Chapter 5
Lyrian
It started with shadows moving where they shouldn't be. I thought that I was becoming paranoid, but certain hints proved otherwise.
I noticed it first on my walk home from work three nights after Zoren's visit. A black SUV with tinted windows parked two blocks from my apartment, its presence too sleek and purposeful for this run-down neighborhood. The next night, it was there again, but in a different spot. Professional surveillance. Someone was watching me.
If I hadn't been on the run for so long, I wouldn't have noticed the extra pair of eyes on me.
My morning routine became an exercise in hypervigilance, which was different from what it usually was, but not too much so. I caught glimpses of well-dressed men with too-straight postures in my peripheral vision. Their attempts at blending in were good—if I hadn't spent years learning to spot followers, I might have missed them. But I knew what to look for, and they were everywhere. They couldn't miss a single moment in my life.
The mark behind my ear hadn't stopped burning since Zoren's visit, and now I understood why. It had been warning me. It was trying to tell me to run away.
Today, as I wiped down the bar's surface for the hundredth time, I watched a man in an expensive suit enter, order a single drink, and leave after fifteen minutes. Three hours later, a woman did the same thing. Their movements were too precise, their attention too masterfully divided between me and their surroundings. Nightshade wolves, no doubt about it. They wanted to know everything about me.
"You've got quite the fan club lately," Mae commented as she restocked the bourbon shelf. Her tone was casual, but her eyes held concern. Even she was beginning to notice something was wrong. "Important people asking about you."
My hands stilled on the rag. "What kind of people?" I tried to keep my voice steady, but my heart was racing. How many questions had been asked about me? How much did they already know?
"The kind that carry themselves like they own the world," she replied. "The kind that makes my old bones ache with memories of other refugees I've helped." She paused, studying me. She was trying to figure out what to say next. "The kind that won't stop until they get what they want."
I swallowed hard. Mae knew more than she let on—she always had. "I should leave." The words tasted bitter on my tongue. Months of relative peace living here, the closest thing to a home I'd had in years, all about to disappear again.
It was unfortunate, but not unexpected. I had always been ready for this moment.
"Should you?" Mae's weathered hand covered mine. "Sometimes, running isn't the answer, child."
But before I could respond, that now-familiar warmth bloomed in my chest—the one that had been appearing randomly since Zoren's visit. It felt like sunlight breaking through clouds, like the moon's pull during a full night, like... like something I was afraid to name. I didn't even want to think about it.
The sensation was strongest when I thought about him. About Zoren. Even now, remembering those amber eyes sent shivers down my spine that weren't entirely fear. What was happening to me? I had no idea.
Later that night, as I locked up, I caught another sign of surveillance—a faint magical signature on the back door's lock. Someone had placed a tracking spell, expertly crafted but still detectable to my enhanced senses. They were getting bolder.
In my small apartment, I paced the worn floorboards, my mind racing. The Nightshade Wolves were closing in, that much was certain. Their reputation preceded them—the most powerful shifter cartel in North America, known for collecting magical artifacts and individuals of special ability. The way Zoren had looked at me... he knew what I was. He had to, and he wanted me.
Not only that, but he was also the kind of person who wouldn't give up until he got what he wanted.
But instead of the pure terror that thought should inspire, I felt something else. Something that made my omega nature stir with recognition. Every time I thought of running, my chest ached with a loss I hadn't even experienced yet.
Why was I feeling that way about him? It didn't make sense.
"What is wrong with me?" I muttered, pressing my forehead against the cool glass of my window. The moon was waxing, nearly full, and its light seemed to mock my indecision. Few people outside too, increasing my sense of loneliness.
I pulled out my emergency go-bag—fake IDs, cash, everything I needed to disappear. I'd done it before. I could do it again. But for the first time, the thought of running felt wrong, like trying to go north while my internal compass pointed south.
Was my body fighting against me? Was this what a mate bond felt like? The stories I'd heard as a child spoke of an unbreakable connection, a pull that defied logic and self-preservation. It was something we would recognize when it happened, and I was starting to believe that was the case this time.
But those same stories warned that moon-blessed omegas had to be especially careful—our powers could create false bonds, could be manipulated by those who sought to control us.
And yet...
The way Zoren had looked at me, like he saw past every defense to who I really was. The jolt of energy when he touched me wasn't just magic recognizing magic—it was something deeper, beyond what made me the person I was. My barriers had wavered not because they were weak, but because part of me wanted him to see through them.
I had always wondered what it would be like if someone could finally break me out of my shell. Was Zoren really that person? I was hoping he was, even though it would change my life completely.
"This is insane," I told my reflection in the window. "He's dangerous. His whole organization is dangerous. Why are you doing this to me?" But even as I said it, another part of me whispered: Maybe that's exactly what you need. Someone strong enough to stand beside you instead of trying to cage you. It's different, isn't it?
I touched the crescent mark behind my ear, feeling its steady warmth. The moon's blessing had always been both a gift and a burden, forcing me to run, to hide, to deny who I was. But what if there was another way? What if there was something I could do that was different from everything I had already done?
A memory surfaced—my grandmother's soothing voice, telling me stories of our ancestors. "Moon-blessed omegas were once revered," she'd said. "They stood as equals beside their alphas, their combined power protecting entire packs." Before the wars, before we became prizes to be hunted and claimed.
Could that be possible again? But then, I thought that it couldn't be. Why would it be so different with me this time? What changed? And then, I answered myself: nothing changed. Everything was still the same.
My pocket buzzed. A message from Mae came through, as if she could read my mind. It felt like she was right there with me, able to see my struggle. That was one of the reasons she was my friend.
Look, I don't know what's going on, but there is something important I have to tell you. It may sound cheesy, but here goes.
Whatever you're thinking of doing, remember—strength isn't always about who can fight hardest. Sometimes it's about who can stand their ground longest.
I sank onto my bed, the go-bag still untouched beside me. Running had kept me alive, but it hadn't let me live. Every new town, every fake name, every lie to build new relationships—they were stones around my neck, drowning who I really was, and I wanted to get rid of them.
And now there was this pull toward Zoren, this maddening attraction that felt like destiny and danger wrapped into one. If he was my true mate, running wouldn't end the connection. It would just prolong the inevitable.
Plus, I knew I'd still be thinking about him even after running away from here.
The smart thing would be to disappear tonight, use the new moon's dark sky as cover. But for the first time in years, I wanted to be reckless. I wanted to stop running from who I was, from what I could be. I wanted to see what was the worst that could happen.
I thought about how it felt when Zoren's power had met mine—not dominating, but complementing. Like two pieces of a long-forgotten puzzle finally finding their match. The Nightshade Wolves might want to own me, but Zoren... what did he want?
Could it be that he genuinely wanted what was best for me? A part of me believed that it was possible, but my mind wasn't convinced.
Standing, I moved to my small altar—crystals, herbs, and a silver bowl of water for scrying. I hadn't dared use my full powers in so long, always careful to dampen them, to hide their true extent. But now... My mind had just changed about that.
I let my magic rise, just a little, feeling it sing through my blood. The water in the bowl rippled, showing me glimpses—the SUVs outside, the men watching my building, and in his office across town, Zoren looking at my picture, his expression not predatory but... searching. Longing. What was he thinking? I couldn't help but wonder.
The sight made my heart stutter. This wasn't just a hunt for him either. He felt it too.
If he were right here with me, would he admit it?
Dawn was breaking when I made my decision. Hours passed, and I didn't even realize it until it was almost too late.
I wouldn't run this time, but I wouldn't surrender either. If Zoren wanted me, he would have to prove he was worthy of not just my power, but my trust. And if the Nightshade Wolves thought they could simply collect me like another magical artifact, they would learn why moon-blessed omegas were both revered and feared.
There was only one of me, but I wasn't going to be afraid. Not anymore. Not ever again.
I touched my birthmark again, feeling it pulse under my fingers. For the first time in years, I smiled at its warmth instead of fearing it. The moon was growing full, my power was rising, and instead of running from it, I would embrace it. This time, it was going to be different.
Let them watch. Let them wonder. Let them try to understand what they were really dealing with. I wasn't just some prize to be won—I was a force of nature waiting to be unleashed.
And if Zoren truly was my mate, he would have to prove he could handle that power. Not control it, but stand beside it as an equal. The thought sent a thrill through me that was part challenge, part anticipation.
It was as though my body was rewarding me for finally doing the right thing, as though I had been lying to myself this entire time.
And the biggest difference this time was that I was going to set the rules.