The vehicle came to a stop in a secluded clearing, surrounded by trees swaying under the rain and the wind. The sound was a constant murmur, as if the forest were breathing with us—watchful, attentive to every movement. Lysander turned off the engine and remained silent for a few seconds, listening to something I could not perceive.
"There's no one here," he finally said, his voice barely a whisper blending with the drumming rain. "For now, we're safe."
I stared at the forest, unable to understand how a place so calm could feel so threatening. Every shadow seemed to move, every branch to snap under an invisible weight. And I couldn't take my eyes off him. Every tense muscle in his back, every line of his jaw, every glint of silver still glowing beneath his skin spoke of contained violence, of the beast sleeping just beneath the surface.
"How… how can you be so calm?" I asked, my voice trembling. "We just killed… they killed my cousins. People from my family."
Lysander turned slowly, resting his hands on the hood of the vehicle, his claws barely visible under the moonlight filtered through the rain. His eyes pierced through me—fixed, dense—and yet he seemed to restrain all the fury he could unleash.
"I'm not calm," he said, his voice low but firm. "I'm focused. Blind fury is useless here. Calm keeps us alive."
A shiver ran down my spine. The way he spoke, the way he moved, was not entirely human. Every word was measured, every breath controlled. And yet there was something in his gaze that promised protection, something that told me I could trust him… even if I didn't understand how.
"What are you, Lysander?" I whispered, because the question could not wait any longer. "What I saw… wasn't human. It couldn't be."
He inhaled deeply, and for an instant it felt as though the storm itself paused. His eyes glowed with that amber light I already knew, and his voice came out weighted enough to make me take a step back.
"Not completely. Not entirely human. I am… what remains when the pack dies and no one can claim you. I am what they call an Alpha. I am what you fear—and what you cannot forget."
My stomach twisted. Each word struck like a blow, like a secret I was destined to learn. I wanted to ask more, but a distant sound stopped me. A branch cracked, and my body reacted before my mind did.
"Don't move," he said, his claws flexing, the tension in his muscles ready to explode. "We don't know who's following us."
Fear became physical. My hands were slick with sweat, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might tear out of my chest. And yet something kept me close to him, something told me I was safe, even while reality screamed the opposite.
"You need to rest," Lysander said after a few seconds that felt like entire lifetimes. "You won't survive if you keep running without pause."
I nodded, though my legs trembled, unable to find solid ground. He crouched and gently lifted me into his arms. There was no violence in his touch—only a warmth that wrapped around me, strange and comforting at the same time. Each beat of his heart seemed to synchronize with mine, and for a moment I forgot the rain, the fear, the blood.
"This is only beginning," he murmured into my ear. "And you… you are the piece everyone wants to control. But as long as I'm with you, no one will touch you without paying the price."
I didn't know what to say. Fear was still there, pulsing, reminding me that reality was cruel—but something in his presence, in his voice, made me understand that choosing to flee with him had been the right decision. At least for now.
The forest seemed to hold its breath as we moved deeper into the darkness, toward a place I did not know, toward secrets I did not yet dare imagine. And with every step, the certainty that nothing would ever be the same settled into my chest.
"Tell me your real name," I whispered as we walked, not looking at him, only feeling the strength that radiated from him.
"Lysander Vólkov," he said softly. "And you, Zoe… you are more dangerous than you think. Even to me."
My fingers tightened around his arm, searching for support, for safety in a world that offered none. The Alpha had saved me, and now my fate was bound to his. I wanted to run, yes—but I also knew that as long as he was with me, fear could turn into something that… maybe… I could endure.
We reached the refuge when the night felt denser than ever. An old, ruined villa hidden among hills and surrounded by trees creaking in the wind rose before us like a silent witness to secrets no one should know. The rain had stopped, leaving a cold, damp air that seeped into my bones, yet made me feel… inexplicably safe.
Lysander opened the door with an old, rusted key and gently pushed me inside. The interior was dark, filled with shadows dancing in the light of a couple of lit candles. The smell was a mix of damp wood, old gunpowder, and an indefinable scent that belonged to him.
"Stay here," he said, his voice low, weighted with a tone that demanded obedience. "I'll make sure no one followed us."
I nodded, though my legs trembled and my mind refused to be still. Each step Lysander took away echoed on the wooden floor, and I could feel his presence thinning into the gloom—but never disappearing entirely. It was impossible to ignore him.
Fear surged back with force. Images of the battle in the club—the blood, the gunshots, the sound of my cousins falling—came crashing back into my mind like a physical blow. I shrank against the wall, wrapping my arms around myself, trying to calm a heart that felt like it was about to shatter.
Then I heard a faint creak behind me. I turned—and saw him. Lysander had returned without a sound, his eyes glowing with that amber light that had terrified and fascinated me from the very first moment. His claws were retracted, but the tension in his body spoke of the beast sleeping beneath the surface.
"Zara," he said, approaching slowly. "I know you're afraid. And I don't intend to take that away. Not now."
"It's not… not just fear," I whispered, unable to look directly into his eyes. "It's also… confusion. And I don't know what to do with all of this."
He crouched to my level, not invading my space—just watching me with a calm that seemed impossible for someone who had just torn through armed men with a single movement.
"There's nothing you can do yet," he said. "What's coming is bigger than you imagine, and you'll have to learn to trust me. Not because you must, but because… there is no other option."
My chest tightened. The sincerity in his voice cut through me, and for a moment I felt like I could fall into his arms and let him carry all this chaos for me. And yet part of me screamed that nothing was safe, that trusting him meant letting fate drag me into something I would never be able to control.
"What are you, really?" I asked, my voice broken but determined to get an answer this time.
He sighed—a low sound, almost a restrained growl—and for the first time he looked at me with a mixture of respect and warning.
"I am Lysander Vólkov," he said. "An Alpha. A beast. A man who no longer belongs to any world. And now, somehow, a part of me is bound to you."
I didn't know how to respond. I just watched him as he sat near the window, observing the darkness outside, vigilant as always. The danger was still out there, but for the first time in hours, I felt a moment of truce—a breath between storms.
"And if I don't want to be bound to anything or anyone?" I whispered, my voice barely audible.
He smiled—that slow, dangerous smile I had seen before—and leaned toward me.
"Then you'll have to learn that some chains don't break, Zoe," he said softly. "They are only accepted… or transformed into strength."
A shiver ran down my spine, and I knew my choices were no longer mine alone. The night, the blood, and Lysander had changed everything. And as the rain began again outside, I understood that my life would never be the same.