The Wolf's Queen Vows

Chapter 29: The fire inside her

Aveloria had not expected Lucien to be this easy to be around. For days now, she had been tense and guarded, her walls high enough to shut anyone, including her mates. But with Lucien, it was different. He had a calm arrogance about him that was hard to resist. He never pressured her to speak but always seemed to know what she was thinking.

Lucien glanced at her with that smug grin she was beginning to recognize too well. "You know, you ride better than I thought."

She rolled her eyes, fighting a small smile. "Is that supposed to be a compliment?"

"It’s the best one you’ll get from me today," he teased.

"You’re so vain."

He chuckled, clearly enjoying the banter. "And yet, you are still standing next to me. Makes me wonder if you secretly like my company."

Aveloria gave him a look, pretending to be annoyed. "Don’t flatter yourself."

"Too late," he replied easily. "I already decided I’m your favorite."

She let out a chuckle. "You’re not even close."

"Really?" He leaned closer, his tone dropping low. "Tell me one of them who makes you laugh like I do."

She opened her mouth to answer, but stopped. It was true; Lucien had a way of disarming her. Marek’s presence made her heart ache; Theron’s made her cautious; Galen’s steadiness comforted her. But Lucien? He brought something else that made her chest feel light, even when her world was heavy.

"You’re impossible," she muttered.

"And yet, you’re smiling," he said again, grinning.

They walked a little longer in silence before she finally spoke again. "Lucien...I was thinking maybe you should come back with me to the palace. I could speak to my father about it. You could stay, officially this time."

Lucien’s expression shifted. He stopped on the track to look at her. "That’s not something I can do," he said.

"Why not?" she asked, turning to face him.

"Because stepping into Lycanthria without claiming you would start a war," he said. "Your father might tolerate my presence as your mate, but the council won’t. Not unless the bond is sealed."

Her breath caught. "Claim me?"

He nodded, watching her closely. "That’s the only way I can walk into your world without being hunted or questioned. Once the bond is fully sealed, no one can deny my right to stand beside you."

Aveloria’s pulse quickened. Claiming wasn’t foreign; every wolf knew what it meant. But hearing it from him made something stir deep within her.

"Lucien..." she whispered, unsure what to say.

His eyes softened. "Don’t worry. I won’t force anything. I can’t stay there unless it’s real. And right now, you’re not ready for that."

She nodded slowly, though her chest felt tight. But before she could say another word, something inside her shifted. It started like a faint heat beneath her skin, then spread fast, an ache, a pull she couldn’t fight. Her wolf stirred violently, claws raking at her insides.

Lucien stopped mid-sentence, his eyes narrowing. He sniffed the air lightly, his body tensing. "Aveloria," he said, voice low. "You’re in heat."

Her breathing quickened. "What?"

"It’s your first one since the awakening," he said quietly. "You’ve been holding it back for too long. It’s hitting you now."

The warmth inside her turned into a fire. She felt dizzy, her vision hazy. Her breath was filled with his scent, sharp, dark, and intoxicating. Her wolf whined, desperate and needy.

"Lucien..." she breathed, her voice trembling.

He swallowed hard, clearly trying to control himself. "You need to go back to the palace. Now."

But she couldn’t. The pull toward him was too strong. She tried to reach him, her legs barely steady.

"Aveloria, you—"

She didn’t let him finish. She closed the distance between them in two steps and pressed her body against his. Her hands slid up his chest, her breath uneven. "Please," she whispered, eyes burning with want. "I can’t stand this. I need you to make it stop."

Lucien’s jaw tightened. His hands came up to her shoulders, gripping her gently but firmly. "You don’t know what you’re asking for."

"Yes, I do," she said, voice breaking. "Please, Lucien."

The bond between them snapped tight. He could feel her need as if it were his own. He fought it, but his control began to slip when her lips touched his.

Their mouths met, hungry and desperate. Her fingers dug into his shirt, pulling him closer, and he responded with the same intensity, his hand sliding to her waist, holding her steady. The kiss deepened, breaths mingling, every movement raw and unrestrained.

Aveloria’s wolf clawed beneath her skin, urging her to claim what was hers. She broke the kiss only to kiss him again, his jaw, neck, and throat line. Lucien groaned softly, his restraint crumbling by the second.

Her body pressed against his, her lips trailing heat over his skin. "Lucien..." she whispered again, almost begging. "Take me. Please."

His breath hitched. For a second, it looked like he might give in. His hands gripped her waist, his eyes burning with desire. Then he froze.

"No," he said roughly, pulling back just enough to look at her. "Not here."

She blinked, confused, her body trembling. "Why not?"

"This isn’t the place," he said, his voice unsteady. "You deserve better than the forest floor and regret in the morning."

Her heart pounded. "Regret? You think I’ll regret this?"

He didn’t answer immediately. His eyes searched hers, conflicted and pained. "You’re not thinking clearly. It’s the heat talking."

She stepped back, breathing hard, anger and desire tangled together. "You always have an excuse, don’t you? You talk about claiming me, but can’t even touch me when I want you."

He ran a hand through his hair, trying to stay calm. "I want you, Aveloria. You have no idea how much. But not like this."

Her chest rose and fell sharply. "Then when?"

"When it’s real," he said quietly. "When you’re mine because you choose it, not because the bond or your heat made you desperate."

Her throat tightened. She turned away, blinking fast, trying to hide the sting in her eyes. "Maybe you’re just afraid," she said bitterly. "Maybe you’re not as strong as you pretend to be."

He exhaled slowly. "You can believe whatever makes it easier, but the truth is, I’d rather wait than touch you for the wrong reason."

She couldn’t take it anymore. The emotions, the ache, the rejection—it was too much. She turned, storming back toward her horse.

Lucien tried to speak again and reached out. "Aveloria, wait, there’s something you need to know. The Wanderers—"

"Save it," she snapped, climbing onto her horse. "I don’t care right now." freēwebnovel.com

Before he could speak, she kicked the horse into motion and rode off, hooves echoing through the forest.

Her anger had cooled into exhaustion when she reached the palace gates. Her wolf still paced beneath her skin, restless and unsatisfied. She didn’t even think about going to her chambers. Her feet carried her instinctively toward one place—Galen’s residence.

The guards greeted her with deep bows, but she didn’t respond. She walked straight through the courtyard, her steps fast and sure.

Galen was in his study when she burst in, reading through some old scrolls. He stood immediately, surprise flashing across his face. "Aveloria? What are you—"

Before he could finish, she grabbed him by the collar and kissed him. It wasn’t soft or cautious. It was a collision of frustration, confusion, and need. Galen froze for a second, caught off guard, but the moment he felt the tremor in her hands, he responded instinctively, his arms circling her waist.

The kiss deepened, and Aveloria pressed closer, desperate to drown the chaos inside her. For a moment, she didn’t think; she just felt.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both breathing hard.

Galen’s eyes searched her face, worried. "What happened?"

She shook her head, unable to speak. Her throat felt tight, her heart racing. "Just...don’t ask," she whispered.

He studied her for a moment, then nodded slowly. "Alright."

He didn’t push her for answers. Instead, he guided her to sit, handed her a cup of water, and sat beside her silently.

Aveloria took the cup, her hands trembling slightly. The silence stretched between them, heavy but oddly comforting.

After a while, she whispered, "I’m sorry." frёeωebɳovel.com

"You don’t have to be," Galen said gently. "You’ve been through too much."

She looked at him, then really looked. His face was calm, his eyes steady, but there was something deeper there, too. Something that looked a lot like longing.

"Galen..." she started, but he shook his head.

"Not tonight," he said softly. "You need rest."

She nodded weakly, leaning back against the chair. The ache began to fade for the first time since the heat started.

And as the night grew quiet, she realized how lost she felt—caught between what she wanted, feared, and couldn’t yet admit.