Chapter 6: I'll Find You

Lucian's POV: The vase shatters against the wall. Porcelain explodes into fragments. I stare at the destruction. Feel nothing but hollow rage. "My lord—" The guard at the door shifts nervously. "The search parties have returned. There's still no sign—" "Then send them out again." My voice is too calm. Too quiet. "Double the search radius. Question every wolf within a hundred miles. Someone saw something." "Yes, my lord." He flees. The door closes. Silence crashes in. I sink into the chair by the window. Stare at the cliff edge visible through the trees. The last place I saw her. Emma, choosing death over me. 'She'd rather die than stay.' The thought carves through me like a blade. --- I remember when everything changed. Before Emma, the world was gray. Tasteless. A performance I was forced to watch but never believe. Women threw themselves at me constantly. Beautiful noblewomen with perfect faces and empty eyes. They whispered sweet lies, pressed their bodies against mine, batted their lashes. I felt nothing. Sent them all away. "You need to choose someone," Mother insisted. "Secure an alliance. You can't be Alpha without a Luna—" "Then I won't be Alpha." I meant it. I'd rather have nothing than something false. Then they brought Emma to my chambers. --- I didn't want her there. Didn't ask for another girl to throw herself at me for money or status or whatever her handlers promised her. But the moment she walked through my door— Everything stopped. She was beautiful in a way that hurt to look at. Dark hair falling in waves. Blue eyes that caught lamplight. Delicate features that seemed almost fragile. But it wasn't her beauty that made me freeze. It was the dress. Sheer red silk that hid absolutely nothing. And the way she moved—hesitant but deliberate. Terrified but determined. She was offering herself. Completely. Desperately. I should have sent her away immediately. Should have told whoever sent her that I wasn't interested in paid whores. But I couldn't look away. When she approached with the wine glass, I knocked it from her hands. Tried to be cold. Dismissive. She didn't leave. Instead, she reached for me. Trembling hands touching my shoulder. I shoved her back. Too hard. She fell. And the already flimsy dress tore—silk sliding down to expose her breasts completely. My body responded before my mind could catch up. Heat flooding through me. c**k hardening against my will. I stared at her—at her exposed chest, at the way her n*****s hardened in the cool air, at the fear and determination warring in her eyes. "Cover yourself," I managed. My voice was rough. Strained. She didn't move. Just looked up at me with those blue eyes. And I realized—she wasn't going to leave. Wasn't going to run. She was staying. Offering herself despite the fear written all over her face. "I'm staying." Two words that changed everything. I crouched down, bringing my face level with hers. This close, I could smell her—wildflowers and fear and something underneath that made my wolf stir. "You don't know what you're asking for." I grabbed what was left of her dress and tore it completely away. --- I expected her to fight. To scream. She didn't. When I touched her, she gasped—but not in pain. In something else. Something that made my blood burn hotter. When I pushed inside her—tore through her virginity with one brutal thrust—she cried out. But her hands clutched at my shoulders. Pulled me closer instead of pushing away. Mine. I was her first. The first to touch her. The first inside her. The only one who ever would be. I moved harder, driven by possessive need I'd never felt before. And she— She responded. Her body arched beneath mine. Her nails dug into my back. Small sounds escaped her throat that weren't just pain—they were pleasure mixed with hurt, surrender mixed with need. "Look at me," I demanded. She did. Those blue eyes locked with mine—wide and wet and burning. "Say my name." "Lucian—" It came out as a gasp. A plea. I drove deeper. Felt her tighten around me. Felt her whole body shudder. She wanted this. Wanted me. I could feel it in the way she clung to me. The way her body welcomed mine despite the pain. The way she said my name like a prayer. When I finally finished—buried deep inside her with my seed marking her as mine—she was trembling. Crying. But still holding onto me. "Mine," I whispered against her throat. "You're mine now." She didn't argue. Just lay there beneath me, breathing hard. I pulled out carefully. Saw the blood on my sheets. "That was—" I didn't know how to finish. Incredible? Perfect? The most real thing I'd ever experienced? The next day, she changed。 "I need to go now." "What?" "I completed the task." Her voice was small. Defeated. "So I need to go. They promised if I—if I let you take my virginity—they'd let me go home." Understanding crashed over me. "You were paid." My voice went flat. "Forced," she corrected quietly. "They said if I didn't—" She stopped. Swallowed. "It doesn't matter now. I did what they wanted. So I can go." "No." She looked up. Fear flickering across her face. "You're not going anywhere. You think you can just—just do that and then leave?" "But —" My voice rose despite myself. "You came to my chambers. You threw yourself at me. You begged me to take you. And now—now you want to just walk away?" Her eyes widened. "I didn't beg—" "You stayed when I told you to leave. You let me tear your clothes off. You held onto me while I f****d you." The crude words made her flinch. Good. Let her understand. "You responded to my touch. I felt you—felt how much you wanted it despite everything." "I was completing a task—" "You were mine!" The word exploded out. "The moment you let me inside you—the moment you gave me your virginity—you became mine. And I don't let go of what's mine." Tears streamed down her face. "Please—I just want to go home—" "You did this." I couldn't look at her. Couldn't bear to see those blue eyes pleading. "You walked into my chambers half-naked. You let me touch you. You made me feel—" I stopped. Breathed. "This is your choice. Live with it." The guards took her away. Her protests echoing down the hallway. I stood alone in my chambers, staring at the blood-stained sheets. For the first time in years, I'd felt something real. Something that made the gray world burst into color. And she wanted to leave. I wouldn't let her go. Couldn't. Even if she hated me for it. --- Six months. Six months of keeping her. Trying to make her understand. She fought. Refused to eat. To bathe. Made herself as unappealing as possible. It didn't work. I still wanted her. Still couldn't stay away. I tried to be better. Brought her gifts. Spoke gently. Tried to show her this wasn't just possession—it was something deeper. But I didn't know how to explain what I felt. Didn't have words for the way she made everything sharp and real and alive. So I just kept taking her. Night after night. Trying to make her feel what I felt. Trying to make her understand through touch what I couldn't say with words. Sometimes—sometimes I thought I saw something in her eyes. Something that wasn't just hatred or fear. But she never said it. Never gave me what I needed to hear. And now she's gone. Jumped off a cliff rather than spend one more day with me. 'She's not dead. She can't be dead.' No body in the rocks. No trace downstream. Someone saved her. Had to have. 'Which means she's out there somewhere. Alive. Free.' The thought brings relief and agony in equal measure. I close my eyes. See her face as she was that first night—terrified but determined, offering herself despite everything. 'You made me love you, Emma. You walked into my chambers and set fire to my world. And then you tried to leave.' I won't let that stand. "Tomorrow morning, assemble the army and depart for the Silvermoon Pack," I ordered my subordinates. I couldn't wait to see if my little bird had flown back to her nest. "I'll find you," I whisper to the empty room. However long it takes. Wherever you've gone. Even if I have to burn down the world.