Liam’s POV
The air was thick inside the room, heavy with tension that only seemed to become more oppressive with each ticking second. I walked back and forth along the length of the chamber, my boots booming on the wooden floor in a nervous cadence. Despite how much I tried to think, to reason, to guess at what Steven’s next step would be, I just kept running into a wall. It was infuriating.
Why hadn’t he arrived yet?
He ought to have burst in by now, blinded with rage, ravenous for revenge. I had provided him with reason. I had murdered his sister, razed his pack, and left him dying, both body and spirit. If there was one thing I knew about Steven, it was that he never let an insult pass unrequited. And yet-nothing.
The silence was more frightening than any war cry.
The weight of my own mind rested on me like a threatening storm cloud ready to burst. My fingers tapped in annoyance, and I folded them so hard into fists that my nails bit into the palms of my hands. I yearned for answers. I needed to know what he was thinking.
“Are you alright, Liam?”
Maya’s voice drifted through the room on the breath of a hesitant zephyr, watchful and delicate. Her arms were crossed and she looked at me out of the watching eyes in her head.
I barely noticed her, scowling, anger seeping in me like the waters that waited to rush when a dam broke. “I don’t know what’s going through his head,” I said, frustration craggy around my vocal chords.
Her brows wrinkled and her eyes asked permission for a further tilt of the head. “Who?”
I skidded to a stop, whirling to face her, my temper blowing its top like a loose thread. “Who else, Maya? Steven, of course!” My voice snapped out sharper than I had intended, but I didn’t care. “I murdered his sister. I took his pack from him. I left him with nothing but his anger and his wounds-so why the devil’s not he already here?! Where’s the payback I know he’s burning over?! Why isn’t he in a rush?!”
Maya shifted her weight, carefully selecting her next words. “Perhaps you should just try to calm-”
“Don’t you dare tell me to calm down!” I snarled, the anger spilling over as I interrupted her with a glare so sharp it could cut through steel. My heart pounded in my chest, fear and frustration fueling the storm brewing inside. “You don’t understand, Maya. I don’t act. I plan. I strategize. I know what my enemies will do next before they do it. That’s how I win. That’s how I survived. And here I stand now, blind. I know Steven. I’ve known him since we were kids. He does not keep silent after something like this. He should have been bursting in here, sword drawn, wolf roaring for blood. He should have been incomprehensible with anger, bereaved, wanting to tear me apart.”
I blew out a breath, my chest rising and falling with nearly subdued fury. “But he isn’t. He’s waiting. Watching. And that, Maya, is what scares me.”
We sat there for a moment in silence. The only sound was the fire crackling in the corner, the flames dancing like silent witnesses to my loss of temper. Maya glanced at me, her lips pursed in consideration, as if she had something to say but forgot.
“Liam.” she finally spoke out, but I wasn’t listening for what she was going to say.
I had already decided.
Waiting no more.
I stood before her, my decision firm and unchanging. “Tell them,” I commanded, my voice heavy with certainty. “I want Steven here tonight. No more silence. No more waiting. If he doesn’t make it by then, if another hour passes and he stands not before me, I’ll make sure he has no choice but to come.” I let the words settle, then repeated them, my voice lower, more threatening. “Every hour that he keeps me waiting, one of his pack will be killed by me. I won’t just kill them, I’ll behead them and hang them outside so that vultures will feed on them. Let’s see how long he keeps ignoring me then.”
Maya’s lips parted a fraction, her eyes widening at the chill of cruelty in my voice. There was a flicker of uncertainty in her face, but she covered it at once, nodding stiffly.
I stepped closer to her, closing the distance between us, my eyes on hers. “Go. Tell everyone. Now.”
She hesitated for an instant before nodding again and spinning on her heel, walking away down the hall.
The moment she was gone, I took a deep breath, rolling my shoulders as I tried to shake off the unease that still lingered on me like a second skin. My fingers trembled at my sides.
Steven would show up.
He simply had to.
And when he did, I would get even with him for making me wait.
*****
Steven’s POV
As I stepped into the room, Luna followed behind me, a comforting presence amidst the otherwise quiet of the room. The room was heavy with unspoken words, and I could already sense the concern in her eyes even before she had uttered a word.
“You made a risky decision today,” she answered, her voice laced with concern as she stood by the bed, looking at me with an unyielding gaze.
I let out a deep breath and sat down, my muscles sore from fatigue. “It was necessary,” I said curtly, my voice firm but tired.
Luna didn’t seem to think I was telling the truth. She sat beside me on the bed, her fingers wringing the material of her dress in agitation. “Where did you go before? When you stormed out of the house like that, I was half scared to death. I was worried your anger was going to make you do something stupid.”
I looked at her, seeing the concern etched deeply on her face. “I went to see the priestess. We talked,” I said.
She nodded, but her brow didn’t lift. “You’re tired,” she whispered, her hand caressing mine lightly.
I sighed, feeling the pressure of the day bear down upon me. “Yeah. My wounds aren’t healing.”
Luna’s eyes grew wide with alarm. “Still?!” she cried, moving closer. “Why aren’t they healing yet?!”
I paused for a moment before responding, not wanting to scare her further. “The priestess told me my wolf is hurt. As long as my wolf doesn’t heal, my wounds won’t change.”
Luna’s grip on my hand tightened. “Then we have to do something,” she said. “You need to heal if you’re going to fight. How do we make your wolf heal?”
For an instant, I just stared at her, measuring whether or not to tell the truth. Her resolve, her desperation to help-tugged at my heart.
She saw my uncertainty and frowned. “Steven, what’s wrong?” she asked gently. “How do we cure your wolf?”
I took a deep breath and turned away. “Forget it.”
Her hand wrapped around my wrist, holding me back as I attempted to lie down. “No,” she said sternly. “Why don’t you want to tell me? What aren’t you telling me?”
I gritted my teeth. “Because you won’t be able to do it.”
Luna’s grip on me never let up. “What won’t I be able to do?” she whispered, fear and confusion woven into her voice.
I ran a hand through my hair, the burden of what I was going to say suspended on my tongue before I released it. “When we mated, I told you that the mating bond holds the wolf to his mate, right?”
She nodded slowly.
“The bond is deeper than you know, Luna. It’s not a soul bond, it’s.” I stalled, unable to articulate.
“Say it,” she pushed me impatiently. “What must I do to heal you?”
I breathed deeply. “I need to claim you.”
Luna blinked. “Claim you mean.” Her voice broke a little.
“I have to touch you,” I admitted, my tone low and sultry. “To feel you. To taste you. All of you.”
There was a pause between us. Luna’s face was unreadable, her thoughts hidden behind those beautiful, dark eyes.
I forced myself away. “It’s alright,” I said, trying to uncoil whatever anxiety she was carrying. “If you’re not ready for this kind of thing, I understand. I’m not going to pressure you. I would never pressure you.”
I started to lie back onto the bed, but before that, I felt the soft hush of garments. The sound made my body stiffen up.
I swung my head back, and I caught my breath.
She was unfastening her blouse.
The silken fabric flowed down her shoulders, revealing the smooth curve of her collarbone, her smooth flesh glimmering in the dim light. My heart thudded like a drum inside my head as she took off her trousers, too, pushing them down gradually, dry-mouthed with desire.
I was transfixed, gazing, as she stood facing me-buck naked, naked, beautiful.
I had taken her before, yes. But then, I had been drunk. I had barely known what I was doing. I hadn’t really looked at her. Not like this.
Now, I did.
And I was completely entranced.
Her body was perfect. Her breasts were full, her curves irresistibly inviting, her skin smooth and golden. Her hips were exquisitely shaped, and her legs-long, muscular, and beautiful-stood firm under her.
Each inch of her screamed out to me.
She held her gaze on me, unwavering, as if daring me to glance away. “How long are you going to keep staring?” she taunted, her voice quivering with an underlying nervousness.
I gulped hard, still trying to form a logical sentence. “I. You.”
A sly smile played on her lips. “Did I just render the great Alpha Steven speechless?”
I let out a snort of laughter, rising to my feet, closing the distance between us. Slowly, I extended a hand and took hers in it, tracing the delicate patterns of her palm.
“You are beautiful,” I breathed, my voice trembling with feeling.
She cocked an eyebrow. “Really? Because I remember you telling me you weren’t interested in me. That I wasn’t your type.”
I breathed sharply, wagging my head at myself. “That was. I did not love you then.”
She tilted her head, her gaze roving across my face. “And now?”
I pushed the other hand against her head, cupping it gently, my thumb tracking along her cheek in a caressing motion. “Now, I love you with all my heart.”
Her lips parted, her breath seizing up.
And then, she smiled.
And I was undone in an instant.