BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 177: THE SCENT BENEATH THE FEAR

Chapter 177: THE SCENT BENEATH THE FEAR

{"Never did I believe that there could be such utter happiness in this world, such a feeling of unity between two mortal beings"}

He stood up slowly and rose from the nest of fur blankets we once tangled ourselves in like he hadn’t moved in hours, maybe days. The moonlight cut across his bare chest, catching on the sharp lines of his collarbone and the shadows under his eyes. He looked smaller somehow. Like the forest had drained something from him. Or maybe I just hadn’t seen him like this ever.

My paws hit the soft grass in near silence as I stepped out into the clearing. I could feel the rise of adrenaline still in my blood, the ghost of fury burning beneath my ribs. I had come here angry. Furious, even. At his silence. At his vanishing act. At the way he tore a hole through my life and didn’t look back.

But all of it began to unravel the moment I saw him. His scent hit me first. Not just the sweetness of him, but the storm beneath it. Not fear of me, no, never that but the kind of fear that builds in the bones. The kind born from shame... or heartbreak.

He wasn’t hiding from me. He was hiding from himself. I froze a few paces away, and His eyes met mine. By the moon goddess, those eyes. Blue and stormy, rimmed red like he hadn’t slept, like he’d been crying and trying to pretend he hadn’t. He took one small step forward, then stopped again, shoulders trembling like he might fold in on himself.

I let out a low, rumbling breath. Not a growl. Something softer. Something meant only for him.

His scent curled around me now, and I picked up the undercurrent of it anxiety, thick and sharp. Like he’d been trapped in his thoughts too long. My anger collapsed under the weight of it, and I realized that he was in pain.

I padded forward, slow, deliberate. Ears low. Tail steady. Every movement, a word he’d understand, I’m here. I’m not mad. Just come back to me. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. Just a breath that hitched halfway through, like he’d swallowed too many words and they got stuck somewhere between regret and longing.

I shifted, bones cracking, fur retracting, my body folding back into its human form. Naked, barefoot, scarred, and shaking from the shift, I stood tall again.

And he looked like he might fall apart if I said the wrong thing.

So, instead, I said what mattered. "Ralph," I breathed. "Who the fuck gave you permission to leave me?"

The silence between us stretched, taut as a drawn bowstring. He stood there, bare, beautiful, guilty, and all I saw was the empty bed. The cold space where his warmth had been and the crumpled sheets that still held his scent. The promise in his voice the night before— "I’m yours"—and the lie it became by morning. I stepped forward, and he flinched not in fear, but in knowing. He felt the shift in my body, in my energy. The way dominance rolled off me like thunder over mountains. And he should’ve. Because I wasn’t just hurt.

I was furious. "You ran," I said, my voice low and sharp. "After everything. After me."

He opened his mouth. I didn’t let him speak. "You think I woke up calm?" I growled. "You think I rolled over and stretched like it was just another night? Like I hadn’t held you, kissed you. marked you? You weren’t just some warm bodies, Ralph. You were mine. My Omega, mine to claim."

His breath caught, but still no words.

"I woke up to cold sheets and silence. I reached for you and touched air. Do you know what that does to a man like me?" I stepped closer. "To a wolf like me?"

He looked down, ashamed. Good. He should feel it. My hands were clenched at my sides, shaking with restraint. I could feel the wolf just beneath my skin, pacing, snarling.

"You don’t get to do that," I said, voice cutting softer now, but sharper. "Not after the way you looked at me. Not after you begged me to take you like that, to claim you like you were born for me."

Finally, he looked up. His eyes glistened.

"I didn’t mean to hurt you—" he whispered.

"Too late," I snapped. I took one final step, closing the distance. My voice dropped to a rough, quiet edge.

I stood over him, breathing hard, and the wind shifted, and I caught it. A single thread in the air, sweet, thick, ripe. Almost masked by guilt and fear, but not enough. Not for me, as my nostrils flared. My chest rose slowly, as if my lungs could barely handle what they were pulling in.

His scent.

Not just his usual softness. Not just the comforting, earthy trace I had memorized night after night pressed against his skin, the one that I had last night. Ralph’s gaze darted away, like he knew. Like he’d hoped I wouldn’t notice. Like his body was betraying him in real time.

And then it hit me, he was still in heat. I stepped closer, slow and commanding, until I stood directly in front of him. My shadow fell over his bare skin. He was trembling now, but not from fear. From something else entirely.

"You’re in fucking heat," I said, voice dropping low, rough with restraint. He closed his eyes, jaw tight.

"And you ran," I added, the realization slotting together like pieces of a blade being forged. "Because you thought I’d see it, smell it, and think less of you."

I could feel it in him. The shame curled beneath his scent. The way his thighs pressed together subconsciously, the way his breath quickened as I loomed closer.

"You thought I’d call you weak," I murmured, leaning down just enough for my voice to graze the shell of his ear. "You thought I’d see your need and think it made you something small. Fragile."

I straightened slowly, my gaze still locked on him. My tone dropped, dominant and clear.

"You forgot who you belong to." That made his breath catch. His lips parted. A flush crept over his skin.

I tilted my head slightly, letting the wolf rise behind my words. "I don’t shame my Omega for his body. I worship it. I will protect it. And I answer when it calls."

His knees almost buckled as the scent of his heat pulsed stronger, like a tide finally permitted to rise. I reached out and cupped his jaw, tilting it up so he had no choice but to look me in the eyes.

"You ran because you didn’t trust I could handle it," I said. "But you forgot something, Ralph."

He swallowed hard. "I live for your fire," I whispered. "And I burn better when you need me most."

"Tiger, "Ralph whispered, and his voice trembled.

He was trembling in my arms, soft, hot, and impossibly mine. The heat rolling off his body came in waves now, undeniable, unrelenting. I could feel it pulsing beneath his skin like a second heartbeat, one that answered only to me.

The forest watched in silence. Moonlight poured through the branches above, silver and ancient, like even the stars knew what was about to unfold.

I held him tighter.

"Ralph," I whispered against his temple, "you don’t have to hide this from me. You never did."

He let out a breathless sound, half sigh, half moan, as his fingers curled against my chest. His eyes fluttered closed, lashes damp with emotion, lips parted as his body betrayed him again and again, begging without words.

"I’ve got you," I murmured, voice low and sure. "You’re safe with me. Always."

He nodded, cheeks flushed, and I felt the final wall inside him crack, and so I laid him down.

Slow, deliberate, and reverent, the fur blankets still held the scent of our last night together: fire, skin, salt, and need. Now they would remember this one, too. I undressed him in silence. Not roughly, not this time. Each layer peeled away felt like another lie slipping from between us. His shirt, damp at the collar with heat, came first. Then the trousers, heavy with his scent. He shivered as I ran my fingers along his hip, not with cold but with want.

"You’re beautiful like this," I said softly, "and I’ll never tire of reminding you."

He moaned, soft, shy, and helpless, like he couldn’t help the sound escaping him. The moment his bare back touched the fur, he arched slightly, thighs parting without thinking. The scent of his heat hit harder now. Potent. Pulling me down like a tide, I had no will to fight. My own body responded instantly, hard, aching, straining against the limits of my control. But this wasn’t about taking. It was about answering a call older than either of us. A bond written in blood and instinct, forged beneath the moon.

I knelt over him, caging him in my arms, my chest heaving with the weight of restraint. "Baby, you can always trust me. I am here for you." I asked, my voice barely more than a growl now.

His answer came in a whimper, his hand reaching up to grip my wrist. "Tiger," he breathed, "I need you, but I was afraid you would think less of me."

"You don’t have to beg," I cut in, brushing my lips across his. "You already belong to me as much as I belong to you."

The forest around us faded. The only sound was his breath, my growl, the distant rustle of the trees. And beneath the endless stars, wrapped in fur and fire, we gave in to the heat.