The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 28: Into the wild

The forest was quiet except for the steady rhythm of her horse’s hooves and the low rustle of leaves in the wind. Aveloria hadn’t planned on going this far, but the deeper she went, the lighter her chest felt. The palace was far behind her now, its lights no longer visible through the thick trees. For once, there was no guard, watchful eyes, or duty pressing against her shoulders.

She slowed her horse to a walk, letting the cool air wash her face. The night was silent. She was close to the borders—maybe too close—but she didn’t care. She needed to breathe without anyone telling her how she should act or what she should feel.

She was about to urge the horse forward again when she felt it.

A shift in the air. The kind that made her wolf lift its head and growl softly in warning. A shadow moved between the trees, silent and deliberate. Her pulse quickened. She pulled on the reins, scanning the darkness. The moonlight caught on something metallic, an earring, a buckle, she couldn’t tell, but the voice came.

"It’s dangerous out here, Heiress."

Her heart jumped. The voice was smooth, low, and unmistakably familiar.

Lucien stepped out from the shadows. He looked as he always did—dangerous, calm, and maddeningly confident. His hair fell just above his eyes, his jaw unshaven, and his clothes fit him like they were made for travel and seduction all at once. The tension in his shoulders gave away the fighter beneath the casual appearance.

"What are you doing here?" Aveloria asked, her tone sharper than intended.

He smiled. "I could ask you the same."

"I’m not the one sneaking through royal borders," she replied.

Lucien took a few steps closer, his boots crunching softly over the dried leaves. "You’re also not the one riding alone through territory crawling with Wanderers." His eyes flicked toward her horse, then back to her face. "Not a wise move, Aveloria."

"I can take care of myself."

He tilted his head, the faint smirk never leaving his face. "You say that like it’s supposed to reassure me."

She frowned, irritated by his tone. "You have no right to question me. You’re not even supposed to be here."

"And yet," he said casually, spreading his hands, "here I am."

Aveloria’s wolf stirred uneasily under her skin, reacting to his presence the same way it always did. She was drawn to him in a way that felt right and infuriating.

She crossed her arms. "Did you follow me?"

"Follow is a strong word," he said, his eyes glinting. "Let’s just say I was passing through and caught a familiar scent."

Her glare hardened. "My scent?"

"The scent of destiny," he corrected smoothly, though the teasing edge in his voice made her roll her eyes.

"Destiny?" she repeated. "You make it sound like you didn’t plan this."

He grinned. "Maybe I didn’t. Maybe the moon has excellent timing."

"You’re impossible."

"I’ve been called worse."

She sighed, giving up the argument before it started. "You shouldn’t be here, Lucien. If my father finds out—"

"Your father won’t," he interrupted easily. "I came alone. No one knows."

Her eyes narrowed. "That doesn’t make it better."

"It makes it safer," he countered. "The fewer people who know I’m here, the better."

Aveloria studied him, noticing the slight tiredness around his eyes. It wasn’t just the usual arrogance tonight. There was something else, concern, maybe.

"How long have you been in Lycanthria?" she asked.

"A few days," he said. "I’ve been keeping to the shadows. Didn’t want to start a diplomatic incident."

"That would’ve been nice of you...If you weren’t trespassing."

Lucien laughed softly. "You sound like a queen already."

Her lips twitched despite herself. "Flattery won’t distract me."

"It wasn’t flattery. Just an observation." He moved closer again until he stood beside her horse. His eyes met hers, sharp and unreadable. "You still haven’t told me why you’re out here alone."

"I couldn’t sleep," she said. "The nightmares haven’t stopped."

Lucien’s expression softened slightly. "You should’ve called for me."

"I couldn’t," she said. "You’re not allowed in the palace without the King’s permission."

"Since when has that ever stopped me?"

She hesitated, her heart skipping. "Did you enter the palace recently?"

He didn’t answer immediately, telling her everything she needed to know.

"You did," she said, her voice quiet. "You came when I was unconscious."

Lucien’s eyes met hers again, steady and unashamed. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I needed to see you," he said honestly. "I couldn’t feel your strength anymore through the bond. It terrified me."

Her throat tightened. "You shouldn’t have risked it."

"I didn’t care," he said. "They would’ve killed me if they found out, but it wouldn’t have mattered."

She looked away, unsure how to respond. His honesty hit harder than any charm he could’ve used. "And now?" she asked after a long pause. "Why are you here tonight?"

He shrugged lightly. "I told you. I followed the scent of destiny."

"Lucien."

"Fine," he said, his smirk fading. "I wanted to see you. I’ve heard whispers about what happened, the poison, the council, your wolf. I needed to see for myself that you were all right."

"And what do you see now?"

He reached up and placed a hand over her horse’s reins, steadying the animal as it shifted restlessly. "I see someone pretending she’s fine when she isn’t."

Her chest tightened. "You don’t know what I’m feeling."

"Actually, I do," he said quietly. "The bond doesn’t lie."

She shook her head. "That bond is suffocating."

"It’s not the bond," he said. "It’s fear. You’re scared of what it means to feel this deeply."

Her eyes snapped to his. "You’re wrong."

"Am I?" he asked softly. "Then why do you keep running from it?"

She didn’t answer. Instead, she dismounted, needing space. But he followed, moving with that same silent grace that always made her uneasy.

"You shouldn’t have come," she said again, though her voice had lost its edge.

"Maybe not," he said, "but you don’t seem too eager to make me leave."

She turned sharply, glaring. "You think everything’s a game, don’t you?"

"Only when you make it one."

She exhaled sharply, tired of the back and forth. "I don’t have time for this."

Lucien’s hand caught her arm gently before she could walk away. "Then make time," he said.

She froze, her heart beating too fast. His hand was warm, grounding. For a moment, neither of them moved.

Then she said quietly, "You don’t belong here, Lucien."

He smiled faintly. "Neither do you, if we’re being honest."

Her lips parted, but no words came. He was right. The court, the council, and the politics were starting to suffocate her. She could breathe out here for the first time in weeks.

Lucien released her arm, overseeing her. "You were planning to ride into the wild, weren’t you?"

She looked down. "Just for a little while."

"Then I’ll come with you."

"That’s not a good idea."

"Since when have good ideas ever stopped us?" he said, already moving toward her horse.

Before she could protest, he placed one hand on the saddle and vaulted up effortlessly, settling behind her. The move was so smooth it almost startled her.

"Lucien—"

He leaned slightly forward, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath near her ear. "Relax. I’ll keep you safe."

She swallowed hard, trying to focus. "You’re unbelievable."

"So I’ve been told."

She shook her head, but the corner of her mouth twitched in reluctant amusement. "You don’t listen, do you?"

"Not when it comes to you."

She turned slightly, meeting his eyes over her shoulder. There was no arrogance in his gaze now, only quiet certainty. freewёbnoνel.com

He nodded toward the open stretch of forest ahead. "Let’s go, Heiress."

Aveloria hesitated, but her wolf stirred eagerly, drawn to his calm. Against her better judgment, she clicked her tongue, and the horse started moving.

They rode together into the wild, the cool air rushing past them. Lucien’s hands rested lightly on the reins beside hers, never too close, but his presence filled every inch of space between them. She didn’t feel alone for the first time in a long while.

Neither of them spoke for several minutes. The sound of the horse’s hooves and the rustling leaves filled the silence. Finally, Lucien broke it.

"You really should stop running off without telling anyone," he said.

"You really should stop following me." fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

"I told you, I don’t follow," he said. "I find."

She rolled her eyes. "You’re insufferable."

"And yet," he said with a grin, "you haven’t pushed me off this horse."

She didn’t respond, though the faintest smile touched her lips.

They rode until the trees opened to a clearing, the moonlight spreading across the grass. Aveloria slowed the horse to a stop.

Lucien swung down first, then extended a hand to help her dismount. She ignored it and slid down alone, earning a chuckle from him.

"You really don’t make it easy for anyone, do you?" he asked.

"I don’t owe anyone easy," she replied.

He looked at her for a long moment, then said softly, "No, you don’t."

The air between them shifted again. This time, it was not tense, just quiet and honest.

Lucien stepped closer but didn’t touch her. "Next time you decide to run," he said, "at least let me know. I’d rather ride with you than chase after your scent through dangerous woods."

Aveloria gave a slight nod. "Maybe."

He smirked. "I’ll take that as a yes."

She looked away, pretending not to smile. "You’re impossible."

"I know."

And for the first time that night, she laughed. Lucien’s eyes softened at the sound. He didn’t push for more. They stood side by side in the clearing, and the night was calm. Everything else, palace, duty, pain faded for a brief moment.

It was just them.