The drive was long.
Lucien didn't speak much, but his presence filled the car like a storm barely restrained. Sera sat beside him, her fingers trembling in her lap, eyes fixed on the city as it faded into dense trees, winding roads, and eerie silence. The farther they drove, the more it felt like she was crossing into a place untouched by time.
Or reason.
"This territory of yours," she said finally, breaking the silence. "How far does it stretch?"
Lucien's knuckles tightened around the wheel. "We rule the northern forestline. The pack stays deep in the territory—hidden unless summoned. We only come to the city when necessary."
"So… they don't know you've found your mate?"
"No," Lucien said flatly. "Not yet."
Sera glanced at him. "Why not?"
His jaw clenched. "Because once they know, they'll want to meet you. They'll expect the mark. The bond. The claiming. Everything."
Her skin prickled. "Is that a problem?"
Lucien finally turned to her, eyes burning golden.
"It's only a problem if you're not ready."
Sera didn't respond. The word claiming sat heavy on her chest — dark, electric, and strangely thrilling. She didn't know what it meant, not fully. But her body responded anyway.
Mine. That's what Lucien had said.
And some part of her—maybe the part that had been waiting for something more—wanted to be.
Nightfang Territory
When the car finally rolled to a stop, Sera stepped out into a place that didn't look real.
It was night, and the moonless sky hung black above the trees, but the forest seemed to breathe around them. A series of elegant, modern cabins sat nestled between ancient pines. There were no fences. No lights. Just shadows and silence.
And eyes.
Sera felt them before she saw them.
Figures in the trees. In the shadows. Watching. Waiting.
Lucien stepped to her side and spoke clearly into the dark.
"She's with me."
A low growl echoed from the woods — not aggressive, but primal.
Then a figure stepped forward.
A tall man with hair the color of ink and cold, silver eyes. He was beautiful in a dangerous, unapproachable way.
"Lucien," the man said, voice smooth. "It's been a while."
"Ronan," Lucien nodded once. "Second of the pack. My brother."
Brother?
Sera blinked, but Ronan's eyes had already locked onto her. He inhaled, slowly.
"She smells… human."
"She's my mate."
The air shifted.
Ronan tilted his head. "That's a problem."
Before Sera could react, Ronan stepped forward. Not close enough to touch her — but close enough to make her shiver.
"She hasn't been marked," he said.
"She will be," Lucien answered.
"When?"
Lucien didn't speak.
Ronan smiled — sharp, knowing.
"Be careful, brother. If you wait too long… someone else might decide to challenge your claim."
Later That Night
Sera sat in a cabin Lucien had prepared for her. It was warm, lined with soft furs and flickering firelight. But she didn't feel safe.
She felt watched.
"Will they really challenge you?" she asked as Lucien poured wine.
"They won't win."
"That's not what I asked."
Lucien sat beside her, gaze fixed on the fire.
"Ronan's testing me," he said. "And he's not the only one. Bringing you here means I'm choosing you. That changes everything."
"Including your status?"
"Including everything."
He turned to her then — eyes raw, intense.
"Do you know what happens if someone tries to take you from me, Sera?"
She shook her head.
"I shift," he said darkly. "And I don't stop until there's nothing left."
Her heart pounded. She didn't know whether to be afraid… or turned on.
"But I haven't even decided," she whispered.
Lucien leaned closer. "Yes, you have. The night we met."
Sera's breath hitched. Her body ached with something deeper than lust — it was want, but threaded with fear and fate. She could feel it in her veins. In her bones.
Lucien pressed a kiss to her temple.
"They won't touch you," he whispered. "Not while I breathe."
Beyond the Territory
But someone else had already crossed the border.
The Crimson Fang scout crouched beside the river, his eyes glowing red.
"She's here," he whispered into the wind. "And she's not marked yet."
Behind him, five more shadows emerged.
"She won't live long enough to be."