The warning came too late.
A ripple tore through the forest like a wrong note in a familiar song—sharp, violent, intrusive. The wards along the territory's edge screamed as they shattered, moonlight flaring bright enough to blind.
Theron's head snapped up.
"Aiden—"
But Aiden had already moved.
The ground shook as figures burst from the treeline—five, no, seven—wolves half-shifted, marked with sigils burned into their skin. Not rogues. Not fully.
Hunters.
The pack exploded into motion, snarls ripping through the night. Alphas surged forward, betas forming ranks, claws flashing silver under the moon.
And instinct—ancient, brutal—roared through the bond.
Theron stepped in front of Aiden without thinking.
"No," Aiden said sharply.
Theron froze.
Aiden's hand hit his chest—not weak, not pleading. Commanding.
"Do not put me behind you."
The words landed like a strike.
Theron turned, golden eyes blazing. "This isn't—"
"I know exactly what this is," Aiden snapped, already shifting.
Not in panic.
Not in fear.
Black fur poured over him like ink spilled into moonlight, his body stretching, reforming—leaner than an alpha, yes, but coiled with lethal intent. His eyes burned a vivid, icy blue.
An omega.
But not prey.
The first hunter lunged.
Aiden met him head-on.
The impact cracked through the clearing as Aiden ducked low, rolled under snapping jaws, and came up slashing—not wild, not frantic, but precise. His claws tore across the hunter's flank, ripping deep enough to spray blood across the leaves.
Gasps rippled through the pack.
"He—"
"That's an omega?"
Aiden didn't hear them.
He was already moving again.
A second attacker tried to flank him—big, broad, alpha-built—but Aiden pivoted, using speed over strength. He leapt, twisted mid-air, and locked onto the hunter's shoulder, teeth sinking in hard.
Not a claim.
A kill move.
The hunter howled as Aiden tore free, landing cleanly and shoving the larger wolf into the path of a charging beta, sending both crashing into the dirt.
Theron felt it then.
Not fear.
Pride.
The bond blazed hot and fierce, thrumming with approval and something dangerously close to awe.
Aiden fought like someone who had survived—not sheltered, not spared. Every movement carried memory: old bruises, old battles, a life spent proving he could stand.
A hunter aimed for Theron.
Aiden saw it.
He didn't shout.
He moved.
He slammed into the attacker's side with brutal force, knocking them off course before they could strike the Alpha King. His shoulder took the hit meant for Theron, fur splitting, blood blooming dark.
Theron's snarl split the night.
White fire tore through the clearing as he shifted fully, godlight leaking through his fur. He ended two hunters in seconds—efficient, merciless.
But it was Aiden the pack watched.
Because even injured, Aiden didn't retreat.
He snarled and advanced.
The last hunter hesitated.
A mistake.
Aiden lunged, faster than anyone expected, drove the wolf to the ground, and pinned them there—claws at the throat, teeth bared inches from flesh.
He didn't kill them.
He leaned in and growled.
Low. Controlled. Terrifying.
"Run," Aiden rumbled.
The hunter scrambled free and fled, terror bleeding off him in waves.
Silence fell.
Breathing. Blood. Moonlight.
Slowly, Aiden shifted back, black fur receding, human form emerging—shirt torn, skin marked, eyes still burning with adrenaline.
The pack stared.
Not with pity.
Not with dismissal.
With something closer to awe—and unease.
"Oh," one beta whispered. "He's… dangerous."
Aiden turned, chest heaving, eyes sweeping over them. There was no apology in his gaze. No need to explain.
Theron stepped to his side.
Not in front.
Beside.
He placed a hand on Aiden's back, steady and grounding.
"That," Theron said calmly, his voice carrying across the clearing, "is my omega."
No qualifiers.No softening words.
Aiden lifted his chin, blood on his hands, pain in his bones—and didn't look away from anyone.
The pack bowed their heads.
Not because he was claimed.
But because they finally understood:
Aiden wasn't protected because he was weak.
He was protected because if unleashed—
He would tear the world apart.
The den was quiet again.
Too quiet.
Moonlight filtered through the stone opening, pale and heavy, painting silver along the walls. Aiden sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders sore, skin still humming from the fight earlier. Every breath felt like it carried weight—expectation, aftermath, something unfinished.
Theron stood near the far wall.
He hadn't shifted, but the other presence was there.
It always was, when he stopped holding it back.
The air thickened, charged. Not alpha dominance—not rut—but something older. Deeper. The moonlight bent subtly toward him, as if listening. As if recognizing its own.
Aiden swallowed.
"Theron…" His voice was steady, but his wolf stirred, restless. "You're doing it again."
Theron exhaled slowly and turned.
For a heartbeat, his eyes weren't gold or silver—but something layered. Endless. Ancient. The god behind the king looking through the same familiar face.
"I'm trying not to," Theron said quietly. "But the pull is stronger tonight."
Aiden frowned. "Because of the fight?"
"Yes." A pause. Then, honest and bare: "Because of you."
He stepped closer, slow, deliberate, giving Aiden time to pull away.
Aiden didn't.
Theron stopped just short of touching him. Close enough that Aiden could feel the heat rolling off him, smell the bond—warm, steady, home.
"There's a cost to using that power," Theron continued, voice low. "To calling on what I am. The god side doesn't take freely."
Aiden's brow creased. "Then don't."
Theron's lips curved, faint and tired. "That's the thing."
He lifted his hand—but didn't touch. Just hovered near Aiden's jaw, giving him the choice.
"Only the taste of my mate can cure me."
The words weren't a command.
They were a confession.
Aiden's breath caught. His wolf surged forward—not in submission, not in heat—but in recognition. In want. His ears flicked before he could stop them.
"That's unfair," Aiden muttered, though his hand had already risen, fingers curling into Theron's shirt.
Theron leaned down just enough that their foreheads brushed. "I won't touch you if you say no."
Aiden laughed softly, shaky and real. "You always say that like you think I will."
Silence stretched between them, warm and heavy.
Then Aiden tilted his head up.
"Then stop hovering," he said quietly. "Or I'm going to make the choice for you."
That did it.
Theron's restraint cracked—not violently, not desperately—but completely. He gathered Aiden close, careful despite the urgency, as if even now he refused to forget the healer's words, the bruises, the man in his arms.
The moonlight flared once—
And the den door closed behind them.
They kiss, not soft, not the kind of romantic kiss that gave butterfly in the belly, no it was deeper, the kind that made Aiden head spin and his instinct go wild, Theron let his tongue move into Aiden mouth and Aiden didn't try to stop it.
His tail and ears pop out, tail wagging furiously, pulling back only to kiss Theron jawline "are you going to be an bad wolf?"
Theron laugh and push Aiden down into the bed pulling off his clothes and letting it fall shamelessly to the floor "worse, i'm going to be an bad god"
He lean down over his mate, pulling Aiden shirt up, sticking his tongue out "you dare!" Aiden growl gasping as Theron lick him from his navel to his chest, letting his mouth surrender Aiden nipple, sucking just enough to make Aiden arch his back.
Aiden pheromones begin to feel the den, "asshole..." Aiden growl yet his tail wag just as hard as before.
Theron smirk and lick the nipple "really? you seem to like it" Aiden growl but was cut off by an surpise inhale as his pants was suddenly pull down.
"look at that, you really like it, huh?"
"just, shut up and put you three-leg inside of me" Aiden growl hiding his face in his arm.