LUST AND LUNA

The forest was alive that night, pulsing with an energy that seemed to seep from the earth and swirl into the sky, where the blood-red moon hung ominously above. The howls of wolves echoed through the dense woods, carrying both the primal call of the hunt and the whispers of war. The air was thick, heavy with the scent of pine and the lingering trace of something darker—something dangerous.

Amara clutched the hem of her crimson gown, her breath coming in shallow gasps as she stumbled through the undergrowth. The fabric clung to her body, tattered from the branches that clawed at her like desperate hands. Her heartbeat thundered in her ears, drowning out the rustling leaves and snapping twigs behind her. She wasn't running from just anyone. She was running from him.

The moonlight illuminated the forest, casting an eerie glow on the figure stalking her. His silhouette was massive, his movements fluid like a predator's. The golden light of his eyes cut through the darkness, locking onto her even as she tried to disappear into the shadows. Lucian.

Lucian was not just any werewolf. He was the Alpha of the Blackridge Pack, a warrior known for his ruthlessness and his unfailing dominance. But tonight, he wasn't just hunting prey—he was hunting Amara, the one woman who was never meant to belong to him. A human. A forbidden mate.

Amara tripped on a root, falling hard onto the cold, damp ground. Pain shot up her ankle as she tried to stand, but it gave out beneath her. She cursed under her breath, knowing it was over. She could feel him drawing closer, his presence like a storm descending upon her.

"Stop running," his voice growled, deep and guttural, yet tinged with something she couldn't place—was it anger or longing?

"I don't belong to you!" she spat, her voice trembling but defiant. She dragged herself backward, her hands digging into the soil. "This isn't fate. It's a mistake."

Lucian stepped into the clearing, the moonlight bathing his features. His shirt hung open, revealing a chest carved with scars and muscles that seemed as unyielding as stone. His face was a contradiction of savage beauty—sharp angles, strong jaw, and eyes that burned with both fury and desire.

"You can deny it all you want," he said, his voice softening but no less dangerous. "But the bond between us is undeniable. You feel it, Amara. Every time you breathe, every time your heart races when I'm near. You're mine."

Amara glared at him, refusing to let the pull of his words break her resolve. "I'd rather die than be claimed like some… some prize!"

Lucian's gaze darkened, and for a moment, she thought she had gone too far. But then, something shifted in his expression—pain, vulnerability, perhaps even regret. "You think I wanted this?" he said, his voice low. "Do you think I asked the moon to tie me to a human when my world is at war, when my enemies would slaughter you without a second thought? This bond has ruined us both, Amara. But it's also the only thing keeping us alive."

Her breath hitched. His words struck a chord she hadn't expected, but she didn't have time to dwell on them. A sudden crack of a branch snapped them both to attention. Lucian's head whipped to the side, his entire body tensing like a coiled spring.

"They've found us," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Who?" Amara asked, her voice shaking.

"Hunters."

The word sent a chill down her spine. Werewolf hunters—merciless killers armed with silver weapons, intent on wiping out Lucian's kind. But why were they after her?

Lucian didn't wait for her to ask more questions. He scooped her up effortlessly, ignoring her protests as he began to run. His speed was inhuman, his movements barely stirring the forest around them. Amara clung to him despite herself, her body betraying her with the sense of safety his arms provided.

As they raced through the forest, the sound of boots and snarling wolves grew louder behind them. The hunters weren't alone; they had enlisted rogue werewolves, traitors who had turned against their own kind for the promise of power and wealth.

Lucian skidded to a halt at the edge of a ravine. Below, the river roared, its icy waters illuminated by the crimson glow of the moon. The hunters were closing in; there was no time to hesitate.

"Hold on," he commanded.

"What? No, you can't—"

Before she could finish, Lucian leapt into the air, his powerful legs propelling them across the ravine. Amara screamed, her arms tightening around his neck as the wind whipped past them. For a terrifying moment, it felt as though they wouldn't make it, but Lucian landed with the grace of a predator, his feet hitting solid ground on the other side.

He set her down gently, but before she could say anything, he turned to face their pursuers. "Stay behind me," he growled.

Amara's instincts told her to run, but something in his voice, in the way he stood like an unyielding shield between her and danger, kept her rooted in place.

The hunters emerged from the shadows, their faces masked and their weapons glinting in the moonlight. Silver-tipped arrows, gleaming daggers, and chains meant to bind even the strongest of werewolves. Lucian's pack insignia—two interlocking wolves—gleamed faintly on his shoulder as he let out a low, menacing growl.

"Lucian Blackridge," one of the hunters sneered. "The mighty Alpha, reduced to protecting a human. How… pathetic."

Lucian smirked, his canines elongating as he prepared for the fight. "You're about to find out just how 'pathetic' I can be."

The first hunter lunged, and chaos erupted. Lucian moved like a blur, his claws ripping through armor and flesh with terrifying precision. Amara watched in stunned silence, torn between horror and awe. Despite the odds, he fought with a ferocity that was both beautiful and terrifying.

But then, one of the hunters broke past him, charging toward Amara with a dagger raised. Her breath caught in her throat as time seemed to slow. She had no weapon, no way to defend herself—until Lucian's voice roared through the chaos.

"Amara, duck!"

She dropped to the ground just as Lucian's massive form soared over her, his claws tearing through the hunter's chest. The man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. Lucian turned to her, his chest heaving, his eyes wild.

"Are you hurt?" he asked, his voice softer now.

She shook her head, unable to speak. But in that moment, as he reached down to help her up, something inside her shifted. This man—this creature—had risked everything to protect her, even when she had tried to push him away. And for the first time, she wondered if the bond between them was more than just a curse.

The battle was far from over, but as they stood together under the blood moon, Amara realized one thing: her world would never be the same again.