Chapter 4 Visions of the Rogue

The mornings in the pack house had never felt so heavy. Light filtered through the carved windows in streaks of gold, but it did nothing to chase the weight pressing on my chest. Every glance at the mark on my wrist reminded me that Darius had claimed me, bound me, and yet… I felt like a traitor to myself.

Training began at dawn, the ritual steps and combat exercises a constant reminder that I had duties to fulfill. Darius watched me silently, always nearby, his eyes calculating, steady. I could feel the pride and approval in his gaze, but my heart was elsewhere—adrift in the forest, with the rogue I had saved, whose scent haunted my clothes and whose memory refused to leave me.

I tried to focus on my wolf, on the ways the bond with Darius was supposed to strengthen me. But it was no use. Every time I closed my eyes, every time I tried to meditate or connect with the Moon, his image surged forward: silver-blue eyes, dark wet hair plastered against a face I couldn’t forget, the sharp line of his jaw.

By the second day, the visions began.

It started small. A shadow moving through the forest, his shape barely distinguishable from the trees. A scent on the wind, faint but unmistakable. Then it escalated. At night, I would awaken to the sound of claws on bark, his low growl echoing in my mind as though I had taken him into my own dreams.

I thought I was losing my mind. I thought perhaps the Moon was testing me—or punishing me.

And then I realized something terrifying: the bond with Darius, the mark that was supposed to tether me to him, was amplifying every thread of life I had touched in the moment of danger. That rogue… he had left a mark on me the night I saved him. One that the Moon could not ignore.

I found myself wandering the corridors of the packhouse at odd hours, unable to sleep. The pack slept soundly, unaware of the turmoil roiling beneath my calm exterior. Even Darius, my fated mate, seemed oblivious to the way my body and mind rebelled against the bond.

“Lyra,” a voice whispered. I spun around.

Mira stood in the shadows, eyes wide. “You’re awake again. I hear it in the way you move—your wolf. She’s restless, more than I’ve ever felt her before. What is it?”

I hesitated, unsure how much to reveal. “I… I don’t know. I feel… him.”

“Him?”

“The rogue I saved,” I admitted, voice barely audible. “The one from the forest.”

Mira’s eyes widened. “Lyra, you can’t—”

“I know,” I said, shaking my head. “But it’s like he’s inside me. The Moon—something about the bond… it won’t let me ignore it.”

Mira took a step closer. “You need to tell Darius.”

“No,” I said sharply. “I can’t. Not yet. He doesn’t know, and if he did—if anyone did—everything would change. I can’t risk it.”

Her hand fell on my shoulder, light but steady. “Then be careful. Wolves can sense more than you think. And the Moon… she never forgives deceit.”

Later that night, I slipped into the forest again, drawn by instinct. The silver moon bathed the trees, illuminating every leaf and shadow. The air was thick with the scent of pine, damp earth, and danger.

I focused on the visions, allowing them to guide me. And then I saw him—Kieran—real, not a memory, not a dream. He stood across a clearing, his eyes bright against the darkness, the same storm of silver-blue that had haunted me from the beginning.

He was alive.

I ran toward him before my mind could stop me. Each step was a pulse of fear and longing, my wolf urging me forward even as my human mind screamed caution.

“Kieran,” I breathed.

He turned, and the expression on his face stopped my heart. It was a mix of relief, disbelief, and something else… something that made the air between us heavy, electric, alive.

“You came back,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t know if you would.”

“I had to,” I said, though I had no clear reason why. “You… you’re in danger. I can feel it.”

He glanced over his shoulder. “They’re coming. The rogue pack I was running from… they know where I am. They’ll find me tonight.”

I felt the surge of my wolf beneath the skin. “I can help you.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said, taking a step back. “If Darius finds out—”

I stopped him with my hand, pressing it against his chest. “No one can find out,” I whispered. “I swear it. But I can’t leave you.”

His gaze lingered on mine, searching, assessing. Then he sighed, a low sound that spoke of both surrender and trust. “Alright,” he said. “But if anyone knows… it’s over. Not just for me… for you too.”

I nodded. “I understand.”

For hours, we moved through the forest together. I guided him to safe places I had known since childhood, hidden hollows, and abandoned shelters. Each time we stopped, the pull between us grew stronger—an undeniable magnetic tension that made every heartbeat unbearable. Every brush of skin sent electric sparks through me, and I was acutely aware of how impossible this was.

Impossible because of Darius. Impossible because of the Moon. Impossible because I was supposed to be loyal, obedient, and perfect.

And yet, impossible didn’t matter anymore.

When the first rays of sunlight crept over the horizon, painting the forest gold and silver, Kieran looked at me, his chest heaving, his hair sticking to his damp forehead.

“You’re extraordinary,” he said softly. “I’ve never met anyone like you.”

I swallowed, heart thudding. “I’m supposed to be Luna,” I whispered. “I’m supposed to… be someone else. I shouldn’t exist like this.”

He shook his head, his hand brushing against mine. “You exist like this because you choose it. And right now… right here… you’re saving me. That makes you real. That makes you more than any title, any bond, any pack.”

Something inside me broke and reformed all at once. I wanted to stay, to fall into him, to ignore everything else, but the Moon had more plans than my heart dared imagine.

Because destiny, like love, is rarely simple.