The Wild Beyond the Gates
The forest stretched for miles, endless and ancient, its canopy painted in silver and shadow.Ryan Azaron Steel moved through it like a ghost — silent, precise, driven by something primal that no crown could restrain.
The further he went from Lycanthra, the easier it became to breathe. Or so he thought.
For days, he had hunted through the northern wilds, seeking distraction in the blood of beasts and the chill of moonlight. But even here — where no walls confined him, where no court whispered of his choices — he could not escape her.
Every scent, every sound, every heartbeat of the earth seemed to echo her name.Isabella.
His wolf prowled beneath his skin, restless and wild. The bond between them pulsed like a wound that refused to close.
You feel it too, the wolf murmured, its voice low and mocking inside his head. The ache. The hunger.
"Enough," Ryan growled aloud, dragging his claws through the bark of an oak. "I left her there for a reason."
Yes, the wolf mused darkly. Because you were afraid. Of her. Of yourself.
Ryan's eyes flashed gold in the moonlight. "I am afraid of nothing."
The wolf laughed — a sound of teeth and wind. Then why do you run?
Ryan said nothing.
Because somewhere deep inside, he knew the truth.He wasn't running from her.He was running from what she awakened in him — something raw, ancient, and dangerously close to surrender.
The Moonfire Hunt
That night, under the pale fire of the full moon, he hunted.
Not for food.For control.
The beasts of the northern reaches were not ordinary prey — moon-touched creatures that glowed faintly under starlight, half spirit, half flesh. He tore through the wilderness with savage grace, his claws sinking into fur and bone, his body moving with the rhythm of a predator that had forgotten the shape of a man.
When it was over, he stood alone in the clearing, chest heaving, blood steaming in the cold air. The ground was slick with silver gore. His wolf was silent now, watching from the depths of his soul.
You can't kill the hunger, it whispered. It isn't for blood.
Ryan's hand tightened around the hilt of his dagger. "Then what?"
It's for her.
He snarled, throwing the blade into the ground. "She is a vampire. My enemy."
She is your mate.
The words hung in the air like a curse.
He sank to his knees, hands gripping the earth as the bond flared through him — not just warmth, but agony. A pulse, sharp and undeniable, that throbbed beneath his skin.He could feel her — the rhythm of her heartbeat, the soft draw of her breath, the faint flicker of her thoughts when she dreamed.
And beneath it all… longing.She missed him.
That truth tore through him like fire.
She's stronger than you think, the wolf murmured. While you run from her, she walks among your kind — winning them over one by one.
Ryan's jaw clenched. "Let them follow her. It changes nothing."
You lie to yourself well, Alpha, the wolf replied, amused. But tell me — when you sleep, whose name does your heart call for?
Ryan didn't answer. He didn't need to.
Dreams of Blood and Fire
That night, he dreamt of her.
He stood in the great hall of Lycanthra — but it was different. The walls burned with moonfire, the air thick with smoke and the scent of roses and ash. Isabella stood at the far end, cloaked in crimson, her eyes glowing like twin stars.
"Do you hate me that much?" she asked.
He tried to speak, but no words came.
She stepped closer, her voice a whisper of silk and steel. "You can't run from what's written in your blood, Ryan."
Her hand brushed his chest, and fire raced through him. The bond surged, wrapping around them like chains of molten light.He wanted to pull away — but his body betrayed him.His hands found her waist, his lips hovered inches from hers, and for a single, shattering heartbeat, the world burned.
When he woke, he was drenched in sweat, his pulse a thunder beneath his skin.
The wolf was laughing again. Still think you can fight it?
Ryan rose, shaking. "I will."
You already lost.
The Pull of the Bond
Days turned into weeks, and the forest began to change.
The snow melted faster beneath his feet. The wind carried her scent even here — faint, distant, but there. He could feel her emotions through the bond now: flashes of laughter, moments of quiet strength, the way her power was growing like a storm beneath her calm surface.
And worse — she wasn't afraid anymore.
Isabella Reon was learning how to rule wolves.
That truth dug into him deeper than any claw. Because with every heartbeat, every whisper from his court, her name grew heavier in the air.
His wolf taunted him without mercy.
You thought keeping distance would free you. Instead, it made her stronger.
Ryan's golden eyes narrowed. "And when I return—"
—you'll find her changed, the wolf finished. And you'll want her more than ever.
He bared his teeth. "She'll destroy me first."
Then she'll make a fine queen, the wolf said simply.
The Moon's Call
On the last night before he turned south again, Ryan stood on the cliff above the Frost Vale, where the stars burned cold and close. Below him, the forests stretched endlessly toward Lycanthra. He could feel the bond tugging — a heartbeat, a whisper, a name.
Isabella.
He had sworn to resist her. To hate her. To use her only as a pawn.
But the moon had other plans.
His wolf stirred again, its voice softer this time. Go home, Ryan.
"I can't," he said.
You already are.
The Alpha King looked toward the horizon — where the faint lights of his kingdom burned in the distance, and somewhere within them, the vampire queen slept beneath his roof.
The wind carried her scent — faint, fragile, undeniable.
And Ryan Azaron Steel, the King of Wolves, finally understood what he had been running from.
Not her.Not the bond.But the part of himself that wanted to kneel before her fire.