Lorraine’s POV
"You’re stuck here with , little wolf," Kieran said, almost like it amused him. "Until I find a way to get you out."
I backed away from the door slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. I didn’t want to stay. But I didn’t want to die either. And right now, the lesser evil was him.
Kieran.
The Lycan prince.
The devil who had had touched , stripped , saved , and now imprisoned all over again.
My back pressed against the wall opposite him. He hadn’t moved. Still sprawled on the couch like he ruled the world.
And maybe he did.
I crossed my arms tightly around myself, feeling raw. Like sothing inside had cracked open back in that white room and hadn’t closed since. My throat burned. My chest ached. I blinked fast to keep the stinging in my eyes from turning into anything worse.
He noticed.
Of course he did.
"You’ve cried enough in that room," Kieran said quietly. "Don’t cry again here."
"I’m not crying," I snapped too quickly, and my voice trembled just enough to betray .
He didn’t argue. Didn’t mock.
Instead, he stood. And this ti.... there was no smirk on his face.
Just silence.
He walked toward slowly, almost cautiously, like he was approaching a wounded animal. I hated that it fit. That I fit that description. I pressed harder into the wall as if I could disappear into it.
When he stopped in front of , his red eyes weren’t arrogant or amused. They were calm. Focused.
"I saw the marks on your body," he said. His voice was quiet now. No growl. No edge. Just sothing almost.... human. "Your back... your legs... your ribs."
I looked away.
"You were beaten like that, and still, you stood tall. Still, you told no."
I didn’t respond.
"I’ve been surrounded by power my whole life," he continued. "Warriors, killers, alphas with too much pride. But I’ve never seen anyone bleed and still hold their head like you do."
My eyes finally t his. And I hated how his words disard . How they peeled back a layer I didn’t know I was guarding.
"What do you want from , Kieran?" I whispered. "To own ? Control ? Break ?"
He shook his head slowly.
"I don’t know," he admitted. "Breaking you would be fun. It is a challenge I would love to take on. Finding exactly what it would take to break Lorraine Anderson"
"If I was going to break then it would have been a long ti ago, I didn’t co this far to break, nothing you do can ever break " I stated, trying to keep my voice even.
He smirked.
And then he did sothing that truly surprised .
He reached down for my face, so gently, and placed a hand behind my head, pulling forward until my head rested on his sturdy chest
I froze.
His breath was warm. His scent, intoxicating. I could feel the beat of his Lycan heart. That raw magnetic pull between us flared again, but it wasn’t just primal now. It was achingly human.
"I thought you’d go mad in that room," he murmured. "But you didn’t. You scribbled the walls with a language you don’t even understand. And sohow.... you ca out of that madness seemingly stronger."
He pulled back slightly, his eyes scanning mine. "You’re not just a feral. You’re sothing else. Sothing more. And I don’t know what the hell to do with that. I don’t know what the hell to do with you."
My throat clenched.
I didn’t know what the hell to do with either.
But I didn’t pull away.
Not this ti. Not when strangely, his chest felt like ho.
**********
The sleek black jeep rolled past the iron gates of Lunar Crest Academy, its tinted windows catching the dim light of the overcast sky. The mont it halted, the air around the vehicle shifted, tense, charged, aware.
Astrid Voss stepped out.
She moved like a blade, sharp, precise, and lethal without effort. Her heels clicked against the cobblestone path as the wind stirred her dark coat. There was no smile on her lips, no curiosity in her eyes. Only calculation.
She had gone on a day assignnt outside the Academy and she was just returning
A Lycan-in-training, dressed in the crimson-collared uniform, rushed toward her with a low bow. "Welco back, Miss Voss."
She didn’t return the greeting.
"Report," she demanded, her voice cool and clipped.
The guard straightened, his hands behind his back, but sweat already beading at his temple. "Sothing.... significant occurred during your absence, ma’am."
Astrid narrowed her gaze, one perfectly arched brow rising. "Speak."
"The Lycan Prince," he said, trying not to stamr, "he broke into the punishnt building. The white room. He took the feral girl, Lorraine Anderson."
Astrid’s eyes didn’t widen. Her lips didn’t part in shock. Instead, she gave a soft, almost dismissive exhale through her nose.
"I see."
Without another word, she turned and began walking.
The punishnt building stood cold and silent as she entered, its sterile scent mingling with faint traces of blood and ozone. She moved through the corridors until she reached the white room.
The door had been blown off its hinges, clearly Lycan work.
She stepped inside.
The room glowed harsh white, but what caught her eye wasn’t the broken door or the overturned cot.
It was the wall.
Covered in symbols and markings, etched by a girl who shouldn’t know any of it.
Astrid stepped forward, her gloved fingers gliding lightly over the strange writing.
Symbols.
Ancient ones.
Exactly the sa with the ones carved into the walls of the hidden chamber behind her office.
She closed her eyes briefly and inhaled.
"So.... it’s started then," she whispered, more to to herself than to anyone else.
Her gaze lingered on one particular symbol, one shaped like a crescent, bleeding into a spiral.
"And it’s happening sooner than I expected."
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