Chapter 3 When she faints

After Maxwell left, Zenobia stood by the window, her eyes fixed on the blood-red moon hanging heavy in the sky. A quiet sigh escaped her lips.

Even now—stripped of her wolf, abandoned by her mate—she refused to lay blame at the feet of the Moon Goddess.

Perhaps this was simply part of her fate.

Perhaps the Goddess, in Her unknowable wisdom, had given her a blessing disguised as loss.

Perhaps only by walking through this darkness could she claim the life that was truly meant for her.

She wrapped a cloak around her shoulders, its fabric whispering against her skin, and stepped into the night.

Drawn by something deeper than grief, deeper than pain, she walked toward the moon.

And in its silvery light, she felt it—

a gentle, motherly touch, as though the Moon herself was reaching down to cradle her bruised soul.

Her feet carried her to her favorite place—the secluded hot spring nestled deep within the pack’s territory. The moment she reached the clearing, steam rose in delicate wisps, and the warmth beckoned her closer. She knelt by the water’s edge, dipping her fingers in, relishing the contrast against her cold skin.

A rustling in the trees made her tense.

She turned sharply, expecting to see Amber or another pack member. Instead, golden eyes pierced through the darkness.

Zenobia’s breath hitched.

A massive, pitch-black wolf stood at the edge of the clearing, watching her with unnerving intensity. He was unlike any wolf she had ever seen—larger, more regal, exuding a presence that sent a shiver down her spine.

She knew who he was.

The Lycan King. Orion.

Her heart pounded as he took a step forward, his powerful frame moving with effortless grace. Was he here to kill her? To warn her?

Before she could decide whether to run or stand her ground, another presence emerged from the shadows.

Louis.

Maxwell’s beta.

Zenobia exhaled shakily as he approached, his expression unreadable. But there was something in his eyes, something different.

“Zenobia,” Louis murmured, his voice soft but firm. “You shouldn’t be here alone.”

His concern should have been comforting, but the way his gaze lingered on her made something twist in her chest.

She swallowed hard. “Louis, why are you here?”

He hesitated before stepping closer, lowering his voice. “Because I know what you’re feeling.”

Her eyes narrowed. “And what is that?”

Louis’s jaw clenched. “Betrayal.”

A gust of wind rustled the trees, and Zenobia glanced back at Orion, only to find that the lycan king was still watching her.

She wasn’t sure what unnerved her more—his presence, or the way Louis’s words sent a strange warmth through her chest.

Before she could respond, a sudden, familiar touch gripped her wrist.

She whipped around to see Maxwell standing behind her.

His expression was unreadable, but his grip was firm, possessive.

“Come back to bed,” he murmured, his voice low and coaxing. “Let me make you forget all of this.”

Zenobia’s stomach turned.

There was a time when his touch had been her solace. When his presence had been enough to make her feel safe.

Now?

Now, it made her skin crawl.

She yanked her hand free, stepping back. “I can’t do this anymore.”

Maxwell’s gaze darkened, but before he could respond, she turned to Orion, making a decision she never thought she’d have the courage to make.

“I need your help.”

Orion's golden eyes gleamed in the moonlight, a silent promise of something dangerous.

Louis inhaled sharply.

Maxwell’s expression softened as he took a slow step toward Zenobia. “Zeno,” he murmured, his voice gentle now, laced with the same warmth that used to make her heart ache in longing. “Come back with me. We can talk about this.”

She narrowed her eyes. “Talk?” Her voice dripped with disbelief. “Isn’t that what we’ve been doing? And yet, nothing has changed.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” Maxwell insisted, his tone coaxing. “You’re still my mate.”

Zenobia’s lips curled into a bitter smile. “And yet, you keep proving otherwise.”

Maxwell reached for her, his fingers grazing her wrist. “You’re upset, but we can fix this.” His grip was light, not forceful, as if he truly believed he could sway her with a few well-placed words.

She pulled her hand back sharply. “You can’t fix something you’ve already broken.”

Before he could respond, hurried footsteps echoed through the clearing.

“Zeno!” Amber’s voice was filled with alarm as she rushed toward them, her sharp gaze flickering between Zenobia and Maxwell. “What’s going on? I woke up and couldn’t find you—”

Her words died in her throat the moment her eyes locked onto Orion.

Amber stiffened instantly, taking a step back. Her breath hitched, her body tensing as if instinct was screaming at her to run. “Zenobia,” she whispered, barely audible. “Why is he here?”

Zenobia frowned, turning slightly. Amber’s fear was tangible, her hands clenched into fists as she struggled to steady herself.

Sensing her friend’s unease, Zenobia waded out of the hot spring. Water streamed down her skin, her night robe clinging to her form as she approached Amber and gently took her hands.

“Breathe,” she whispered. “It’s okay.”

Amber swallowed hard, glancing between Zenobia and Orion. “I don’t think it is.”

Maxwell stepped forward again, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Enough of this,” he snapped. “You’re being reckless, Zeno. You don’t even know why he’s here.”

Zenobia turned back to Orion. The massive black wolf hadn’t moved, hadn’t uttered a sound. He simply watched. Studied. Waiting.

Something inside her stirred, a pull that wasn’t laced with fear, but curiosity. Instinct.

She took a step forward.

Maxwell was beside her in an instant, grabbing her wrist tightly this time. “Are you out of your mind?” His voice was low, urgent, laced with something dangerously close to desperation.

Zenobia looked down at his grip, then back up at him. “Let go.”

Maxwell’s grip tightened. “He’s not one of us.”

“Maybe that’s the point,” she murmured.

Maxwell’s lips parted slightly, shock flickering across his face.

Zenobia yanked her wrist free and turned away, stepping toward Orion with steady resolve. Every fiber in her body told her this was a moment she couldn’t walk away from.

Louis, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, his voice unusually tense. “Zenobia, think carefully.”

She didn’t stop.

Orion remained still, his golden eyes locked onto her.

The night air grew thick with tension.

And just as she reached him, Orion shifted.

The massive black wolf melted away, bones cracking, fur retracting, limbs elongating until he stood before her—not as a beast, but as a man.

Tall. Powerful. Lethal.

Zenobia’s heartbeat suddenly quickened.

Everything was happening too fast—so fast, she hadn’t even realized the change within herself.

The man before her was tall and devastatingly handsome, his muscles chiseled with almost inhuman perfection.

Unlike most wolves, he wasn’t entirely bare after shifting—he radiated a mysterious, intoxicating energy that wrapped around her like smoke.

Zenobia’s cheeks were already flushed with heat, though she remained utterly unaware of her reaction.

Orion tilted his head slightly, a glint of amused mischief flickering in his sharp golden eyes.

He ignored everyone around them as he walked toward her, each step slow and deliberate, his voice like thunder wrapped in velvet.

"You called for my aid," he said.

"Then tell me, little wolf—what is it that you truly desire?"

Zenobia’s hand lifted before she even realized it, trembling in the moonlight.

Her breath caught in her throat, and instead of words, a soft, involuntary moan escaped her lips.

Mortified, she slapped a hand over her mouth and turned to flee—

But Orion was already there, blocking her path, a knowing smile on his lips.

“Say it,” he whispered, voice thick with temptation.

“You know what you want.”

Zenobia’s voice came out in a whisper, as fragile and beautiful as shattered rose petals floating on the spring wind.

“Mate.”

Orion smiled, slow and satisfied.

“Correct answer,” he purred.

“You need your mate.”