Chapter 25 LUCIAN
LUCIAN’S POV
The scent of antiseptic in the pack hospital always hit me the same way. It was sharp, sterile, and unwelcome. It clung to my tongue like frost, coating the back of my throat as I paced the narrow hallway outside Orion’s exam room for the third time in under a minute.
Aria sat on the edge of the bed closest to the window, small, tense, fingers twisted together in her lap. Her cheeks were still flushed from earlier–goddess, earlier–and she refused to meet my eyes.
I hated how she shrank in on herself. I hated that I couldn’t pull her into my arms and make all of it disappear. And I hated, more than anything, that I had to beg her to even come here with me because she was embarrassed by something that was absolutely not her fault.
But before that, before everything spiraled I couldn’t stop replaying the disaster of a morning that had already drained every ounce of my patience.
It started with Malrik’s voice.
Of course it did.
I’d barely taken my seat in the council chamber before he launched into another performance loud, condescending, brimming with the smugness of a man who thought he still had power.
“Your leadership is slipping, Lucian,” he’d said, fingers steepled on the polished table. “First the humans complain about border patrol sightings, then wolves report rogue activities increasing, and now,”
“And now what?” I’d snapped before I could stop myself.
He smiled. Slow. Deliberate. Poisonous.
“Now even your Beta questions your decisions.”
Darius stiffened beside me. “I never said that.”
“But you implied it,” Malrik purred.
The other elders shifted uncomfortably but said nothing, typical. They disliked Malrik, but they feared him more. And he fed off that fear like it was oxygen.
I had already woken up irritable, already restless, something was wrong, something I couldn’t name yet. So when Malrik pushed further, hammering every point with the intention to embarrass me in front of the council, I felt my wolf surge up with a snarl.
“You forget your place,” I growled.
“And you forget yours, Alpha,” Malrik returned smoothly. “Perhaps the pressure is getting to you.”
Before I could respond, Darius leaned close, voice low with urgency.
“I need to tell you something. Last night, after the meeting I followed him.”
Every elder froze. Malrik’s expression faltered, but only for a second. I hid my triumph.
“Continue,” I murmured.
“I tailed him toward the eastern ridge,” Darius said, jaw tight. “And then rogues ambushed me.”
A ripple of alarm moved through the council.
I felt my pulse spike. “How many?”
“Six.”
Six rogues attacking a Beta on pack land?
Suspicious didn’t even begin to cover it.
“I handled them,” Darius continued. “But when I went back to look for Malrik? He was gone. Disappeared. Conveniently.”
Malrik’s eyes sharpened. “Are you accusing me of something, boy?”
Darius bristled. “I’m stating facts.”
The argument that followed stretched nearly an hour, elders bickering, Malrik deflecting, Darius insisting something didn’t add up, me trying not to leap across the table and remove Malrik’s throat.
By the time I dismissed everyone, my head throbbed and my wolf was pacing violently beneath my skin.
“Keep watching him,” I told Darius before he left. “Don’t approach. Don’t confront. Just keep your eyes on him.”
“And you?” he asked.
I exhaled. “I’ll start digging on my end.”
Because whatever Malrik was involved in, it wasn’t small.
And I was going to get to the bottom of it.
By the time I left the council hall, all I wanted was to go home, find Aria, and finally breathe. Maybe sleep. Maybe hold her until the tension in my bones eased.
I had walked in the house, and managed to say hi to everyone, just seeing Aria alone was enough to brighten up my shitty day, so I headed up for a quick shower before going downstairs to spend some time with my family.
My family…it felt wonderful to say.
I was done showering before Aria came to find me.
She stood by the door first, before waking steadily towards me, like a predator locking in on her prey.
Her eyes glazed, body flushed, pupils blown wide, breathing uneven.
Her scent was different.
Stronger. Sweeter. Pulling at me like a force I barely resisted.
And then she–goddess–she acted in a way she never had before. Bold, needy, trembling, then suddenly horrified with herself, stumbling away from me, insisting she was fine, that nothing was wrong, that she didn’t know what came over her.
She wouldn’t let me touch her.
Wouldn’t let me help.
Wouldn’t let me calm her.
I had to coax her gently, slowly, carefully past her embarrassment until she finally–finally–agreed to come with me to see Orion.
And now… here we were.
Back in the hospital.
Orion finally came.
Almost immediately he lifted a hand from the doorway. “Lucian, step outside. I need a moment alone with Aria.”
I stared at him. “I’m not leaving her.”
“Just the hallway,” he said gently. “She needs privacy for this part.”
Aria’s cheeks went scarlet.
I swallowed my protest. “Fine. But call me in the second you’re done.”
She nodded without looking at me.
The door shut behind me with a soft click.
The wait felt like torture.
My wolf kept pacing, snarling, urging me to break the door down. I’d never been shut out of anything involving my mate. Not like this.
What the hell was wrong?
What had triggered this?
I was halfway through wearing a groove into the floor when the door finally opened.
“Lucian,” Orion said, stepping aside. “You can come back now.”
I didn’t breathe until I saw her.
Aria sat perched on the edge of the exam bed again, fingers knotted together, head lowered. Her scent was warmer now, thicker, humming with something primal and unmistakable.
Heat.
My pulse dropped like a stone.
The thought had crossed my mind, but I wasn't entirely sure and I didn't want to assume but now it was unmistakable.
Orion cleared his throat. “We’ll discuss the details later, Alpha. For now I’ll let you two talk.”
He slipped out.
Leaving me alone with my mate.
I approached slowly. “Aria?”
She lifted her gaze but only briefly. “Um… so… Orion explained everything.”
“And?”
She swallowed hard. “My heat is coming.”
The floor felt like it tilted.
“When?”
“Soon,” she whispered.
I sat beside her carefully, afraid she might bolt. “Is that what happened earlier?”
She nodded, mortified. “He said… because I put it off for so long… it’s going to be… intense.”
I cupped her jaw gently, forcing her to look at me. “Aria. There is nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I acted crazy,” she muttered.
“You acted like a wolf in pre-heat,” I corrected softly. “There’s a difference.”
Her eyes darted away again. “He also said it might last longer than the normal five days.”
I blinked. “Longer? How much longer?”
“A week. Maybe more.”
My mind spun.
I had never dealt with a she-wolf going into heat. Not personally. Not directly. Not while being her mate.
“And… has it started?” I asked.
“Not fully. Pre-heat is just the beginning.”
I let out a slow breath. “Okay. What do we do?”
Her blush deepened. “He said… I won’t be satisfied without you. Because we’re fated. And I shouldn’t be around unmated wolves. Or mated ones. Or… anyone.”
My wolf rumbled possessively.
“And you?” I asked softly. “Do you want me with you?”
Her breath caught.
Then, so quiet I barely heard it: “Yes.”
I kissed her forehead. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”
But internally, panic scratched at my ribs. I had no idea what I was supposed to do practically, physically and even emotionally to help her through something so intense.
“I’ll talk to Orion,” I said. “I’ll only be gone a minute.”
She nodded timidly, but I felt the way her scent tightened when I moved toward the door. She didn’t want me far.
I squeezed her hand. “I’ll be right back.”
Orion was already waiting for me.
“I need instructions,” I said bluntly.
He huffed a laugh. “I figured.”
“This is my first time dealing with anything like this. Tell me everything. How do I keep her safe? How do I help her? Where do we go? What should I prepare for?”
Orion’s smile faded into something serious. “You need privacy. Complete isolation.”
“Where?”
“The family cottage near the pack borders,” he said. “It’s far enough from everyone. Quiet. Secluded.”
That old place? I hadn’t set foot there in years.
“Stock up on food and supplies,” Orion continued. “Once her heat peaks, you might not be leaving for a while. And Lucian…” He hesitated. “You’ll need your stamina.”
I blinked. “Meaning?”
“Meaning support her. Often. For days.” He folded his arms. “You can’t walk away from her when it gets overwhelming. And it will get overwhelming.”
My heart pounded.
Not from fear, but from the sudden weight of responsibility.
“For how long?” I asked.
“Until her heat breaks.”
“And there’s no other way?”
He shook his head. “Not when you’re mated. She’ll be in pain without you.”
My jaw clenched. “Then I’ll stay with her. Every second.”
“I assumed as much.”
We discussed more details, cycles, triggers, symptoms, what to expect when the scent spike hit, how to monitor her hydration, what signs meant I needed to intervene, how to ground her through overstimulation, when to let instinct guide things and when to pull back.
By the time I left, my head was full but my path was clear.
She stood when I opened the exam door, immediately trying to mask the worry in her eyes.
“I’m taking you home,” I said gently. “You should say goodbye to Josie, the triplets, your friends. I’m going to prepare everything we need.”
Her lips parted. “Okay… but Lucian,”
“I’ll handle it,” I said before she spiraled. “I promise.”
Her shoulders loosened, relief softening her expression. But beneath it, I could still feel her fear, her uncertainty, her nervousness about what the next days would demand of her… of us.
I took her hands in mine.
“Aria,” I murmured. “Look at me.”
She did.
“I’m here. Every step of the way. Nothing about this scares me. Not you. Not your heat. Not what it means. Not what it requires.”
Her bottom lip trembled.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“I know,” I said, pulling her into my chest. “But I’m not. And I won’t leave you. Ever.”
After a moment, she nodded against me.
“Okay,” she breathed. “Okay.”
I kissed her temple and led her out of the hospital toward home, toward her friends, toward preparation.
Toward the cottage.
Toward the days ahead.
The ones we’d face together.