Chapter 13- Cornered

Veyron

Veyron swept through the familiar halls, lit by flickering sconces. His heavy steps echoed the thoughts he struggled to organize. The council was concerned with unpredicted changes all around the territory. 

Scorpions venturing further than they ever had. Patrols returned wounded, the varying venoms claiming lives. Some never came back. But they weren’t the only casualties. The pack wars also plagued the edges of his territory.

“You’re wasting time,” Eryx rumbled in his mind, interrupting his thoughts. “Let the council debate themselves into oblivion. Can’t you smell her?”

Veyron’s jaw tightened. He ignored the wolf, trying to redirect his thoughts. His generals demanded answers, and patience was running thin.

“We can’t be distracted.” Eryx sneered. “There’s too much on our shoulders.”

Veyron’s stride faltered, his boots scuffing. He glanced toward a passing torch as if the flame might burn clarity through the chaos.

“Then let’s get her out of our system,” Veyron muttered under his breath.

“You know it’s not that simple.” Eryx’s growl deepened, a primal edge creeping into his voice. “You felt it the second she crossed our path. She is our mate. You can lie to yourself, but not to me.”

Veyron shook his head, cursing softly. “I have wars to win. Borders to secure. This isn’t the time.”

“There is no ‘time,’” Eryx snapped, a mocking edge creeping into his growl. “You hesitate, and someone else will take what’s ours.”

Veyron’s teeth clenched. He hated how the wolf’s words wormed into his mind, turning logic into noise. The air shifted, warm and carrying her scent and the scent of her fear. 

His blood roared. He knew he was imposing and that his demand to lock her away was insensitive, ruled by the instinct to possess and protect. But she shouldn’t be afraid of him.

He didn’t know her. But he felt the bond like a taut chain, pulling him forward. Veyron exhaled slowly, his hand hovering just above the handle.

“You’re afraid,” Eryx said. “Admit it.”

“I’m not afraid.”

“Then open the door.” Eryx’s growl rumbled in the back of his mind, low and impatient. The wolf’s possessiveness swelled. “She belongs to us.”

The primal urge to claim her pulsed through him as he shoved through the door. 

Eryx’s voice grew louder. “Ours.” 

His eyes swept the space, locking onto the sleek, obsidian-black scorpion cornering Lyra against the wall. The creature’s segmented carapace glinted, its serrated pincers snapping in challenge. Its arched tail ended in a jagged stinger poised to strike. Red veins pulsed along its knee-high body.

The wolf surged forward, a growl echoing in his mind. “Kill it. Protect her.”

The scorpion lunged, but he was faster. He seized the stinger mid-strike. The creature thrashed, its claws snapping uselessly.

With a sharp twist, Veyron snapped the stinger clean off, the glowing venom dripping harmlessly onto the floor. The scorpion recoiled, erratic and desperate. He drove his boot down hard, cracking its carapace. 

Then he grabbed it and slammed it against the stone wall. Its body shattered with a crunch, black ichor pooling beneath its lifeless remains.

“This is who we are,” Eryx growled, satisfied. He straightened, turning toward Lyra.  “And she’s ours. Weak, but she’ll learn.”

“You shouldn’t let yourself get cornered like that,” he said, his voice low and steady, though his wolf’s influence roughened the edges.

Her eyes moved frantically between him and the scorpion. He stepped towards her and she backed away from him.