{ Mia }
The silence stretched too long.
Too tight.
Lucian didn't move, but I felt his control like a wall—solid, furious, barely holding. The white wolf across from us stood just as still, head high, eyes fixed, waiting for an answer he already believed he deserved.
Something inside me twisted.
If I stayed silent any longer, this would turn into a claim.
A fight.
A war.
I stepped forward.
Lucian snapped his head toward me. "Mia—"
"I've got this," I said quietly.
The moment my paw touched the ground ahead of him, the forest reacted.
Energy surged up from deep inside my chest—not hot, not cold, but alive. It rushed through my limbs like lightning finding a path, and my fur bristled violently, spiking outward in sharp white waves. Gold bled through the snow-bright coat, threading between each strand like veins of light.
The air warped.
Leaves lifted off the forest floor. Lanterns in the distant village flickered wildly. Wolves gasped—actually gasped—as pressure rolled outward in a visible pulse.
I didn't raise my voice.
"This girl," I said, each word vibrating with power that wasn't wolf,
"has not stepped foot in this land."
The white wolf's eyes narrowed, sharp and calculating now.
"If she does," I continued, staring straight at him,
"I'll contact you."
The forest exhaled.
For a fraction of a second, I thought that would be enough.
Then he shook his head slowly.
"No," he said.
One word. Calm. Absolute.
"I'll stay," he went on. "Until she arrives." His gaze flicked briefly to the ground, to the wind, to the air itself. "I can feel it. She's close."
Lucian moved instantly, stepping forward, his Alpha pressure slamming down so hard the ground seemed to dip.
"You will not," Lucian snarled. "This is my territory. You don't wait here. You leave."
The white wolf finally bared his teeth—not in a snarl, but in grim resolve.
"I'm not afraid of you," he said evenly. "And I'm not wrong."
Something snapped inside me.
Not fear.
Not anger.
Decision.
The gold around me flared brighter—violent now, uncontrolled, cracking through the air like thunder trapped under skin. The ground beneath my paws splintered, fine cracks spiderwebbing outward.
Lucian felt it.
"Mia," he warned, low and urgent.
But it was too late.
I thrust my paws forward.
The power didn't burn.
It hit.
A wave of pure force ripped through the clearing, invisible but devastating. It slammed into the white wolf mid-step, lifting him clean off the ground like he weighed nothing.
He flew.
Trees snapped as he crashed through them, earth exploding beneath his body as he hit the ground hard enough to leave a shallow crater. The sound echoed through the forest like a gunshot.
Silence.
Absolute.
The village—every single wolf—froze in shock.
No growls.
No movement.
No breathing.
Because wolves didn't do that.
Lucian stared at me, stunned—not afraid, not angry—unprepared.
The white wolf pushed himself up slowly, clearly shaken now. Dirt streaked his fur. His breath came heavier. When he lifted his head, his eyes were locked on me—not with possession.
With disbelief.
"…What," he said quietly, "was that?"
I didn't answer.
I stood there, fur still glowing faintly gold, chest rising and falling, power humming just beneath my skin like it was waiting to be used again.
Around us, the wolves backed away instinctively, heads lowering—not to Lucian.
To me.
Lucian stepped forward at last, placing himself half in front of me, half beside me. His voice was iron.
"You're done here."
The white wolf didn't argue this time.
He looked at Lucian once. Then at me.
And for the first time since he'd appeared, uncertainty crossed his face.
"This isn't over," he said quietly.
Lucian didn't blink. "No. It isn't."
The white wolf turned and vanished into the forest, his scent retreating—but not gone.
Not forgotten.
The clearing stayed frozen long after he disappeared.
I finally let the power sink back into me, my fur slowly settling, the gold fading until I was just white again—just a wolf standing in a stunned village that had never seen anything like me.
I swallowed hard.
Lucian looked down at me, voice low, unreadable.
"…We need to talk."
And for once—
I agreed.