My little fierce mate

"Don't think Father loves you because of the treatment it was because of him if not Father would have watched you die outside," Anna said as her lips arched upwards.

I wondered who he was and what was going on there.

She giggled and then left.

Could it be him? Was he back?

He was Raphael the next alpha of the Bloodstone pack, the only one who treated me fairly and equally.

He made sure i was safe from father and sister a lot.

He was the only person I could call a friend.

I must see him immediately, but I looked at myself and decided to freshen up first before heading to his place.

He has been gone for over five years now. He would have changed, wouldn't he? Maybe he would be more muscular and handsome.

I wish he would be my mate because he would be the perfect mate for me and always protect me.

It was late already, and an activity was going on in the pack house.

Oh my gosh, I forgot that today was the annual Bloodstone Ball; it was a ball where werewolves find their mate.

I could find my mate today, but will he accept me?

Me, a wolf-less loser.

But first of all, I decided to look for Raphael in the ballroom.

The ballroom was huge, and it was decorated magnificently in cream. The chandeliers hung from the ceiling.

Shining brightly in the room. I searched for Raphael.

Then, I saw him with my sister, Anna, and they seemed happy. He had grown; his black eyes shone brightly, and his brown hair shimmered against the light.

His body was toned, and he was every girl's dream man.

When I smelled that intoxicating scent in the ballroom, it was coming from Raphael.

He was my freaking mate; it was my dream come true.

He looked in my direction, and he knew I was his mate.

He walked up to me, and I waited for him to accept me as his mate.

But his expression didn't seem right.

His expression was one of utter disgust; his lips curled downward in a scowl.

I felt uneasy; a chilly breeze grazed my arms, and goosebumps appeared on my arms.

"I, Raphael Lockwood, reject you, Ella Livingstone, as my mate." Something in my heart shattered into pieces, and the only one I called a friend, who was also my destined mate, rejected me in front of everyone.

Everyone was laughing at me, amused by my misfortune.

He didn't stop there.

"Did you think we were friends? You? A wolf-less nobody?"

What does he mean?

"It was just a bet that I made with my friends to pity you, and it was tiring to always listen to your rambling." He paused.

I stood there dumbfounded, trying to understand what was going on.

He folded his arms across his chest and seemed to enjoy me breaking.

"If only you had awakened your wolf, you would not be this useless, and you would have at least a standing in the pack." He looked at me with disdain as he said it.

I stood there, frozen, as Raphael's words cut through me like a knife. My mind reeled, trying to process the truth behind his words.

How did I think the next alpha of the Bloodstone pack would be delighted to be my friend?

I could not cry, and I will not let anyone rejoice in seeing me cry.

I have had enough of this place, and I did what I felt I should.

"I, Ella Livingstone, reject you, Raphael Lockwood, as my mate." My words hung in the air.

His arched lips came down; he could not believe I would reject him.

With that, I turned around and left the ballroom.

It took all the strength inside me not to cry there.

I decided to get away from all this chaos in my life; besides, I was never loved here.

After I left the ballroom with my back straight, I ran to my house.

I went to the basement and locked the rusting door.

Not believing that my friend of 7 years was just fake, and a bet was placed on me to show that I was worthless.

I could not hold it back anymore; tears streamed down my face like water.

I grabbed my knees and pulled them together, and folded my arms around them.

I cried for about an hour, and I decided to take everything I could take and go.

I was putting my life in my own hands from now on.

Just maybe I could have a life where I was treated equally and nobody judged me for not awakening my wolf.

I grabbed my worn-out bag, stuffed my few belongings inside, and made my way to the door. The weight of the bag felt heavier than usual, a reminder of the burden I was leaving behind.

Those are what could fit in my bag.

Everything I had was a hand-me-down from Anna.

I slipped away before anyone was back from the ball.

I checked outside if the coast was clear.

The streets were empty; it was dark and unwelcoming, as if to mock me that I would always be alone.

Everyone was at the ball. I took a glance at the house that I stayed in for 19 years of my life from a distance, and there are many hurtful memories here.

It was great that I decided to leave.

I ran in the dark so the guards would not notice me.

I didn't know how long I had run, but I got tired at a point and started walking.

As I walked, the darkness gave way to a faded sign creaking in the wind: 'Welcome to White Cliffs'-a town that seemed as unforgiving as the night itself.

It was late, and my throat was parched. I sought refuge in the night bar, hoping to quench my thirst and clear my racing thoughts.

I saw a night bar from a distance and decided to head in.

I stepped into the night bar, where shadows dance and desires ignite. The air is alive with the pulse of the music, a siren's call that draws you in.

Laughter and whispers swirl around you, a heady mix of excitement and intrigue. Every moment is a chance to unleash your wild side, to let go and lose yourself in the night.

I sat down at a side where no one could see me, and I ordered one of the cheapest drinks there, which was whiskey.

The waiter brought it and placed it on the table.

I poured myself a glass.

I clasp the glass, my fingers trembling slightly as the amber liquid glows in the dim light.

The first sip is a slow burn, the whiskey's warmth spreading down my throat, soothing my frayed nerves.

I feel the tension in my shoulders ease, my breath slowing as the chaos of the night bar recedes.

I sipped more and started to see double and say gibberish.

"WHY DID THIS HAPPEN TO ME?" I screamed, but no one seemed to pay attention to me as they were partying their life out.

A man was walking, and my hands just moved, and I grabbed him.

"Are you going to reject me?" I questioned him.

He raised his eyebrows; his face seemed to be polished straight from jade.

"Answer me," I bit him on the chest, and he growled. Some people in suits wanted to separate me from him, but he told them to back off.

"Princess, I would never reject you," He arched his lips upwards and gave me a million-dollar smile.

"Then accompany me no...no take me to your place," I demanded of him.

"Sure, anything for the lady," The mysterious stranger said.

I looked at him and snorted, and gave him my bag to hold for me.

"What are you still looking at? Let's go," I barked.

He laughed and led me out.

I stumbled while walking, and he held me by the waist and supported me till we got to his car, and his bodyguards opened the door.

WASN'T I AFRAID HE COULD KILL ME?

I looked at him and he smiled.

His smile seemed genuine, but his eyes told another story-something shadowed and unreadable, like he'd lived too many lives in silence. For a moment, I wondered if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.

Or maybe... it was all in my head.

ELLA'S POV

His smile seemed genuine, but his eyes told another story-something shadowed and unreadable, like he'd lived too many lives in silence. For a moment, I wondered if I'd just made the biggest mistake of my life.

Or maybe... it was all in my head.

I couldn't stop looking at him. Every angle of his face seemed carved from contradiction-beauty with danger, calm with chaos. His lips were heart-shaped, soft yet commanding, and my breath caught in my throat as our gazes locked.

Before I realized what I was doing, my fingers reached for him. His skin was warm, firm under my touch. He didn't stop me. That stillness... it was permission.

Then I did the unthinkable. I kissed him.

He kissed me back with the same hunger I'd tried to bury for months-the kind that makes your world tremble and your body forget its pain. Our breaths collided, rough and uneven, and somewhere between his hand cupping my jaw and my heart losing rhythm, I forgot how to think.

The world outside ceased to exist. He lifted me effortlessly from the car, his hold sure and possessive, and carried me into what I barely registered as a mansion. All I saw, all I felt, was him.

The air was heavy with unspoken tension, like something sacred and dangerous had just begun.

When his lips found mine again, the ache in my chest softened into need. His hands roamed carefully, tracing the outline of my hoodie, pausing... waiting. I could feel his restraint battling his desire.

A voice inside me screamed stop. The ghost of Raphael's rejection still lived in me-his words, his coldness, the humiliation. But this stranger... he looked at me like I wasn't broken, like he could rewrite the story.

And maybe that's why I didn't resist.

I let his warmth melt the edges of my fear. Every touch was a question; every breath between us, an answer I wasn't ready to give.

He leaned in, his voice rough but tender, "Are you sure you're okay with this?"

That single question... it disarmed me.

"Do you want me to stop or keep going?" he asked, his gaze searching mine.

My voice came out barely a whisper. "Keep going."

The smile that followed wasn't the wicked smirk of a man used to control-it was soft, almost reverent. "Then promise you'll tell me if you change your mind."

I nodded. My heartbeat was a storm.

When his hand brushed my cheek, I froze again. I didn't know if I was trembling from fear or anticipation. "This is... new," I breathed, almost embarrassed by my honesty.

His expression gentled, the intensity in his eyes flickering into something almost kind. "Then we'll go slow," he said softly. "At your pace."

That sentence-those four words-made me trust him in a way I hadn't trusted anyone in a long time.

I inhaled deeply. "Okay," I whispered.

What followed wasn't wild or careless. It was the kind of intimacy that feels like remembering a dream you thought you'd lost. He didn't rush me. He traced me like he was learning me, like each sigh and hesitation mattered.

And for the first time, I didn't feel like a mistake someone made-I felt seen.

But even in the warmth of it, guilt tugged at me. Why did I crave this so badly? Why did his touch feel like redemption when I barely knew his name?

His breath was hot against my neck, his whispers sinking into my skin. "You're safe," he murmured, as if he could feel my fear even when I didn't voice it.

Somewhere between his heartbeat and mine, I let go.

When I finally drifted into sleep, cocooned in his arms, I didn't know if I'd found peace... or walked into another storm.

~•~•~•

The next morning

Sunlight crept through the curtains, painting gold across my face. I stirred, the weight of reality pressing down before my eyes even opened.

The sheets were soft-too soft. The scent in the air was masculine, expensive, unfamiliar.

Then it hit me.

The night before.

The stranger.

The things I'd done.

A wave of embarrassment rushed through me, so sharp it almost hurt.

I sat up and looked around the room. Everything screamed wealth-the marble floors, the velvet drapes, the chandelier glinting like a thousand secrets.

Where am I?

My heart began to race. Had I been reckless enough to follow a man I barely knew into a mansion?

The sound of running water came from the bathroom. He was still here.

Panic gripped me. I needed to leave before this turned into something I couldn't escape.

I spotted my bag near the corner and my shredded underwear on the floor. Heat flushed my cheeks. What have I done?

I dressed in a hurry, fumbling with trembling hands, and tiptoed toward the door. Every step felt like walking away from a version of myself I didn't recognize.

When I finally found the exit, I didn't look back. I ran-through the marble halls, past the wide doors, until the cold morning air kissed my face.

Outside, the sign said White Cliffs Pack.

My breath hitched.

So that's where I was.

A new place.

A new mistake.

A new beginning.

Maybe fate brought me here... or maybe it was punishment.

Either way, I couldn't shake the haunting thought that lingered as I walked away-

What if I had just given my heart to the one man who could destroy me?

~•~•~•~•

JAKE'S POV

The night had a pulse of its own - low, rhythmic, and predatory.

The kind that makes your blood hum before you understand why.

I shouldn't have been there that night.

The bar wasn't my kind of place anymore - too loud, too mortal, too predictable. But even Lycans need a distraction from the weight of leadership. From the endless faces that bowed, obeyed, and never truly saw me.

And then, she appeared.

Like a storm walking in silence.

A girl in a faded hoodie, eyes burning like wildfire trapped in glass.

Before I could speak, she grabbed my shirt and demanded,

"Are you going to reject me too?"

Her voice trembled - but it wasn't weakness. It was fury born from too many wounds. My guards bristled immediately, ready to drag her out. I raised a hand to stop them. Something in her tone... struck deeper than reason.

"Answer me," she hissed again, eyes glossed with tears and defiance.

My beast stirred. The Lycan within me - the creature that never bows - went quiet. Watching her.

Why do you smell like fate?

"I would never reject you," I said, because that was the truth my soul already knew, even if my mind didn't.

Her lip quivered. For a moment, she looked like a child lost in a storm. Then, as if embarrassed by her own vulnerability, she straightened. "Then take me with you," she said. "Now."

It wasn't a request. It was survival disguised as command.

I should've said no.

I should've turned around and let my guards escort her away.

But the word no dissolved on my tongue before I could speak it.

Instead, I found myself following her - or maybe she was leading me.

The night outside felt charged, and her heartbeat called to mine in an ancient rhythm I couldn't ignore.

"Sure," I said softly, holding the car door open. "Anything for the lady."

She threw me a glare sharp enough to slice through arrogance.

"What are you staring at? Let's go."

There was something almost divine in her boldness - like a fallen angel who hadn't realized her wings were still burning.

She stumbled when she walked, her knees trembling. I caught her by the waist before she could fall. The moment my hands met her body, something primal inside me... shifted.

Her scent - wild lavender and rain-soaked forest - hit me like lightning.

For a heartbeat, I forgot who I was.

Alpha. King. Predator. None of that mattered.

All I could think was - mine.

My guards opened the door, their eyes questioning. I ignored them, slid into the car beside her, and the silence between us became unbearable.

She was trembling - not in fear, but in exhaustion. The kind of exhaustion that only comes from heartbreak and exile. She wouldn't meet my eyes.

So I didn't push her. I just drove.

When I pulled up in front of my estate, the night was still. The moonlight danced across the marble columns, and the guards at the gate stepped aside immediately. She didn't seem impressed by the grandeur - she barely even looked around.

Her silence said more than any words could.

I parked the car, turned to her, and before I could speak - she moved closer. Her gaze locked onto mine, searching for something, maybe a lie, maybe comfort.

Then her lips brushed mine.

It wasn't a gentle kiss.

It was desperate. Hungry. Reckless.

Like someone who'd spent her whole life locked out of warmth, finally finding it and refusing to let go.

And for the first time in years, I didn't think - I felt.

Her softness. Her defiance. Her trembling breath.

I kissed her back.

She gasped softly against my lips, as though the air itself had turned sacred. And suddenly, reason became a forgotten language.

I lifted her - effortlessly - and carried her through the mansion's hallways. The servants might've seen us, but I didn't care. I'd spent too many years buried in discipline, in rules, in restraint. That night, restraint burned to ash.

The door to my chamber closed behind us with a quiet click, sealing us inside a silence that felt heavier than the world outside.

Her eyes - wide, uncertain, curious - met mine again. For a second, I almost stopped.

Almost.

But she looked at me, and something in that gaze begged to be seen - not as prey, not as possession - but as someone finally allowed to feel.

I brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and she shivered. "If you're uncomfortable, I'll stop," I murmured. "Say the word."

She nodded - small, trembling, but sure. "Keep going," she whispered.

And I did.

Every movement was deliberate, every breath shared, every heartbeat caught between hesitation and surrender. She wasn't used to being touched with care - I could feel it in the way her body flinched before softening.

When she paused, I paused.

When she breathed, I breathed.

It wasn't about dominance - it was about trust.

And she gave it, piece by piece, without realizing she was offering me something far more dangerous than her body.

Her belief.

By the time the night faded into dawn, she was asleep beside me - fragile and perfect in the most human way. I stayed still, her head resting against my arm, and for once, the mansion didn't feel empty.

My mind should've been quiet. But it wasn't.

Who are you?

Why does your presence silence the beast inside me?

And why do I feel... guilty for touching something so breakable?

She murmured in her sleep, soft words I couldn't catch. Her scent clung to my skin, and every inhale felt like a promise I didn't deserve to keep.

When the first sunlight crept through the curtains, I forced myself to move. I brushed my teeth, took a cold shower, tried to drown the remnants of her warmth.

But even the cold couldn't wash her away.

A guard's voice entered my head through the mind-link.

"My Lord, the girl... she's leaving."

Leaving?

For a heartbeat, I considered stopping her. I could've ordered the guards to lock the gates, bring her back, keep her safe. But the thought of caging her - even for her safety - made my chest tighten.

"Let her go," I said, voice low.

If she wanted to leave, she would.

If fate was cruel enough to bring her here, it would be cruel enough to bring her back.

Still, when I looked at the empty side of the bed, the sheets still warm where she'd lain, something inside me ached in a way I didn't want to name.

I sat there for a long time, elbows on my knees, head in my hands.

The Lycan King - undone by a girl with tired eyes and a hoodie.

What was it about her?

Her innocence? Her defiance?

Or the quiet way she made me feel human again?

When I stepped out onto the balcony, the scent of her still lingered in the air. I could almost see her - wandering the streets of the White Cliffs Pack, eyes wide with wonder, unaware that every wolf around her bowed to me.

She had no idea who I was.

And maybe that was why I couldn't forget her.

Everyone feared the king.

But she... she had looked at me like I was just a man.

And somehow, that terrified me more than anything.

I told myself she'd vanish like a fever dream.

That I'd forget her by nightfall.

That I wouldn't crave the sound of her voice or the ghost of her scent in my sheets.

But deep down, I already knew -

The moment I kissed her, something ancient and irreversible had been set in motion.

Fate.

Curse.

Bond.

Whatever it was, it had her name written in my soul.

And even if she tried to run from me...

the moon always brings what's hers back home.