Chapter 2 The Unspoken Pressure

He hadn't followed her like a predator. No. He'd walked toward her like someone who had already claimed the right to step into her silence.

And now, even in the quiet, she felt him.

"You're afraid," he'd said.

And it was still echoing in her mind. Not like an accusation, but like a truth she'd buried so deep, she could hardly bear to face it.

"I'm not afraid," she had replied, but her voice had betrayed her. It always did when the truth pressed too hard against her ribs.

Selene sank onto a thick tree root jutting from the earth. Her legs felt hollow, her spine cold. The fading light bathed the forest in gold and indigo. The night had begun to claim the sky, but she didn't dare return to the pack clearing.

She knew what waited there.

Laughter. Bonds. Strength. Wolves who weren't broken.

Her lips parted, a sharp breath escaping, as she cradled her head in her hands. How could one man, one wolf, disturb her calm so easily?

She'd never met anyone like Lucian. His gaze was like fire and frost, scorching and freezing in one look. He saw her. Not like the others did, not like Lyra's sweet reassurances or the elders' awkward glances.

Lucian looked at her as if he recognized her soul.

And that terrified her.

She'd spent years building walls. Creating the illusion of acceptance, learning to smile while a hollow ache gnawed at her from within. She had told herself a hundred times it didn't matter that her wolf never came. That she could still be strong, still belong. Still be wanted.

But the truth screamed otherwise.

Selene rubbed her arms, remembering the way Lucian's voice had lowered, soft, not to seduce, but to confess.

"I know what you're going through... I've been there."

Had he really? Or was he playing some deeper game?

Selene had seen enough to know that power always had an angle. And Lucian, he reeked of power. The way he stood. The way the air shifted around him, as though the forest bowed just slightly to his presence.

But then why had his voice trembled just slightly when he'd said, "I've been watching you for a while now, Selene. I've been waiting."

That wasn't the voice of a manipulator.

That was the voice of someone who had waited too long, who had seen too much.

A twig snapped behind her.

Selene's breath caught.

She turned sharply, but it was only Lyra, her blonde hair wild from running, cheeks flushed.

"There you are!" Lyra panted, hands on her knees. "We've been looking everywhere. Are you okay?"

Selene blinked, her body still full of static, her pulse racing from more than just surprise. "I needed air."

Lyra stepped closer, then paused, frowning. "You've got that look again."

"What look?"

"The look you get when you're thinking too much. Or hiding something."

Selene shook her head. "It's nothing."

"Is it about him?" Lyra asked, voice softening. "Lucian?"

Selene's silence was answer enough.

Lyra knelt beside her, eyes flicking with worry. "He spoke to you, didn't he?"

Selene exhaled slowly, curling her fingers into the bark beside her. "Yeah. He did."

"And?"

"He said... he's been watching me. That there's something different about me. Something special."

Lyra's brows lifted. "Well, he's not wrong."

Selene scoffed quietly. "You don't even know what that means."

"Maybe not," Lyra admitted. "But I know you. And if he sees what I see, then maybe he's the only one in this pack with clear vision."

Selene looked away, her jaw clenched.

"What do you want, Selene?" Lyra asked after a beat. "From him, I mean."

Selene bit the inside of her cheek. The question wasn't fair. What she wanted was simple. To belong. To be whole. To wake one day and feel the wolf stir beneath her skin like every other member of the pack.

But Lucian wasn't offering that.

Was he?

"I don't know," she said finally. "I don't trust him."

"But?"

"But... I felt something. When he looked at me."

Lyra smiled faintly. "Something good?"

Selene shook her head, lost. "Something... dangerous."

Lyra sat with that a moment, nodding slowly. "Sometimes danger is the only thing strong enough to break what's holding us back."

The words lingered as Selene rose slowly to her feet. Her muscles ached, but the tension in her chest had only grown heavier.

"Come on," Lyra offered. "Everyone's still in the clearing. You can sneak back in with me, if you want. No one has to know where you went."

Selene hesitated. Then nodded. "Okay."

They returned in silence. But as they neared the firelight, Selene felt eyes on her again.

She scanned the crowd.

He wasn't there.

But she could feel him. Somewhere in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Later that night, Selene sat alone outside her cabin, her knees tucked beneath her chin. The moon had risen high, casting silver over the treetops. Her thoughts chased themselves in circles.

Lucian's voice still rang in her ears.

"I want to help you find it."

But why her? Why now?

What did he see that no one else did?

"Selene," came a new voice, one she hadn't expected.

She looked up and saw Elder Jorah, his thick white beard glowing beneath the moonlight.

"Elder," she said, startled. "I didn't know you were awake."

"I rarely sleep on nights like this," he said, easing down beside her. "Too much stirring in the air."

She tensed. "If this is about earlier..."

"It's not," he interrupted gently. "But it is about you."

Selene stared ahead, not trusting herself to speak.

Jorah sighed. "You've always been different, child. The others whisper when they think you can't hear. But I've never believed your wolf isn't there."

Her breath caught. "Then where is it?"

"Hidden. Waiting. Like a flame under glass."

She turned to him. "And if it never comes?"

He placed a gnarled hand over hers. "Then you'll be the first of your kind. And you'll still be worth every breath the Goddess gave you."

Tears pricked her eyes, but she blinked them back.

"Be careful with Lucian," Jorah added after a pause. "He's not what he seems."

"I know," she whispered.

"And yet you're drawn to him."

She nodded.

"Then remember this: sometimes the pull we feel isn't toward safety. It's toward truth. And truth, Selene... is rarely gentle."

She didn't sleep that night. Not really.

Dreams came in flickers, Lucian's eyes, glowing gold. Her own reflection, shifting. Her skin burning as if a second self clawed to the surface.

And in one moment, she heard it, deep, inside her bones.

A growl.

Soft. Distant. Hers.

She shot upright in bed, gasping.

Morning light barely touched the sky.

But the growl hadn't come from a dream.

It had come from within.