BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 181: FIRE BENEATH THE SILENCE

Chapter 181: FIRE BENEATH THE SILENCE

{"What you think you become."}

ROU’S POV

The forest doesn’t sleep, not really. Even in the stillness, it breathes. The wind brushes through the trees like fingers over old wounds. I could feel it tonight, every heartbeat of the land humming beneath my boots, every whisper carried on the wind pressing against my skin like a warning.

I was alone, standing at the edge of the Bay Shifter woods. Their trees weren’t like ours, lighter, taller, with pale bark that caught the moonlight like bone. The air here carried the sharp tang of saltwater and wildflowers, different from the ironwood and dark moss of Rogourau lands.

I ran a hand through my hair, jaw clenched tight. "I shouldn’t be here," I muttered, though no one was listening but the wind.

Truth was, I’d been pacing this stretch of forest for hours. Sleep wouldn’t come. Not with everything clawing at me from the inside.

Tor was waiting. Tomorrow, we’d leave for Hanka Island and then the godforsaken Blood Stone Mountain.

"Alpha Rou," Tor had summoned for me and then he added "Come with me," his voice calm as still water. "We need to get to Hanka Island and then Blood stone mountain and this will be a chance for you to talk to Rolan. "

I huffed, and then a twig snapped behind me. I didn’t turn.

"I know that brooding posture," Tor’s voice cut through the hush like flint on steel. "You’re either doubting your decision or composing some dramatic farewell speech in your head."

"I don’t do speeches," I said.

"You do silences loud enough to shake trees." He teased and then stepped beside me, his presence like a steady drumbeat in my storm.

"I’m not sure what I’m looking for," I confessed, my voice barely louder than the rustling leaves. "But it’s not here."

"You don’t have to know what you’re looking for. You just have to know you’re not done searching," Tor said, eyes locked on the horizon. I turned my gaze that way too, beyond the trees, beyond the cliffs, toward the black slash of ocean that waited beyond.

"I’ll meet you at the shoreline before dawn," I said. "If I’m not there, assume the forest swallowed me whole."

Tor smiled, that wolfish, knowing grin. "If it tries, I’ll come drag you out." He left then, quiet as shadow. And I was alone again, but the silence didn’t press quite as heavy this time.

After Tor left, the silence stretched around me dense, pressing, almost expectant. The kind of silence that made your skin prickle and your instincts sharpen. I walked deeper beneath the trees, letting the air cool the heat building beneath my skin. The need to shift clawed at me. The beast inside the Rogourau was impatient. Restless. I reached a clearing, unfastened the clasps at my collar, and exhaled slowly. The moonlight painted silver across my shoulders. My breath came deeper. My bones hummed with the first hints of change.

And then I felt it. A prickle at the base of my neck. A presence was close, and I realized that I was being watched. I didn’t flinch. I listened. Let the Shadow Pulse ripple from my chest in a low, unseen wave. It brushed over the clearing... and caught. On something warm. Familiar. Dangerous in the way fire is dangerous when it pretends to stay in the hearth.

I turned slowly. "Why do you keep following me of late?"

She stepped from the trees like a ghost woven from night and storm light. Commander Belle Mortas. Her dark coat shifted with the wind, her gloves tucked into her belt, her hair loose for once, windswept and wild like the space between dreams. Her eyes locked on me, unreadable but intense, like she was weighing every part of me without speaking a word.

"Maybe I wanted to see it," she said softly.

My heartbeat kicked. "See what, exactly?"

Belle walked closer, the space between us shrinking like it was never really meant to exist. "The part you don’t show anyone else. The part you bury under orders and duty."

She was close now, and yet I didn’t move away. "You knew I was shifting," I murmured. "And you still came?"

She tilted her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "Especially because of that."

I swallowed. The air between us grew thick like heat rising before a storm. "I’m leaving," I said, more to remind myself than her. "Before dawn. With Tor."

"I know." Her gaze flicked to my lips, just for a second. "That’s why I’m here."

I stepped back, but not far. "This isn’t like you, Belle. Does your father and brother know that you are here, behaving like this?’

She followed. "Maybe I’m tired of being like me."

Silence pulsed between us. Not heavy. Just charged. Then, her hand rose slowly, her fingertips ghosting just near my jaw but not quite touching. "I am intrigued and wondered what it would look like... when you didn’t."

I let the shift slide back, just beneath the surface, holding it there half-lit, half-formed. My eyes burned silver, and I knew she saw it. "You should go," I said, though my voice betrayed the conflict rising in my chest.

Belle’s smile was soft. Sad. "Maybe I want to spend the last few hours with you before you leave."

I didn’t move. Couldn’t speak, and she leaned in just enough to breathe the same air. "You do know that this journey is dangerous and you might not return."

"You’re doing it again," I said, voice low. Rough. "Looking at me like that."

"Like what?" she asked, pretending not to know.

"Like you want something I can’t give you."

She didn’t flinch. "Maybe I want something you won’t let yourself have."

I took a breath that didn’t help. My chest felt too tight for the space between us. My pulse kicked, heavy and deliberate. I looked away, just for a second, just long enough to try and steady the storm surging behind my ribs.

"This can’t happen, Belle."

"But it already is."

Her voice was soft, but there was steel threaded through it. She wasn’t backing down. Not this time.

I stepped back. She followed. "You think I don’t see it?" she asked, eyes catching the moonlight like polished obsidian. "The way you look at me when you think I’m not watching? The way your voice changes when you say my name?"

"Stop."

"No," she said, stepping right into my space. "You’ve been running from this since you met me. You can lie to the clan. You can lie to Tor. But don’t lie to me."

My jaw was clenched. I could smell the wildflowers in her hair. The scent of old leather and danger. Every part of me wanted to pull her in, to see what happened when the space between us finally broke.

"I’m not who you think I am," I said, voice a rasp. "You’re chasing a shadow of me that doesn’t exist anymore. An old man who needs to be left alone. The responsibility I have is too great, and you are just but a young shifter wolf."

Belle reached up, slowly, deliberately, and brushed her fingers just barely along the edge of my jaw. It was the lightest touch, but it set my skin on fire.

"I’m not chasing a shadow, Rou," she whispered. "I’m chasing you. And I think the part of you that wants me is still alive. Still burning."

I caught her wrist before she could move closer, held it there between us like a question I couldn’t answer. Her skin was warm, her pulse steady. Mine was not.

"You don’t know what you’re asking for," I said.

"I do," she breathed. "I’m asking you to stop pretending."

The moment hung there thick, hot, breathless. If I let myself go, just for a second, I knew I wouldn’t stop. Not tonight. Not with her.

So, I let her wrist go. Stepped back. Forced the walls back up. "I leave at dawn," I said. "You should go before I forget why you ever meant to."

"You’re running again," she said quietly.

"No," I replied, voice rough. "I’m surviving."

She took a single step forward. Just one. But it shattered the space between us. "You don’t have to keep pretending, Rou." Her voice was low, almost tender. "Not with me."

"I’m not pretending." But even I didn’t believe that.

Belle looked at me for a long time. And then she said the words I didn’t expect. The ones that broke through everything.

"Then kiss me."

My breath caught. Everything in me froze, and I knew that she wasn’t teasing. There was no command in her voice, no order in her tone. Just her. Just Belle. I wanted to press my mouth to hers until the world disappeared. I wanted to forget the weight of titles, the war between us, and the duty pulling me toward Hanka. I wanted her.

"I can’t," I said, though it came out like a lie.

"Yes, you can." Her voice didn’t waver. "You just won’t."

Belle took another step. Her hand reached out, fingers brushing the edge of my coat. Barely touching. "I’m not asking you to promise anything," she said. "I’m not asking for forever. Just—this. Just one moment of truth."

I looked at her. The tension in her jaw. The softness in her mouth. The hope buried under years of Armor and silence. At that moment, my control cracked. My hand rose on instinct, fingers curling into her waist, pulling her just close enough to feel the shape of her breath.

"Belle..."