BloodMoon: Captivated by the Forbidden Lycan Alpha
Chapter 222: A WELL DONE DISGUISE

Chapter 222: A WELL DONE DISGUISE

{ "Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within."}

Hours later, the fire had burned low, the plans were set in for Bloodstone Mountain. The others were still inside, voices fading into murmurs behind the walls of the Mira house as I slipped out the side door and into the cool night air.

The moment I hit the edge of the trees, I let out the breath I had been holding for what felt like hours. Her scent was everywhere, and it clung to the old wood, to the fabric of the chairs, to my damn skin. It was not perfume, it was power. Warm, golden, and threaded with something ancient that stirred my beast like a long-forgotten drumbeat. Every time she moved, every time her voice wrapped around a word like it was hers to own, I felt myself slide closer to the edge, and my control was slipping thread by thread. I found the cave near the Mira house just a shallow cut in the stone behind the brush, and slipped inside, heart hammering like I had just run miles instead of ten feet from her.

I pressed my back to the cold rock, chest heaving. "Get a grip," I growled aloud, the sound raw. But my Rogourau beast inside me was awake now, fully awake. Pacing under my skin, claws dragging just beneath the surface, lips parted in a snarl that was not mine.

Mate.

"No," I hissed, raking a hand through my hair, sinking onto my haunches. "Not now. Not when we are this close to taking down the evil creature. The beast did not answer with words, just emotion, hunger, and possession. That strange yearning that made my teeth ache and my bones feel too small.

"She’s not ready," I whispered. "I’m not ready."

The silence pressed in around me, broken only by my ragged breath and the dull thrum of the earth beneath my boots. I could still taste her on the air, and gods help me, I wanted to go back in that house and pull her against me like she belonged. But I stayed in the cave and because if I did not, the beast would not just rise, and it would claim.

The cave had done its part, kept me hidden. Contained the worst of the beast’s hunger. But the stone walls were starting to feel like they were pressing in, like they wanted to trap not just the Rogourau, but me too. So, I left and moved just beyond the ridge, where the trees broke, and the meadow opened like a secret the forest did not want to share.

The grass was long and wild, swaying in the night breeze. Crickets sang low and steady, and above me, the sky was cut clean with stars. I sank into the grass with a quiet grunt, the blades whispering against my skin as I stretched out. Boots off. Arms folded beneath my head.

The world did not feel heavy here. Not the way it did inside that house, around the war table, with everyone’s eyes full of ghosts and strategy. Out here, the forest below the mountain was just a silhouette.

I exhaled slowly. Deep. Let the scent of the meadow fill my lungs: sweet clover, damp earth, faint traces of animal musk. "She’d laugh if she saw me like this," I murmured to no one, watching a lone hawk wheel through the dark sky. "Laid out like some love-sick wolf, star-counting."

The beast inside me stirred not wild this time, just watchful. Curious. Even it recognized this rare moment of peace. I let my hand drift across my chest, fingers tapping a slow rhythm against my heartbeat. Still strong. Still mine.

"Just one night," I whispered, eyes tracing constellations, and so I lay there, under the stars, waiting for dawn to come and with it, whatever hell waited in Blood Stone Mountain. The stars had almost lulled me to sleep. My limbs were loose, breath was finally even. The meadow whispered in gentle rhythms, and for a heartbeat, I let myself pretend the world was not about to end.

Then I caught her scent, and it was not wind-blown. Not distant and close. My eyes snapped open, heart lurching, and before I could sit up, she was there. Standing over me like a storm just before it breaks. Her silhouette blocked the stars. Her cloak flared out in the breeze like it was part of her, and her eyes were gods; her eyes were hard fire. No mystery, no softness.

"You thought you could just lie out here," she said, voice sharp as a blade, "and no one would come looking?" I opened my mouth, but she did not give me the chance. "What the fuck are you doing out here, Rolan?"

I blinked up at her, still half-sprawled in the grass. "Enjoying the stars?"

Her glare could have set the entire meadow on fire. "Try again."

I sighed, finally pushing myself up on my elbows. "I wasn’t hiding."

She folded her arms. "You left without a word, and you know the danger that lurks."

"Because I needed to breathe," I snapped, more harshly than I meant to, but by the moons, she rattled me. "Because if I stayed in that house any longer with your scent choking the walls, I was going to do something I’d regret."

Her eyes flickered, emotions crackling behind them, surprise, calculation... and something deeper. Something sharp and unspoken. I stood slowly, brushing grass from my hands. She did not move back, and she did not flinch, and neither did I.

"You want honesty?" I said, voice lower now, rougher. "You walk into a room and my Rogourau wakes up. Every inch of me wants to tear through walls just to get closer to you, and it is getting harder to tell where he ends, and I begin." Qadira stared at me, unmoving, unreadable. "And that," I said, "is why I am out here. Not hiding but trying to be sane and holding the line."

For a long, brittle breath, she said nothing, and then her lips parted, and what came next, I could not predict. Her lips parted, and for a heartbeat, I thought she might snap at me, something sharp and biting, a warning, or a challenge, but she did not. She just looked at me, really looked.

"You think you’re the only one who’s holding back, Rolan?" Her voice was low, tight, like every word was a calculated move. She took a step closer, boots pressing into the grass, eyes locked on mine. "I cannot even be near you without my beast wanting to claw its way out. But you do not see me running off into the woods to hide."

Her words stung, but there was something else behind them, something raw. Something she did not want to admit but could not hide. I stood there; chest tight, not sure what to say. This was not how I thought it would go. It was not supposed to be a confrontation not like this.

"I didn’t want to drag you into this," I said, voice rougher than I intended. "I am trying to keep you safe, Qadira. Not just from the mountain, but from—" I stopped myself before I said too much. Before I let the truth slip, the part of me that knew what I was becoming with her was close.

"You think I need protecting?" she asked, a hint of disbelief in her voice. Her eyes narrowed, lips curling into a half-smile that did not reach her eyes. "You do not get it, do you? You are not the only one who is sacrificing something here. You are not the only one holding back."

My beast stirred again, not in hunger now, but in frustration. I could hear it, feel it, clawing beneath the surface. Wanting her. Wanting to claim. I took a step forward, closing the gap, my voice lowering to something rough and raw. "Then why are you standing here, Qadira? Why aren’t you walking away if it is so damn hard?"

Her breath caught, and for a split second, I thought I saw her guard crack. Just a flicker of vulnerability, before it was buried beneath the fire again. "Because I’m not walking away," she whispered, stepping closer still, the air between us charged with something neither of us was willing to admit just yet. "And you shouldn’t be, either."

She was so close now I could feel the heat of her body just a whisper of space between us, enough to make the air feel thick with something else, something dangerous. The words we had not said yet hung between us, and every breath I took smelled like her—warm, intoxicating, too much. It was not just her scent anymore; it was the pulse of her presence, the way she stood in front of me, not backing down, not flinching.

My heart hammered harder in my chest, louder than my thoughts. "You’re not walking away because you can’t," I rasped, the truth slipping past my lips before I could stop it. Her eyes darkened, pupils dilating as her breath quickened. She lifted her chin, that stubborn, defiant fire still in her gaze, but I could see the tremor in her hands. A flicker of want in the way she held herself back.

"Don’t make me the weak one here, Rolan," she growled, voice low, jagged. "You think I do not know what this is? Plus, I can see through you damn disguise."

And just like that, the wall between us cracked wide open, and she surged forward, a flash of movement, and before I knew what was happening, her hand was on my chest, shoving me back against the cool stone of the cave entrance. Her lips were on mine a second later, fierce, demanding, like she was starved for something neither of us dared to face.

I groaned, hands reaching for her without thought, pulling her against me as if I had no control over myself. Her mouth was fire hot and needy, and I could not get enough of it. Her scent wrapped around me, tangled with something darker, something more primal than either of us was ready for. I kissed her back with everything I had. Everything I was. My hands tangled in her hair, the weight of her against me, the push of her hips, the taste of her, it all came together in one, electrifying moment.

But even as the heat surged between us, my beast was awake, raging inside me, clawing to get out, to claim. The hunger inside me twisted, frantic, desperate. I pulled away just enough to breathe, forehead resting against hers, both of us panting like we had run miles.

"You’re playing with fire," I muttered, trying to regain some control, but it was slipping fast. "You can’t just—"

Her hands slid down my chest, and she pressed herself closer, her voice a soft, dangerous whisper. "You are the one who has been hiding, Rolan. You think I am afraid of a little fire?" Before I could respond, she kissed me again. Harder this time. And I lost whatever control I had left.

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