain pulsing, deep, raw, her heat sinking into me, steamy, wild, alive. My hand lingered, fingers brushing her wrist, warm, firm, her pulse racing, fast, hot, her skin prickling under me, my chest tight, ice-blue glinting, heat coiling, low, sharp, endless. She pulled back, slow, green eyes steady, fierce, breaking the hold, the heat, the pull, standing, bare feet silent, her scent lingering, wild, earthy, pulling me, damn it, pulling me. “Rest,” she said, voice low, steady, green eyes flicking to my shoulder, fierce, alive, turning, leaving me raw, tense, alive.

Vira’s growl rumbled, low, soft, brown eyes glinting from the hall, watching, wary, my wolves, my pack, my strength. My chest heaved, ice-blue narrowing, scars flexing, blood drying, pain pulsing, deep, raw, her words echoing, “didn’t want you dead yet,” cutting me, twisting me, damn her, damn her fire. I leaned back, boots scuffing stone, torchlight flickering, my shoulder throbbing, alive, her scent clinging, wild, earthy, pulling me, damn it, pulling me, and I didn’t push it away, didn’t fight it, just
let it burn, steamy, wild, alive.