Chapter 18 #2
Then, a memory surfaced—something my mother had once told me.
She had spoken of the rare and extraordinary mate bonds that could form between royal bloodlines, connections that transcended the usual limitations of our kind.
These bonds were said to be unlike any other, weaving ties that went beyond the ordinary, even beyond the need for traditional rituals.
Even without the formal marking ceremony, our mental link was more acute, more profound than what most werewolf mates could ever experience.
“Got it! I’ll flank it!” I replied, my thoughts swift and focused, darting to the rogue’s left, my claws scraping the earth as I positioned myself for an attack.
Our wolves seemed to instinctively know how to fight in sync—when Perock drew the monster’s attention from the front, I seized the opportunity to strike from the side or rear; when the rogue werewolf turned toward me, Perock would immediately lunge forward, snapping at its hind legs or tail.
This teamwork left the rogue werewolf disoriented, its attacks repeatedly missing their mark, its furious roars echoing through the forest. But soon, we discovered a horrifying truth—its wounds healed almost instantly, and it seemed tireless, its strength growing the longer the fight dragged on.
“It’s enhanced by dark magic.” Perock’s tone grim with realization. “We need a killing blow, or it’ll keep getting stronger until it overpowers us.”
I immediately understood his intent and responded, “I’ll distract it. You look for the chance to land a fatal blow.”
Without waiting for Perock’s agreement, I charged toward the rogue werewolf, moving so fast that I left only a golden blur in my wake.
I was much smaller than Perock, but far more agile, darting around the monster with rapid movements, constantly harassing its flanks and back, making it impossible for it to focus on a single target.
Perock seized the opportunity, waiting for the perfect moment to deliver a lethal strike. Our coordination was seamless, like a precisely choreographed dance—I advanced, he retreated; I retreated, he advanced; I harassed, he struck with force.
But the rogue werewolf seemed to sense our strategy and suddenly shifted its tactics. It no longer attacked aimlessly but focused solely on me—as if I were its true target.
“Careful!” Perock warned through our link, his voice sharp with alarm, leaping onto the rogue’s back to draw its attention, his claws digging into its corrupted hide.
But the rogue ignored him, its gaze locked on me, its massive frame charging with terrifying speed, the ground trembling beneath its weight.
I dodged, my reflexes honed, but it was too fast, its claws arcing toward me in a deadly sweep, the venomous tips glinting in the sunlight.
At the last second, Perock’s silver-gray form slammed into me, knocking me clear, his body absorbing the blow meant for me.
“Perock!” I screamed through our link, horror seizing me as he collapsed, a deep gash torn across his chest, dark blood pooling beneath him, staining the grass.
Black venom glistened on the rogue’s claws—wolfsbane, a poison lethal to werewolves, capable of killing even an Alpha if it reached the heart.
Perock shifted back to human form, his face ashen, his breathing shallow, the wound spreading dark, spiderweb-like veins across his chest, the toxin racing toward his vital organs with relentless speed.
Five years ago, Perock’s first instinct was to protect Sophia, even if it meant leaving me to face danger alone. But now, without a moment’s hesitation, he used his own body to shield me from a fatal blow.
The wolf within me erupted with a rage I had never felt before. A golden energy surged from deep inside, enveloping my entire body. I could feel my strength and speed multiplying, the world before me becoming a swirling mix of gold and red.
I charged at the rogue werewolf, my movements so fast that I was nothing but a streak of golden lightning. My sharp claws sank deep into its flesh, tearing open wound after wound. The monster howled in agony, unable to escape my frenzied assault.
Finally, I aimed for its throat and bit down. Hot blood sprayed out as the rogue werewolf let out one last, piercing wail before collapsing with a thunderous crash. Its body began to disintegrate, turning into a pool of black liquid that seeped into the soil and vanished.
I didn’t have time to dwell on this unnatural phenomenon. I rushed to Perock’s side. He had shifted back to his human form, his face pale as paper, the wound on his chest oozing an ominous black. The poison was spreading rapidly toward his heart.
“Perock!” I choked out, my voice breaking, my hands hovering over him, desperate to act. “Hold on, please, hold on!”
“Lilia…” His voice was faint, barely a whisper, as he lifted a trembling hand, brushing my cheek with a tenderness that shattered me. “You’re… safe. That’s… enough for me.”
His words pierced my heart, and I shook my head, tears falling faster. “Don’t talk,” I urged, my voice shaking as I pressed my hands to his chest, the blood warm and slick beneath my fingers. “Save your strength. I’m not losing you.”
Wolfsbane was a death sentence for werewolves, spreading too fast to stop unless drawn out before it reached the heart—a dangerous process that risked poisoning the rescuer through contact with the tainted blood.
But I had another way, a gift I’d honed under my mother’s tutelage, a power that could defy even this curse.
“No… it’s too dangerous…” Perock rasped, his hand weakly grasping my wrist, mistaking my intent for the traditional method, his eyes clouded with pain but sharp with concern.
“Trust me,” I whispered, meeting his fading gaze, my voice steady despite the fear clawing at my heart.
I took a deep breath, summoning the healing magic within me. A warm energy surged from my core, flowing through my veins to my fingertips. Golden light blossomed from my palms, seeping directly into Perock’s wound.
This time, my healing magic was stronger than ever before. Perhaps it was because the one I was saving was him, or perhaps it was due to the unique bond between fated mates. The power flowed endlessly from within me.
Under the influence of this miraculous energy, the rogue wolf venom began to break down, dissipating from Perock’s bloodstream.
His wound healed at a visible rate, his skin becoming smooth once more.
At the same time, the mental connection between us deepened.
I could feel his loneliness, regret, and longing from the past five years, and he could sense my pain, growth, and inner strength.
When the last trace of poison was purged and Perock’s wound had fully closed, we were both immersed in this unprecedented, intimate connection.
I looked up, meeting his gaze, and in that moment, words felt unnecessary.
I don’t know who moved first—perhaps it was both of us—but when our lips met, it was inevitable, a spark that ignited a wildfire.
Five years of separation, of aching need, of longing suppressed by pain and duty, erupted in that kiss, fierce and consuming, a desperate hunger to reclaim what we’d lost. It was raw, unguarded, filled with a passion that burned away the years, drawing us back to the days when we’d been each other’s world.
Perock’s hands found my waist, pulling me closer, his fingers firm yet reverent, his heartbeat pounding against my chest, matching its rhythm as our bond deepened, amplifying every sensation.
My hands slid up his shoulders, tangling in his hair, anchoring myself to him as the world faded away, leaving only the meadow, the grass, the warmth of his touch.
We sank to the soft earth, our bodies entwined, the wildflowers cushioning us as we surrendered.
His breath was hot against my skin, his lips trailing along my jaw, my neck, each touch igniting a current that sent shivers through me, my body responding with a need I couldn’t deny.
“Lilia, my Lilia,” he murmured against my ear, his voice low and rough, trembling with emotion.
“I love you. I never stopped loving you.”
His words nearly shattered my last defenses, a confession so raw it threatened to sweep me away, to drown me in the tide of our shared desire. His hands roamed my back, his touch both gentle and urgent, stirring a heat that made my breath catch, my heart race.
But as his fingers grazed my waist, sliding along the curve of my skin with a tenderness that sent my pulse skyrocketing, a single thought pierced the haze of passion—Anna.
If I gave in, if I let this bond consume us, what would it mean for her?
A new beginning, yes—a father in her life, a family we could build together.
But it also meant placing my trust in Perock completely, entrusting our future, Anna’s safety, to a man whose past had broken me.
And then, like a shadow, the memory of his curse surfaced—the whispered tales of how he could break it, the dark possibility that a child’s life could be the key to his salvation.
The thought was a cold shock, snapping me back to the cruel reality.
“No,” I said, my voice trembling as I pressed my palms against his chest, gently pushing him away, my breath ragged as I fought to regain control. “We can’t do this.”
Perock froze, his eyes searching mine, confusion and concern flickering across his face, though he immediately pulled back, giving me the space I needed. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft, laced with worry, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to comfort or retreat.
“Everything is happening too fast.” I said, my voice low, shaking as I struggled to steady my emotions, to rein in the part of me that still yearned for him. “I’m not… I’m not ready for this, Perock. Not yet.”
He studied me, his gaze deep and searching, then nodded slowly, his expression softening with understanding, though a trace of disappointment lingered in his eyes.
“I understand,” he said, his voice gentle, steady, a promise in itself.
“I won’t push you, Lilia. I’ll never force you into anything you’re not ready for. ”
He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek with a touch so light it ached, a gesture filled with love and restraint.
“I’ll wait,” he said, his amber eyes warm with unwavering resolve.
“As long as it takes, I’ll wait. You’re worth every moment, every year, my lifetime it takes to prove I’m worthy of your trust.”
I looked into his eyes, the amber depths glowing with sincerity, with a love that made my chest tighten, and yet my fears held firm. My defenses, shattered by the battle, by his sacrifice, by the kiss that had rekindled everything, were rebuilding, brick by fragile brick.
Could I trust him? Could I truly believe his love was real, that Anna wasn’t just a piece in his desperate game to break the curse?
I knew the hardest choice was yet to come—to decide whether I could risk my soul, and my daughter’s life, on the man who’d once been my everything, and shattered me five years ago.