BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 180: AFTER THE FLAMES

Chapter 180: AFTER THE FLAMES

{ "Love takes off the masks we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within." }

My body still hummed from where her hands had been. From where we’d been. But the heat had passed. The madness, the ache, it had burned itself out in the furnace of her touch. And now all that was left was this strange, quiet stillness. Like the world had taken a breath and was finally holding it. I sat up slowly, muscles sore in that good way, the way that meant I’d been claimed, loved, known. My clothes were scattered around the cave like forgotten thoughts. I reached for my shirt, pulled it over my head with shaking fingers, then my pants, still warm from the firelight near the cave mouth.

Flora was slower to move. She lay on her side watching me, her hair a dark halo around her flushed face, lips parted in that soft, dazed smile she only wore when she forgot to guard herself.

"I can’t feel my legs," she murmured.

I snorted, tossing her tunic toward her. "You’ll live."

She caught it but didn’t move to put it on right away. Just stared at me like she could memorize this version of me that wasn’t running or snapping or hiding. After a while, she dressed, and I helped her with the buckles on her belt even though I knew she didn’t need help. I just wanted to touch her. Needed the reminder that she was still real, still here, mine.

When we were clothed again, barefoot but warm, she opened her arms wordlessly. I crawled into them like I was made for that space, like it had been carved into the world just for me. Her arms folded around my shoulders, and I buried my face in the crook of her neck. Her scent was different now, less wild, more grounded. Like the earth scent after rain. Like home.

"Are you okay?" she whispered.

I nodded against her collarbone, fingers tracing idle shapes over the scar on her forearm.

"I’ve never..." I started, then stopped, cheeks warming.

She pulled me closer, her lips brushing my temple. "Because it wasn’t just heat."

"No," I murmured, eyes closing. "It wasn’t."

For a while, we just lay there like that, wrapped around each other, the cold stone beneath us softened by shared warmth and everything unspoken. My beast was asleep now, purring somewhere deep in my chest. Happy. Satisfied. I reached for her hand, lacing our fingers together, and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel like I had to hide any part of myself.

The fire had passed, but its embers still flickered beneath my skin, low and slow now, no longer searing, just warm. Bearable. I lay with my head on Flora’s chest, listening to the steady thrum of her heartbeat beneath my ear. It was the kind of rhythm you could build a home around, constant, grounding. I let myself breathe in it for a while before I spoke.

"The heat doesn’t just... come and go," I said quietly, fingers tracing the seam of her sleeve. "For Rogourau shifters, it lasts for days. Sometimes more. And when it hits..." I swallowed; the memory was still sharp even with her arms around me. "It’s like a flame in your blood. A fever that wraps around your bones and burns until it breaks you." She didn’t say anything, but her hand moved to my back, slow and steady, rubbing in gentle circles like she knew that talking about it cost me something.

I closed my eyes, letting the words bleed out. "It hurts," I whispered. "It always has. The kind of hurt you don’t admit out loud. The kind that makes you feel like you’re not you anymore, like the beast is taking over, and all you can do is hold on."

I felt her hand still on my back, thenit slid up to cup the nape of my neck. "I always went through it alone," I added, barely a breath. "No pack. No mate. No one to anchor me when it got too much."

I felt the shift in her body before she even spoke—like the words came straight from her chest to mine.

"You’re not alone anymore, Rita."

I lifted my head, met her gaze and her eyes were fierce, soft around the edges, but blazing in the centre.

"We’re mated," she said firmly, like it was a vow carved in stone. "You hear me? You don’t go through anything alone now. Not the heat, not the pain, not the fear. Nothing."

A lump rose in my throat. I tried to blink it away, but it stayed and she brushed a knuckle across my cheek, her voice gentling. "We’re bound, soul to soul. That means I stay. Always." I didn’t have words for what that did to me and what it felt like to be kept. To be chosen in the aftermath of chaos. So, I didn’t speak. I just pressed my forehead to hers and breathed her in.

Flora stepped back from me slowly, her eyes narrowing with that Commander’s gaze I knew too well:l sharp, calculating, seeing more than I ever said out loud. She tilted her head like she was watching something invisible ripple off of me. Her brows pulled together slightly, not in confusion, but something closer to wonder. Then she nodded, almost to herself.

"I can feel it," she said. "Your power. It’s different now."

I raised a brow, a smile tugging at the corners of my mouth. "Different how?"

Flora let out a breath, one hand flexing like she was trying to ground herself. "It’s stronger. Wilder. Like your energy’s been... pulled into something deeper. Your beast feels like she’s fused with something ancient."

I felt the grin spread across my face without meaning to, teeth flashing. "That’d be the Rogourau in me," I said with a hum of satisfaction. "She doesn’t like being caged. And now, she’s not just mine anymore. She’s ours."

Flora blinked at me, and I stepped forward, slow and sure, the heat in my blood simmering now with something new. Power. Balance. A sense of completion that ran deeper than bone. My beast curled inside me, no longer fighting for dominance but purring in sync with my wolf. One voice. One will.

"She’s merged with my wolf," I said, resting a hand on my chest. "You feel that shift because we’re no longer split, no more beast on one side and wolf on the other. Now, it’s just me. All of me."

The cave air seemed to shimmer with it. My aura ran darker, richer, laced with something ancient and feral, something that came from the bloodline of the Rogourau, the first beasts of flame and fury.

Flora stepped closer again, her fingers brushing mine. "You’re glowing," she whispered.

I chuckled low, tugging her hand gently into mine. "Well," I said, half-teasing, half-thrilled, "guess that means with your precision and my power, we’re about to be unstoppable."

Her eyes sparkled. "We already are." And standing there, power humming under my skin, her hand in mine, the bond between us still pulsing with quiet fire.

"Come on, I have something to show you before we go back to the camp" I informed her and then I led her deeper into the mountain.

Our footsteps echoed softly through the winding stone tunnels, lit only by the faint shimmer of bioluminescent moss along the walls, pale gold against the Gray. The deeper we went, the thicker the air became, charged with old magic and power. But Flora walked beside me, steady and silent, her hand brushing mine every so often as if to say I’m still here. We reached the heart of it, a cavern carved long, tucked between pillars of ancient stone and pools of molten light.

The yellow-furred guardians lay curled in clusters like drowsing foxes made of Sunfire, their golden coats rippling with breath, long ears twitching in their sleep. They looked soft, almost harmless, until you noticed the quiet gleam of their claws. The way the air around them buzzed with something older than war. Flora gasped softly as we stepped inside, and the moment my feet crossed the threshold, the guardians stirred. One by one, they lifted their heads, eyes like molten topaz locking on me. Then, as one, they rose, and then they bowed.

Lowered their heads in perfect unison — not out of fear, not submission but recognition.

Flora turned to me, eyes wide. "Rita..."

I stood taller, swallowing the ache that always came with this part of myself — the part I never shared, not even with the pack. "They know who I am," I said quietly. "Who I’ve always been."

She took a slow step closer, her voice just above a whisper. "Tell me."

I let out a slow breath, the truth sitting heavy and sacred on my tongue. Then I turned to her fully, meeting her eyes. "I’m the Guardian of Sagstone Mountain," I said. "It’s a legacy hidden in my blood, passed down through the Rogourau bloodline to one chosen every hundred years."

I watched her take that in, her eyes scanning the golden beasts, the way they never took their eyes off me. "Only Ro,u my father and Ralph know," I added." It’s a secret buried so deep that even I didn’t fully understand it until the mountain called me back. "

"And now?" she asked, voice soft but steady.

"Now it’s awake again. Because I’ve found the true mate. The heat, the mark, you, it brought me back to myself."

I stepped forward, brushing my fingers through the air above one of the guardians’ heads. It let out a low, contented hum, a sound that vibrated through my bones like home.

"This isn’t just about gold," I said, glancing at the shimmer embedded in the walls. "This mountain protects something older. Something dangerous. And I will protect it."

I looked back at her. "You can’t tell anyone, Flora. Not even the pack. If word ever got out, if anyone tried to take this power—"

"I won’t," she said, cutting me off gently. "I swear it. I will keep your secret for the rest of our lives, together,l that I promise you"