Lucian's POV
A jagged laugh tore from my throat. The memory of that night crashed over me, heavy and suffocating. She was helpless. Blood soaked into the ground beneath her, and she was inches from the end. One quick snap of her neck and the mercy would have been hers.
So why the hell couldn't I just end it?
I drained the last of the whiskey, the amber liquid searing my throat. I slammed the glass down, the sound echoing off the bare walls. It shattered against the scarred table, shards biting into my palm and scattering like my thoughts.
"Lucian!" Ragnar barked from the doorway. His shadow stretched across the floor as he watched the blood drip from my knuckles. "What's gotten into you? You've been acting strange since you stepped back into this cabin."
I looked at him, a dark, slow smirk pulling at my lips.
"I saved an omega," I said. The words felt flat, wrong.
Ragnar froze. The shock on his face was enough to make me let out another rough, broken laugh. I shoved away from the table, the chair legs screaming against the floorboards.
"You saved an omega? Why?" Ragnar stepped closer, his voice dropping low, the way you talk to a wild animal.
I stopped mid-stride. The question hit me harder than it should have.
"I don't have an answer for that." My voice was gravel, laced with a confusion I hated admitting. "I'm a rogue. I kill anyone who crosses me—especially pack wolves. But the need to save her... it was something I've never felt before. Like my wolf wouldn't let me walk away."
Her scent was still trapped in my lungs—sweet, warm, and impossible to shake. It clawed at my chest, demanding and pulling. Mate? The word burned in my mind. I shoved it down hard. There was no way a rogue like me would ever have a mate.
Ragnar studied me, the silence in the cabin stretching too long. "You going back for her?"
"What do you think?" A slow, dangerous smirk pulled at my lips. "I saved her. It's only right that I'm the one who ends her."
Ragnar nodded, his expression hardening. "Good. We don't need the distraction. Come with me—the new blood has arrived."
I followed him down into the gut of the cabin. The air in the basement was thick, smelling of damp earth and unwashed skin. It was packed with wolves like us—the abandoned, the cast-out, and the betrayed. Every face in that room carried the same shadow I did: the sting of a title stripped away.
"Bring them out," I commanded.
Two of my men hauled the recruits forward. I looked them over, my wolf pacing with a restless, hungry energy. Every new body was another weapon for the army I was building. Every desperate soul was a brick in the wall I was slamming down on the packs.
"You both know why you're here, right?" I let my voice drop, cold and sharp.
They both nodded, their eyes wide and fixed on me.
"Good. Welcome home," I said, my smirk widening. "Here, there are no councils. No Alphas demanding your soul. You live how you want. You are finally free to be the monsters they claim you are."
A roar of approval erupted, the sound of their shouting vibrating against the low ceiling. I let the noise wash over me. This was my kingdom now.
Later, the damp heat of the basement gave way to the quiet of the upper floor.
"The new supply of the drugs is in," Ragnar said, leaning against the doorframe. "We're just waiting on your word to move them."
"Distribute them," I snapped. "And don't spare anyone who tries to block the path. If they stand between the people and the supply, they die."
Ragnar hesitated, his jaw tightening. "There's a problem. Alpha Aiden's men are crawling all over the drop site."
The name hit me like a physical spark to a powder keg. Aiden. My blood boiled, the familiar rage clawing at my throat. He was the one who had stripped me of my crown, the one who had poisoned the pack's minds until they saw me as a monster. He wasn't entirely wrong—but I would have died for that pack. Now, I would give everything to see them burn.
"Stay ahead of them," I growled, my voice vibrating with a lethal edge. "Kill anyone in your way and get those drugs into the streets."
Ragnar nodded once and disappeared into the shadows.
I pushed my hair back, my skin crawling with irritation. I stared into the dark, a silent promise echoing in my head. The next time I stood face-to-face with Aiden, I wouldn't be talking. I'd be ripping the life from his throat.
***
I lay flat on my back, staring at the cracked ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, that scent crept back in—sweet, wild, and haunting. It wouldn't let me go. My wolf was spiraling behind my ribs, a restless, pacing beast that refused to settle. If I didn't end her life tonight, I would never know peace again. I needed to cut the anchor that was dragging me down.
I rolled out of bed and pulled on a dark hoodie and a mask, hiding the face the hospital staff had seen in my moment of desperation. I wasn't that man anymore. Tonight, I was the rogue.
The midnight air was biting as I reached the hospital. I bypassed the main entrance, scaled the side of the building, and moved across the roof like a shadow. I found a cracked bathroom window—a sloppy mistake on their part—and slipped inside.
As I moved down the sterile, white hallway, the scent hit me again. It was stronger here, thick enough to taste. It wrapped around my heart and squeezed, an ache blooming in my chest that I couldn't explain. My wolf was clawing to get out, losing all control as I reached a specific door.
I shoved it open and stepped inside, my hand already reaching for the blade at my belt.
Empty.
The bed was made, the monitors dark. I growled, looking around the shadows. Maybe the scent had tricked me. Maybe I was in the wrong room.
"Who are you?"
The voice came from behind me. Soft. Shaky.
I spun around, my body primed to strike, but I froze. My gaze met hers, and the world seemed to tilt on its axis. The ice in my veins didn't just melt; it shattered. My heart hammered against my ribs—a frantic, rhythmic drumming I had never felt in all my years.
My wolf went silent, then bowed.
The truth crashed over me, more terrifying than anything.
mate.