The silence between Selene and Kian stretched, heavy with something unspoken yet alive—an electric tension that made her pulse quicken. The forest around them was cloaked in mist, as though the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting for what would come next.
Kian's dark eyes remained fixed on her, calculating yet oddly gentle, like a predator weighing the danger before a strike. Selene found herself unable to look away. She swallowed thickly, trying to shove down the knot of nerves building inside her.
"You're quiet," Kian finally said, his voice smooth but edged with suspicion. "I expected you to fight back."
Selene stiffened. Fight back—it was all she had ever done in the loops. Every word, every action was a battle to survive, to outwit the noose that Rowan and the Caelums had thrown around her neck. But Kian wasn't Rowan. He wasn't her enemy—yet.
"I don't want to fight you," she replied carefully, studying the man before her. His worn leather jacket, the rough edges of his stubble, the way his muscles tensed ever so slightly as though expecting a trap—everything about him screamed rogue, untrusting and wild.
His mouth twitched, a sardonic almost-smile, as though he could see straight through her. "You say that like you've already tried before."
Selene flinched involuntarily, her heart lurching. He didn't know, couldn't know—but the truth of his words stung anyway. I have tried before. And it's failed. Again and again.
The wind picked up then, cold and sharp, rustling through the canopy above them. It carried the faint scent of pine and damp earth—a smell Selene had grown all too familiar with during her endless cycles of death and rebirth. Her skin prickled, alert.
"You're far from the Vance packlands." Kian's gaze narrowed slightly. "A delicate little 'heiress' like you—why wander out here alone?"
He didn't trust her. She could hear it in the sharpness of his tone, see it in the way his hand hovered near his belt—where a blade was surely hidden. Smart, Selene thought bitterly. Trust had gotten her killed far too many times.
"I wasn't wandering," she lied smoothly, her voice soft but steady. "I was searching."
"For what?"
"Answers."
Kian's brows furrowed, just a little, and the intensity of his focus made Selene's throat tighten. This was it—the moment she could either win his help or lose it. She had no allies in this timeline yet; Kian, for all his mistrust, was the one thread she might cling to before the noose tightened again.
Play it carefully, she reminded herself.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she added quietly. "No one does."
"Try me."
The air stilled. Selene hesitated, fingers curling into fists at her sides. What could she possibly say? That she had died more times than she could count? That a curse bound her to this eternal nightmare? That he—this rogue Alpha—had once saved her before he too had died because of her failure?
She settled for a half-truth.
"There's something wrong with me," she said softly, eyes flicking to his. "And I think you know what it is."
Kian's expression hardened instantly. He stepped closer, slow and deliberate, until the distance between them was a mere breath. His scent surrounded her—woodsmoke, leather, and something darker, untamed.
"What do you mean by that?"
Selene held her ground, though her instincts screamed to retreat. Don't flinch. He's testing you.
"You feel it, don't you?" she whispered. "The pull. Something connecting us."
Kian froze, his body going still as stone. For the briefest second, his mask slipped, and Selene saw it—a flicker of confusion, of recognition. He felt it too.
But then the walls slammed back into place.
"I don't know what game you're playing," he growled, his voice low and dangerous, "but don't involve me."
Selene's stomach dropped. "It's not a game."
"Everything about you reeks of trouble," he said, turning on his heel as though to leave her there. "I don't deal with people like you."
Panic flared in Selene's chest. No, not again. I can't lose him.
"Wait!" she cried, reaching out to grab his arm.
The moment her skin brushed his, the world seemed to tilt. A violent shiver ran through her body, an invisible force crackling to life between them like a spark catching flame.
Kian flinched, his gaze snapping to hers. "What was that?"
Selene staggered back, breathing hard, her pulse pounding in her ears. She knew that feeling. She had felt it before—just moments before her first death.
The bond.
"It's you," she whispered, staring at him in disbelief. "It's always been you."
Kian's expression darkened. "What are you talking about?"
Before she could answer, a sudden noise broke through the trees—a low, guttural growl that made Selene's blood run cold.
They both turned in unison. Shadows shifted in the mist, black shapes slinking between the trees with deliberate, predatory steps.
Wolves.
Selene's breath caught. Not ordinary wolves—Rowan's wolves. She knew that scent anywhere, that foul mix of rot and bloodlust that clung to their fur.
Kian snarled softly, his eyes flashing gold as he moved in front of her instinctively.
"How did they find you?" he demanded, his voice barely more than a growl.
Selene couldn't answer. She didn't know. But as the first wolf stepped into view—its glowing red eyes locking onto her like twin beacons of death—Selene felt the familiar dread claw up her spine.
Rowan knew.
No matter how many times the loop reset, no matter how far she ran, Rowan always found her.
Kian pulled his blade free with a hiss of steel. "Stay close to me."
Selene gripped his jacket tightly, her voice a whisper of desperation. "We can't fight them all. Not alone."
The wolves moved closer, circling them in a tightening noose, their growls echoing through the dark forest.
Kian glanced at her over his shoulder, his eyes wild and sharp. "Then I guess we'll die trying."
The first wolf lunged.