Lyra paced the edge of the pack’s territory, her frustration building with every step. Her conversation with Cassian earlier had left her seething. His dismissive tone, his insistence that their bond was nothing more than duty—it all grated at her nerves. She didn’t know what she expected, but it certainly wasn’t this cold indifference.
Cassian’s voice echoed in her head: “Your duty is to be my mate. That is your fate, Lyra. You are mated to a beast.”
The words stirred something rebellious in her, a defiance she couldn’t tamp down. She turned on her heel and stormed back toward the pack house. Cassian was in the training yard, sharpening his claws against a whetstone, his movements methodical and unbothered.
“We need to talk,” she demanded, her voice sharp.
Cassian glanced at her, his amber eyes unreadable. “What now?”
“You don’t get to decide everything for me,” Lyra snapped, stepping closer. “This isn’t just about duty. It’s about—”
Cassian cut her off by surging to his feet, his towering presence overwhelming. “What do you want from me, Lyra?” he growled. “Do you think I’m happy about this bond? That I wanted it? We don’t have to pretend to love each other. Just play your part.”
Lyra’s hand twitched at her side, her wolf stirring beneath her skin. “And what if I don’t want to just play my part?” she challenged, her silver eyes blazing.
Before she could say more, Cassian’s hand shot out, gripping her chin. His lips crashed down on hers, silencing her protests. The kiss was rough, almost punishing, as though he was trying to erase her defiance with sheer force.
Lyra’s wolf howled in her mind, both enraged and captivated. She pushed against his chest, her palm meeting the ridges of his scars, and pulled back enough to slap him across the face. The sound echoed through the clearing.
Cassian’s head snapped to the side, his amber eyes glowing with shock and something darker. “You—”
Lyra didn’t wait for his response. She turned and ran, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she bolted into the forest. The Mating Mark on her chest pulsed faintly, a mix of anger and desire coursing through her veins. She didn’t get far before a heavy weight tackled her to the ground.
Cassian flipped her onto her back, pinning her wrists above her head against the rough bark of a tree. His body pressed against hers, their proximity crackling with unspoken tension. His wolf was just beneath the surface, his growl low and primal.
“What the hell was that, Lyra?” he snarled, his breath hot against her cheek.
Lyra struggled against his hold, but the heat between them was undeniable. Her wolf stirred, its voice whispering in her mind: Submit to him.
Cassian’s own wolf seemed to echo the sentiment, his amber eyes darkening. “You don’t get to run from me,” he growled, his tone softer but no less commanding.
Lyra’s lips parted, her breath hitching as she felt the bond between them tighten. The world around them faded, leaving only the tension thrumming in the air. When his lips met hers again, the kiss was no longer rough but possessive, claiming her in a way that left her trembling.
They melted into each other, their wolves pushing them further. The whispers grew louder, urging them to succumb completely. And for a moment, the chaos of their bond was all that mattered.