The next thing that happened was that Rachel’s feet were lifted off the ground before she even realized it and her soul almost sifted out from her. Nothing she could do was pound her fist into Dylan's back, slamming it as hard as she could while her vision swayed as he began to walk forward. She was about to walk away, turn her back on him, and be on her own path, yet this giant of a wolf man is persistent and won't be taking no for an answer. “Damn you, Dylan! Put me down!” She yelled, continuing to rain down her fist on his back. Hence Dylan seems to be unfazed by it and only releases a deep chuckle from his chest that causes his shoulders to quiver in response, jerking her along with the movement. “Didn't I tell you, either you are with me or I'll carry your ass back to my car...You opted for the latter.” He chuckled as he spanked her bottoms with his enormous hands, completely taking her by surprise. “Hey! Why would you do that?” She sneered, arching her back by pushing her
They have arrived in the mansion. Rachel was surprised that Dylan had taken her directly in his place rather than to hers. She looks about like a fish out of water, her eyes big as saucers as she marvels at the place. The incredible lighting fixtures reflected on her eyes. She also noticed that despite the extravagance, its modern touches, the tall, wide, and shiny panes that would welcome and greet the morning ray of sun every day. The coral white painted rock walls, with their colors seasoned by time, seemed to belong exactly where they were, as if they had sprouted directly from the hallowed earth itself. It appears that the mansion was constructed before her great grandparents were even born. Dylan admitted his age to her, and it won’t be surprising that he had this place constructed centuries ago. For a fleeting moment, she even wondered if this place could also be considered as hunted as well, just like she had seen on a most old house that was built before the war. What was
It was already too late for her to take back the words she had said as Dylan didn’t squander any second to pass on and shut the space among them and slammed his mouth on hers. Gradually, enthusiastically kissing her. The low snarl from his throat debilitated her knees and caused her to depend entirely on his strength so that she would not collapse on the floor. Not that she minds at all. Finally, Rachel let go of all of her apprehensions, her worry, and forgot everything that was holding her down, and kissed him back. The time seems to slow down around them. The world began to slip away. So unexpected, yet deep down, she knew this was going to happen. So hot. The heat of his touch burned through her body like a fire on her flesh, scorching her skin. So perfect. He was perfect. Their mouths were flawlessly formed against one other as if they had been created perfectly by the sky above. Rachel has never received a kiss like this before in her life. She had no idea what to ant
The taste of his lips lingered on hers long after they parted, and though the intensity of the moment had simmered, the fire between them remained untamed, glowing beneath the surface like embers waiting to reignite.Rachel sat at the edge of Dylan’s massive bed, legs dangling, her fingers knotted on her lap. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her body, the press of his firm chest, the way his breath had hitched as he fought against the beast within. The silence in the room was not empty—it was filled with unspoken thoughts, rapid heartbeats, and the weight of a connection neither of them could fully explain.Dylan stood a few feet away, shirtless, chest still rising and falling with effort. His eyes—now back to their usual sharp sapphire hue—were fixed on her, searching her face like it held all the answers he’d been looking for since the day his world crumbled in flames.“Are you okay?” he asked softly, voice raspier than usual.Rachel looked up and gave a small nod. “
Dylan knew something was wrong the moment his phone buzzed in his pocket. He had just stepped out of a shareholder video call when the device vibrated against his thigh with a ping that set his instincts on high alert. He pulled it out and saw a message—not from Rachel, not from Grace, and not from any of his staff. It was from one of his private surveillance agents positioned near the coffee shop.**“Unidentified female—possible supernatural. Engaged brief interaction with subject Dockham. Leaving scene now.”**Dylan’s jaw locked.It had only been a day.A single day since Rachel accepted him.And already, something—or someone—had caught her scent.He didn't hesitate. He called the underground garage, ordered the car, and was out of the building in less than two minutes.---At the café, Rachel tried to shake off the cold dread left in the woman’s wake, but it clung to her skin like the chill of a ghost's breath. She wiped her damp palms on her apron and tried to resume her task, but
Rachel stood by the tall glass window of Dylan’s penthouse, arms wrapped around herself as she stared down at the glittering lights of Bunga City. The night buzzed below like an unspoken warning. But all she could think about was the woman in crimson—the way she looked at her, the chill in her words.“You smell… interesting.”Even now, the memory sent goosebumps racing across her arms. It wasn’t just what she said. It was how she said it. As if Rachel wasn’t a person, but prey. Something to be claimed… or consumed.The sound of Dylan’s voice broke her thoughts. He was on the phone in the next room, his tone clipped, measured. Protective. Since bringing her back, he hadn’t let her out of his sight.“No. I don’t care if the Council demands an answer,” he growled. “If they want a report, they can come to me directly. I’m not leaving her unguarded.”A pause.“Triple the security. I want one team on the perimeter, one in the shadows, and a third monitoring every magical ripple within a ten
“You’re telling me I’m some kind of magical bloodline?” Rachel asked, pacing the room in a circle, her voice rising. “That I’m… Elira?” Dylan stood at the center of the room, shirtless, bruised from the earlier impact. “I didn’t know,” he said evenly. “I swear.” “You didn’t *know*?” She spun on him. “You’ve been alive for centuries, Dylan! You know things no one else does. You can’t tell me that name means nothing.” “I told you,” he said, jaw tight, “Elira is a name from the old world. The Moon’s chosen. A line of women who could bind the supernatural with just a whisper. But they were wiped out. Hunted.” Rachel’s eyes widened. “Hunted… why?” “They were too powerful. The Council saw them as a threat. Some say they sided with the darkness. Others believe they were protectors. Either way, both sides feared them.” “And you never thought—never *felt*—that maybe I was—” “No,” he said, stepping forward. “When I met you, all I felt was the mate bond. That’s it.” She stared at
Stacy crept around the side of the rusted warehouse, hoodie up, breath shallow. The tracking app on her phone blinked steadily. Dylan was inside. But why? He told her this place had been shut down. She slid closer, boots crunching lightly on gravel, and pressed herself against the side door. Faint voices filtered through the metal. She tilted her head. “Is it confirmed?” a deep voice said. “Not yet,” came Dylan’s voice. “But she’s showing signs.” Stacy frowned. “You’re sure she’s the one?” “Yes,” Dylan replied. “The woman in crimson marked her.” Stacy’s eyes narrowed. Rachel? They were talking about Rachel. “She’s dangerous, Dylan,” the other man said. “She’s not,” Dylan shot back. “She’s Elira’s blood.” Stacy gasped. Elira? She backed away quietly, but her elbow brushed against a hanging chain. It clanked loudly. Inside, the voices went silent. Dylan’s voice rose. “Someone’s outside.” Panic surged. Stacy bolted, running for the tree line. A second
Rachel stood before the floor-length mirror in her bedroom, staring at her reflection—not for vanity, but to make sure she still recognized the face staring back. Her eyes no longer flashed silver. Her aura no longer surged uncontrollably. The storm within had stilled, but that quiet carried its own kind of warning.She pressed a palm to her chest. The bond that once strained her soul felt like a scar now—healed but never forgotten. She wasn’t Elira. But Elira was now, undeniably, a part of her.A soft knock on the door broke the silence.“It’s open,” she called.Stacy entered, holding a tray with toast and Nyra’s herbal tea. “If you skip another meal, Dylan’s gonna drag you to the kitchen himself.”Rachel gave a soft smile. “Thanks.”Stacy set the tray down and sat on the edge of the bed. “So… you really feel normal again?”Rachel paused. “I feel different. But not unstable.”Stacy studied her carefully. “What does that mean?”“It means I feel like me. Just... upgraded.” She gave a s
The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself. Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence. For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind. And yet, not. ere You’re different,” Stacy said, standing in the doorway. “Even your posture. It’s like you’re still you, but... more.” Rachel opened her eyes slowly. “Because I am.” Stacy walked in, barefoot, cautious. “You said you chose both. What does that mean?” Rachel looked up, meeting her gaze. “It means I didn’t destroy Elira. I accepted her.” “You *what*?” “She’s not whispering in my head anymore. She’s part of me. Not separate.” Stacy sat down across from her. “That sounds... dangerous.” “It is,” Rachel admitted. “But d
The air was still. Heavy. The kind of silence that pressed against your eardrums, stretching time itself.Rachel sat at the edge of the ritual circle, the same one that had nearly torn her apart hours earlier. Her legs were folded, spine straight, palms resting against her knees. Her breathing was steady now. No silver light. No flickers of power. No whispers from Elira. Just silence.For the first time in weeks, she felt... alone in her own mind.And yet, not.ere You’re different,” Stacy said, standing in the doorway. “Even your posture. It’s like you’re still you, but... more.”Rachel opened her eyes slowly. “Because I am.”Stacy walked in, barefoot, cautious. “You said you chose both. What does that mean?”Rachel looked up, meeting her gaze. “It means I didn’t destroy Elira. I accepted her.”“You *what*?”“She’s not whispering in my head anymore. She’s part of me. Not separate.”Stacy sat down across from her. “That sounds... dangerous.”“It is,” Rachel admitted. “But denying her
The wind outside the penthouse howled like something ancient had awakened. The eclipse was a few hours away. The sky had already begun its transformation—its deep blue turning pale gray, clouds crawling like shadows ready to devour the sun. Inside, the wards pulsed steadily, glowing brighter than usual, reacting to the shift in the air.Rachel sat at the dining table, staring at the untouched tea Nyra had made for her. She hadn’t spoken since waking. Not to Dylan. Not to Stacy. The conversation with Elira echoed in her skull like a warning bell she couldn’t silence.Only one of us survives.She didn’t know what that meant—not really. But every time she blinked, she saw Elira’s face burned into the backs of her eyelids, watched her vanish into cracked sky, felt the weight of a promise she hadn’t made.Stacy sat across from her, arms folded over a book, watching. Not reading. Just there. Waiting.“I don’t like this,” Stacy said quietly.Rachel didn’t respond.Stacy tapped the book once.
Rachel watched the horizon from the balcony, the last hint of dusk melting into darkness. The city sparkled far below, distant and untouched by the chaos that stirred in her veins.Inside her chest, two truths warred for dominance: the Warden’s calm confession and Elira’s searing rage.She still didn’t know which one to trust.The door behind her opened. She didn’t have to look.“You haven’t spoken since the vision,” Dylan said.Rachel nodded, but said nothing.He stepped beside her. “Say something.”“I’m trying to make sense of it.”“Of what? That the Warden didn’t throw her into the fire, she *asked* for it?”She turned toward him. “Would you believe me if I said I understand?”His eyes narrowed. “Understand what?”“The desire to give up before losing control.”Silence fell between them.Dylan’s jaw tightened. “Don’t ever say that again.”“I’m not giving up. I’m saying… I get it now. The pressure. The weight. Elira was breaking, and no one listened. Not until it was too late.”“You
Rachel stood under the freezing shower, water crashing against her skin, but it did nothing to quiet the storm inside. Her fingers had stopped glowing, but the sensation lingered—like Elira’s presence was still coiled around her spine, watching her every move.She braced her hands against the tiled wall, breathing heavily, letting the cold slice through her thoughts.She could still hear Elira’s voice.*“Too late.”*Dylan waited outside the bathroom door. He hadn't said a word since they’d rushed her out of the circle. Nyra had wanted to run a full energy purge. Rachel refused. She didn’t want to be cleansed. She wanted to understand.The water turned off. Moments later, the door opened, steam spilling into the hallway. Rachel stepped out, towel around her shoulders, her expression unreadable.“She’s not a voice anymore,” she said. “She’s a presence. A force.”Dylan nodded slowly. “She’s merging.”“No. She’s *moving.* She’s done waiting for me to break.”“Then we stop her.”Rachel lea
Rachel didn’t sleep.She lay on the cold marble floor of the training room, eyes open, watching the rune marks pulse faintly in the dark. The moment her eyes flickered silver, something inside her had shifted. She could feel it—quiet, subtle, but alive. Like another presence pressed just behind her thoughts.Dylan found her an hour before sunrise.“You didn’t come back to bed.”She didn’t look at him. “I didn’t want to risk it.”He walked to her, crouched down, resting his elbows on his knees. “You’ve been quiet since the flare.”Rachel finally sat up, brushing her hair back. “Because I felt her. Not just her memories. Her voice.”Dylan’s eyes narrowed. “She spoke?”Rachel nodded. “She said my name. Not Elira. Mine. She said, Rachel, don’t fight me.”His jaw tightened. “That’s new.”“No,” she said. “That’s a warning.”Dylan didn’t speak for a long moment.“I need to accelerate the training,” she said.“You’re already pushing your limits.”She looked at him. “Not fast enough.”“I won’t
Rachel stared at him. The Warden of Ash. Cloaked in dark gold, unmoving beneath the red-hazed sky. “You ordered her execution?” Her voice echoed unnaturally. “You watched her burn.” He didn’t flinch. “Yes.” “Why?” “She became a threat.” “You were supposed to protect her,” she snapped. “I was supposed to protect *balance*,” he replied calmly. “Elira disrupted it.” “She was fighting for peace.” “She was choosing annihilation.” Rachel’s hands balled into fists. “She was betrayed. Lied to. Cornered.” “And she made a choice,” he said. “One that endangered every realm tied to the moon’s gift.” She stepped closer. “And now I carry her soul. What does that make me to you?” The Warden looked her in the eye. “A warning.” “To who?” He tilted his head. “To everyone who still believes power and peace can coexist.” Rachel's jaw tightened. “You're scared of what I might become.” “I’m not scared,” he said. “But I am prepared.” “For what?” “To stop you if history rep
Rachel gripped the edge of the table, her knuckles pale against the wood. “She wasn’t alone.”Dylan raised an eyebrow, his gaze sharp. “You mean at the execution?”Rachel nodded slowly. “Someone was there. A man. Tall. Cloaked in gold and black. He stood behind the crowd. He never moved. Just… watched.”Nyra leaned forward, her brow furrowed. “The Executioner?”“No,” Rachel said firmly. “She didn’t fear him. She looked right at him. Not with fear. With *recognition*. She *knew* him. Right before the flames reached her, she found him in the crowd.”“What did she say?” Dylan asked, his voice barely above a whisper.Rachel's throat tightened, but she forced the words out. “She whispered… ‘You were supposed to protect me.’”Dylan’s jaw clenched, and his fists tightened at his sides. “Who the hell was he?”“I don’t know,” Rachel said, voice quiet. “But I’ve seen his eyes before. Not in the memory. Recently.”Nyra froze. “Describe them.”Rachel met her gaze, the image burned into her mind.