Chapter 80: The Fire Within
The stone corridor swayed around her as Livia clung desperately to the wall, her breath coming in short, ragged gasps. The heat was relentless now — no longer a flicker in her chest but a raging wildfire tearing through every nerve, every inch of her trembling body.
Her knees buckled, and she stumbled forward, pressing her forehead against the cold stone in a futile attempt to steady herself. But nothing helped.
Her skin burned as if molten fire had replaced her blood, and her heart pounded so violently she swore the entire pack could hear it.
> “Lilly…” she whimpered. “It’s too much…”
> “Hold on,” her wolf whispered back, her voice just as shaky. “We knew this would happen. We’re free now… and this is the price.”
A small, broken laugh escaped Livia’s lips — part sob, part disbelief. This was supposed to be the beginning of her freedom, the first breath of a life that was finally her own. But instead, her body was betraying her, dragging her into a primal storm she could not control.
And then it happened.
A soft, sweet scent burst from her skin — delicate at first, then thick and consuming — swirling into the air like invisible smoke. It was intoxicating, dizzying, laced with the unmistakable signature of a she-wolf in rut. And it spreads fast.
Down the corridor.
Through the stone halls.
Out into the heart of the Blood Moon Pack.
Every werewolf who caught the faintest hint of it froze.
Guards posted near the doors turned their heads sharply, nostrils flaring. Warriors training in the courtyard stumbled mid-swing, eyes darkening as instinct clawed at their composure.
Even omegas cleaning the floors paused, breathless, as the scent wound its way through the air like a silken snare.
“That smell…” one whispered, voice hushed with awe and hunger.
“Who is it?” another breathed, eyes glazing over as their wolves stirred.
It wasn’t just a scent. It was a call — ancient and instinctive — and it pulled at every wolf’s blood, demanding they pay attention.
“Alert the Lycan,” one of the warriors barked, his voice hoarse as he fought to keep control.
“Now!”
They rushed down the halls, but not before glancing once toward the corridor where the scent was strongest — where a trembling, beautiful figure struggled to stay standing.
And somewhere deeper inside the pack house, that scent finally reached him.
Aldus was halfway through speaking with a warrior when the fragrance hit his senses — faint at first, then all-consuming. It was sweet. Wild. Irresistible. And heartbreakingly familiar.
His breath caught in his throat.
“Livia…” he whispered.
For a moment, he couldn’t move. His body locked, every muscle taut as his wolf roared awake inside him, clawing at the edges of his control.
The scent was driving him mad — demanding, alluring, a primal song that resonated with every instinct he’d ever buried.
> “She’s in rut,” his wolf growled, voice low and rough. “She needs us.”
“No,” Aldus hissed through clenched teeth, shaking his head as if that could break the pull. “She needs space. She needs—”
But his body betrayed him. His hands were shaking, his heartbeat thundering, and his chest felt like it was going to burst. Every cell screamed at him to go to her — to follow the scent, to protect, to claim, to be there.
He slammed a fist against the wall, struggling to keep control. This wasn’t how he had planned to see her again. Not like this — vulnerable, trembling, consumed by instincts she couldn’t fight. But now, there was no denying it.
Livia bit down hard on her lip, the copper taste of blood mixing with the ragged breaths tearing out of her chest. The heat was unbearable now — a molten tide rolling beneath her skin, threatening to devour every shred of control she had left.
She could feel it — the primal urge clawing at her spine, demanding relief.
It whispered wicked promises in her ear.
It told her that if someone — anyone — touched her, she would break. That she would beg. That she would let them.
> “We have to go,” Lilly urged, her voice frantic and shaking. “We can’t stay here — not like this.”
Livia’s nails scraped against the wall as she pushed herself forward, every step a battle. Her legs trembled violently, her body screaming for contact, for warmth, for the touch that would ease the inferno tearing through her. But she refused to give in. Not like this. Not when her freedom had just begun.
“I won’t—” she gasped, staggering around the corner of the corridor. “I won’t let it happen.”
The scent pouring off her body grew stronger with every heartbeat, thickening the air around her like invisible smoke. She knew they could smell it. Every wolf in the pack could. And if they find her like this…it will destroy her.
Livia stumbled down a flight of stairs, half-falling as her legs buckled beneath her. She bit down on a scream, forcing herself back up and rushing deeper into the packhouse.
The hallways blurred around her. Her body was slick with sweat, her breathing uneven. Every heartbeat made her ache, every breath made the fire spread.
“Where is she?” voices echoed down the hall.
“She’s close — I can smell her!”
Panic surged through her chest. They were getting nearer. Those wolves are surely not part of the Blood Moon.
Livia’s vision swam, her body shaking uncontrollably as she forced herself into a narrow service passage near the back of the packhouse — a hidden corridor used by omegas and cleaners.
She slammed the door shut behind her, pressing her back against it, panting like she had run a marathon.
“Please…” she whispered into the silence, tears burning her eyes. “Please… don’t let anyone find me…”
> “We’re losing control,” Lilly whimpered. “Our body can’t hold much longer.”
“I know,” Livia choked out, curling in on herself. “But I have to try…”
Every muscle aches. Her skin burned. She clawed at the fabric of her clothes as if tearing them off would ease the pressure coiling inside her. But nothing worked. The scent — her own scent — was intoxicating, curling around her like a trap she couldn’t escape.
And somewhere beyond the thin wooden door, footsteps grew louder. Heavier.
Closer.