Lucien POV
The drive back to the manor felt like hell.
I could still smell her sweet, defiant, terrified clinging to my clothes, my skin, my veins. Every breath I took tasted like her name.
Ariana.
It wasn't supposed to happen this way.
I'd spent centuries mastering control, suppressing every primal instinct that came with the bloodline curse. I'd buried my hunger under duty, under rage, under endless restraint.
But one look from her and I was undone.
She had looked at both of us me and Lysander and I'd seen it.
Recognition.
The mark glowing beneath her collar, responding to both our scents.
The curse wasn't just a story.
It was alive. It was waking. And it wanted her.
I gripped the steering wheel until the leather tore beneath my claws. The world outside blurred into streaks of light and rain. My pulse roared in my ears.
"She's mine," I growled under my breath.
But even as I said it, the echo came faint, mocking, and identical.
Ours.
Lysander's voice slid through my thoughts like poison. I slammed the brakes, the car screeching to a halt on the empty mountain road. The forest loomed around me, dark and alive. I could feel him my brother his presence threading through my mind like smoke.
You can't fight me forever, Lucien.
"Get out of my head."
You felt it too. She's not meant for one. You know what happens when the bond rejects balance.
My hands trembled. "If you go near her again"
What will you do, brother? Kill me? You'd die with me. You forget we share the same curse, the same heart.
I slammed my palm against the steering wheel. The horn blared into the storm, but it didn't drown out the truth.
Lysander was right.
He always was.
If one twin claimed the mate alone, the bond would rot from within — and destroy all three of them. The curse demanded unity… and punished defiance.
But I didn't give a damn about curses.
I wasn't sharing her. Not with him. Not ever.
I restarted the car and drove hard, the tires spitting mud and gravel behind me. The mansion rose out of the mist like a beast with its jaw open, waiting.
Inside, the air was thick charged. Lysander was there, of course, sprawled in one of the velvet chairs by the fireplace, wine in hand, amusement in his golden eyes.
"You lost your temper," he said lazily.
I stalked toward him. "You touched her."
"She didn't seem to mind."
"Don't lie to yourself."
He tilted his head. "I don't have to lie. I saw it, Lucien. The way she looked at me the way her pulse raced. The bond doesn't lie either."
"She's confused."
He smiled slowly. "No. She's connected. To both of us."
The flames from the hearth flickered across his face, painting shadows that looked too much like prophecy. "You can't deny it forever, brother. If you do, she'll break."
"I'll protect her from this," I said.
"Protect her from us? You can't. You are the danger.
That earned him a fist to the jaw. He stumbled back, blood at the corner of his mouth — but instead of anger, he laughed.
"Violence won't change what she is to us."
"I'll find a way," I hissed.
Lysander's grin faded. "That's what Father said."
His words froze me. The room went still, the fire crackling softly between us.
Father.
The last generation's twin Alpha. The one who defied the curse.
The one who destroyed their mate trying to separate the bond.
"You remember what happened to Mother," Lysander said quietly. "You remember her screams."
"Enough," I snapped, voice low, shaking.
He turned away. "You're repeating history."
"Not this time."
But even as I said it, the air shifted that faint pulse of power humming under my skin. The mark on Ariana's body had awakened something in me… something ancient. My wolf stirred restlessly, hungry.
It wanted to find her. To claim her.
To end this war.
By nightfall, I couldn't fight it anymore.
I left the manor, ignoring Lysander's knowing stare as I passed. The rain had started again, soft and relentless. The streets glistened with reflections of streetlights and sin. Every instinct screamed for me to stay away. Every breath dragged me closer.
By the time I reached her building, I'd already lost.
Her apartment was on the third floor. I could hear her heartbeat through the wall — steady but uneasy, like she'd been running from nightmares.
I shouldn't have been there.
I knew that.
But the bond didn't care about rules.
I stepped inside through the unlocked balcony door, silent as a shadow. Her scent hit me instantly — warm, human, threaded with fear and something softer. Something mine.
She was asleep, curled beneath thin sheets, her hair spilling across the pillow like dark silk. Moonlight kissed her face, turning her skin silver.
For a moment, I just watched her.
The steady rise and fall of her chest. The faint sound of her breathing. The crescent mark glimmering faintly at her throat.
I reached out stopped just before touching her.
My hand trembled.
If I woke her now, I'd never walk away again.
But the mark pulsed between us, a living thing. I could feel it calling to me, binding us in invisible threads that burned hotter than fire.
She stirred, whispering something in her sleep.
"Lucien…"
My chest tightened.
She was dreaming of me.
I leaned down, unable to stop myself, my lips jus
t inches from hers. Her breath mingled with mine — warm, quick, unaware.
"I told you I was a warning," I murmured. "You should've listened."