Stolen Mate

Morana's fire hissed as she tossed the lunar flower into the flames. It didn't burn—it *melted*, pooling into liquid moonlight at the bottom of the cauldron. The witch stirred in Kieran's blood, then Lila's stolen essence, the mixture bubbling like a living thing. The air thickened with the scent of lavender and iron, and my chest tightened. This was my soul in a pot. 

Rylan held me upright, his arm a brace against my trembling. The poison still gnawed at my veins, cold and relentless, but his grip was warm. Anchoring. 

"Drink," Morana croaked, ladling the glowing liquid into a bone cup. 

I hesitated. "Will it… hurt?" 

She grinned, all jagged teeth. "Only if you fear the truth." 

Rylan's fingers tightened on my waist. "You don't have to—" 

"I do." I took the cup. The liquid hummed against my lips, sweet and sharp, like moonlight given form. I drank. 

Fire exploded in my gut. 

I doubled over, gasping, as the world fractured into light and shadow. My skin prickled, burning where the poison had turned my blood to ice. Rylan caught me before I hit the ground, his voice raw. "Elara!" 

"It's working," Morana rasped. "The scent returns." 

And then I smelled it—lavender. Faint, fractured, but *mine*. Tears blurred my vision. I pressed a hand to my throat, where my pulse now thrummed with warmth. 

Rylan inhaled sharply, his nose brushing my hair. "You… you smell like *you* again." 

The words cracked something in me. I wanted to laugh, to sob, but the poison's chill surged back, sharper. I choked, black veins spidering up my arm. 

Morana clicked her tongue. "The rot fights the ritual. Finish it, or she dies." 

"How?" Rylan snarled. 

The witch pointed to the cauldron's dregs. "The Alpha's blood calls to his mate. Let him answer." 

A howl ripped through the night—not from the woods, but from the smoke coiling above the fire. Kieran's face materialized in the haze, his eyes wild, his claws tearing at the earth. *Searching.* 

"He feels you," Morana whispered. 

And I felt *him*. A pull in my ribs, a drumbeat in my skull. *Mate. Mate. Mate.* 

"No," I gasped. "He's bonded to Lila—" 

"The heart knows what the nose forgets." Morana tossed a handful of ash into the flames. The vision sharpened: Kieran froze mid-howl, nostrils flaring. His gaze snapped north—*toward us*. 

Lila appeared at his side, her hand on his arm. "Alpha, what's wrong?" 

He shook her off, snarling. "She's *alive*." 

The bond—*our* bond—flared in his storm-gray eyes. For a heartbeat, I let myself hope. 

Then Lila's claws slashed the vision to ribbons. 

"Finish it," Rylan growled, yanking the ladle from Morana. He pressed the last of the liquid to my lips. "Now." 

I drank. 

The world went white. 

When I opened my eyes, the clearing was silent. My scent hung in the air—lavender and moonlight, fractured but undeniable. Rylan crouched beside me, his face ashen. 

"Did it work?" My voice was a rasp. 

He nodded, jaw clenched. "Too well." 

A howl answered—closer this time. Primal. Hungry. 

*Kieran.* 

Morana vanished into the trees, cackling. "Run, little wolves. The hunt begins." 

Rylan hauled me up, his touch bruising. "We need to go. *Now*." 

I stumbled, my legs still weak, but the poison's grip had loosened. The scent was a beacon, and Kieran was coming. 

As we fled, I prayed he'd reach me before Lila did.