Lycan — 31 (Patreon)

Hello everyone! today's chapter is a bit longer than usual, so i hope you all enjoy it!

The air was thick with moisture and unease as Y/N made her way through the winding back path behind the smoothie shop. The sun was dipping low behind the hills, painting the town of Alsfield in gold and gray. She’d left Harry a vague note about needing time. She didn’t say where. She couldn’t.

Because she was going to see him.

Aiden had been lingering again—watching her too closely. She couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted her to follow, and tonight she did.

She found him at the edge of the treeline near an old shed, leaning against a rusted fence like he’d been waiting forever. He straightened when he saw her.

“Y/N,” he said, voice like velvet over broken glass. “You came.”

“I want answers,” she said, keeping her distance. “Why do you know things no one else does?”

Aiden didn’t respond right away. He tilted his head, eyes scanning her face like he was reading it.

“You look like her,” he said softly.

Y/N stiffened. “Like who?”

“Your mother.”

Her heart twisted.

“You knew her?”

He smiled—nostalgic and sad. “Not the way you’re thinking. She was a good woman. Too good for the man she married. She tried to protect you. But there are things you were never told.”

Y/N’s blood ran cold. “What kind of things?”

Aiden stepped forward, but not too close. “Your father was involved in something. Something that had nothing to do with your mother—and everything to do with you. That symbol carved into his chest wasn’t random. It was a mark, a message… meant for a bloodline.”

“My bloodline,” she whispered.

He nodded. “You weren’t supposed to grow up in Alsfield. Not with him. There were people—powerful people—who knew what you were, what you could become. But she ran. Your mother ran to save you. She thought hiding in plain sight was enough.”

“And what am I?”

Aiden didn’t answer. Instead, he looked over his shoulder toward the woods.

“You should go back,” he said. “They’ll come looking for you. Especially him.”

“Harry,” she muttered.

His smile returned, sharp this time. “Ah, the Alpha.”

“Why are you here, Aiden?” Her voice shook. “What do you want from me?”

His eyes burned into hers. “I want to make sure history doesn’t repeat itself. You think the enemy is the rogue in the shadows. It’s not.”

He turned to leave, his figure already fading into the shadows.

“Wait!” Y/N called. “What did my father do?”

Aiden paused.

“Everything he wasn’t supposed to.”

And then he was gone.

Y/N stood frozen in place, the last echo of Aiden’s footsteps swallowed by the trees behind him. Her heart pounded, but it wasn’t just from the encounter—it was from the unease curling deep in her chest. Something about the way he spoke… it felt too crafted. Too clean.

“You think the enemy is the rogue in the shadows. It’s not.”

Then why did it feel like she’d just been standing in the shadow of the real danger?

She walked back slowly, eyes darting toward every shifting branch and rustling bush. Her fingers itched to write everything down, to try to make sense of it, but the moment she saw the pack house come into view, the weight of her choices hit her like a stone wall.

She had lied to Harry. Again.

She crossed the threshold as silently as she could, hoping no one noticed. But Zion did. She felt him before she saw Harry—tense, growling low in Harry’s mind, unsettled by the strange storm of emotion trailing behind her.

And Harry was waiting.

He stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed, eyes sharp. “Hey,” he said flatly, holding out the smoothie she’d left on the porch.

Y/N took it carefully. “Thanks.”

“You disappeared.”

“I just needed air.”

Zion stirred louder in his head. She’s hiding something. Her scent— it changed.

Harry stared at her a second longer. “Who were you talking to by the shop?”

Y/N blinked. “No one.”

His jaw tensed.

“Zion heard a voice. Yours... and a man’s.”

Her throat tightened. She looked down. “You must’ve misheard.”

“You forget I’m not just listening with my ears.”

She forced a casual smile. “Maybe someone passing by. I wasn’t paying attention.”

Harry didn’t answer. The silence stretched, heavy and unbearable. Zion was pacing now, clawing at the edges of Harry’s control, desperate to force a truth from her that Harry wasn’t ready to hear.

Finally, Harry nodded—once. Cold. Distant. “Get some rest,” he said. “We have another early patrol tomorrow.”

He turned and walked away.

Y/N didn’t stop him.

Harry sat at the edge of the long oak table in his office, the files from Michaela spread out like pieces of a war map. Outside, the moon loomed low, casting a ghostly glow across the pack lands. The others had gone to bed—everyone but him and Zion.

“She’s lying.”

“She’s scared.”

“She’s protecting him.”

The wolf's voice was relentless, pushing past every excuse Harry had tried to build in her defense. But each time he’d tried to calm Zion down, Harry came back to the same conclusion: Zion was right.

“Who are you?” Harry whispered under his breath as he pulled up the map of the territory and pinned it beside the file on Robert’s body. The symbol carved into the flesh hadn’t matched anything in their own history — not from the Shadow Pack. But something about the curve of the sigil felt familiar.

Harry flipped open his laptop and pulled up Iron Claw’s shared rogue report database. Axel had given him access last year for cross-territory incidents. He entered a few search terms:

Unidentified males — brown hair, approx. 6’0”, lean build — near Alsfield.

Nothing.

He tried again.

Suspicious individuals near human settlements — Alsfield perimeter — last 6 months.

A short list appeared.

And there he was.

Aiden Rowe.

Rogue Classification: Low-level, Non-violent (as of last sighting).

Spotted: Once. No affiliation. No origin. No DNA file.

Harry leaned in.

There was a blurry photo attached—grainy surveillance from a gas station just outside pack borders. But it was enough.

That was him. That was the man Y/N had been talking to.

Harry’s heart clenched, a slow rising fire climbing his spine.

Zion growled: “He’s not just a rogue. He’s hiding in plain sight.”

Harry swiped the photo to his phone. He needed to know everything: why Aiden was here, how he knew Y/N’s name, and what he wanted from her. The autopsy report on Robert had shown no defensive wounds—he’d been taken by surprise. That was the work of someone who knew how to move unnoticed.

Someone like Aiden.

Harry stood up, fists clenched.

He couldn’t accuse Y/N outright. Not yet. Not without more proof.

But one thing was now painfully clear: he wasn’t just hunting a killer anymore.

He was racing against someone who already had Y/N’s trust.

And that terrified him more than any monster in the woods.

Y/N walked into their bedroom, expecting silence and distance, like the past few nights. But this time, Harry was waiting — not on the balcony, not in another room — but sitting at the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, phone in hand.

She stopped short. His gaze lifted to hers, cold and unreadable.

“Where were you today?” he asked quietly.

“I went to the library with Sienna,” she replied, placing her sweater over the back of a chair, trying to play it casual. “We were researching more on my bloodline—why?”

Harry turned the phone around. On the screen was a still image — the same surveillance photo of Aiden, grainy but clear.

Her heart stopped.

“I found him,” Harry said flatly. “His name is Aiden Rowe. Classified rogue. No pack. No known origin. Spotted in Alsfield. And somehow, he knows your name. He knows where you go. He knows how to find you when I can’t.”

Y/N’s throat dried.

“I asked you who you were with,” Harry said, standing now, his presence massive. “Zion told me your emotions spiked. You lied to me.”

“I didn’t know how to explain it yet,” Y/N whispered, arms crossing over her chest. “I needed time.”

“Time?” His voice broke a little. “Y/N, we found his DNA on both of the most recent bodies.”

She blinked.

“What?”

Harry stepped closer, voice shaking. “His blood was on your father. His skin cells. Under her nails. It’s him. He killed them.”

“No…” she murmured, taking a step back.

“I need you to stop protecting him.” His voice cracked — not in anger, but in pain. “I don’t know what he told you, but I know how he made you feel. That you could trust him. That he had answers. But whatever he is, he’s not safe. He’s not innocent.”

Y/N felt her whole world collapse under her feet. “I didn’t know—Harry, I didn’t—he told me things about my mother, my father. He didn’t say anything about the murders.”

“Of course he didn’t.” Harry’s jaw clenched, eyes flashing with hurt. “He used you.”

She turned away, her voice trembling. “And you went behind my back. You tracked him, searched for him—like I was some kind of liability.”

“I did it,” he said, voice low, “because I’m trying to keep you alive. Because if he’s the one leaving bodies out there, and you’re the one he’s been circling... it’s only a matter of time.”

Silence stretched between them. The weight of it pressed against her chest.

“I didn’t mean to betray you,” she whispered.

Harry’s breath hitched, but before he could speak, Y/N looked him straight in the eye, voice trembling but firm—

“I don’t trust you anymore.”

The doors to the pack house slammed shut behind Harry as he stormed inside, boots echoing against the wood floor. His jaw was tight, his fists clenched so hard his knuckles were white. Zion was pacing in his head, snarling, pulsing with betrayal.

Y/N stood by the fireplace, arms crossed. She looked startled by his sudden return — or maybe by the fury radiating off him like wildfire.

"You lied to me," Harry said flatly, stopping a few feet from her.

Y/N stiffened. “Harry, I—”

“You lied.” He cut her off, eyes sharp and wild. “You looked me in the face and said nothing. Not a single word about him. Who he was. What he’s been saying to you. You’ve been meeting him in secret and you kept it all hidden from me.”

She opened her mouth, but he didn’t give her the chance.

“You’re the Luna. You don’t get to be selfish. You don’t get to choose your past over your pack!”

“I didn’t choose anyone over them!” she snapped, stepping toward him now. “I didn’t know if I could trust you with it yet—”

“You couldn’t trust me?” he growled. “After everything I’ve done to protect you? After I let you into every part of me?”

“I wasn’t protecting him, Harry. I was protecting myself! I don’t even know who I am anymore. Everything about my family is a lie, and Aiden—he has pieces of the truth that no one else does.”

“Aiden is a murderer,” Harry shouted. “And you’ve been sneaking around with him like some star-crossed story while my people bury their dead!”

Her face crumpled, but Harry was too far gone. “You think being Luna is just about wearing the title? You think it’s just about sleeping in this house and holding my hand in public? It’s about sacrifice. It's about putting the pack above everything, even yourself.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she refused to cry in front of him.

“You made me look weak,” he whispered, voice breaking. “To them. To myself. You’re supposed to be my partner… and instead, I don’t even know who I’m sleeping next to anymore.”

Silence fell between them like ash after a fire.

Y/N stepped back, breath shaky. “So what now?”

Harry turned away, jaw clenched, unable to meet her gaze. “I don’t know. But you can’t keep doing this. You can’t keep pretending this isn’t betrayal.”

She didn’t respond — not because she didn’t want to, but because maybe it was.

The air was sharp and biting as dusk settled over the Shadow Pack’s land, the golden hue of the setting sun casting long shadows across the front of the house. The quiet hum of evening was suddenly shattered by the gruff sounds of boots hitting the ground, voices barking orders, and the low growls of warriors in wolf form pacing just beyond the tree line.

Y/N stepped outside, drawn by the noise, and froze.

Her stomach dropped when she saw them — Harry, Niall, Axel, and two other enforcers — dragging a figure between them.

Aiden.

He was barely conscious, his head hanging low, blood trickling from his mouth and matting his dark hair. His shirt was torn, revealing slashes across his chest and bruises blooming like storm clouds across his ribs. His feet scraped against the ground, unable to carry his own weight.

Her mouth opened but no sound came out. Her feet stayed rooted.

"Aiden..." she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.

He stirred weakly, and as they approached the front steps of the pack house, his head rolled toward her. One swollen eye managed to open, and when it found hers, he smiled.

Not in mockery.

Not in fear.

But in recognition.

As if seeing her made it all worth it.

“Y/N…” he croaked, his voice barely more than a breath. “You’re safe.”

That nearly crumbled her.

“No,” she muttered, taking a step forward.

One of the guards shoved him forward, and Aiden groaned in pain. The warriors didn’t slow down — didn’t care. To them, he was a threat. A murderer. And now, their prisoner.

Harry didn’t look at her as they passed. His jaw was clenched, eyes blazing straight ahead, the vein in his temple ticking like a time bomb.

Y/N turned quickly, heart hammering, eyes stinging with tears. She could barely breathe.

She ran inside — through the grand doors, up the stairs, past startled pack members who didn’t dare stop her — and straight to their room.

Her suitcase was pulled out in seconds, her hands trembling as she yanked open drawers and shoved clothes inside.

When the bedroom door slammed open behind her, she didn’t have to look to know who it was.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, voice low, rough with the storm brewing behind it.

“What does it look like?” she snapped. “I’m leaving.”

“The hell you are.” He took two steps forward. “You’re running because you saw the consequences of your actions for the first time. Because it’s easier to run than face what you've done.”

She turned to him, fury sparking behind her tears. “You ambushed him, Harry! You used me as bait—”

“He was dangerous,” Harry cut in, jaw tight. “He is dangerous. You think he was just going to keep giving you answers and vanishing into the night? You think he cares about you?”

“You don’t know him!” she shouted.

“I know enough,” Harry growled, taking a step closer. “He played you, Y/N. He wanted to get inside your head, and he did. And now look at you—so wrapped up in whatever sick story he spun that you’re packing a bag instead of helping me protect the pack.”

“I never chose him over you—”

“You chose not to tell me!” he barked. “You chose to hide him, to meet him in secret, and then defend him even after his DNA was on the bodies of people I buried!”

She faltered, clutching the zipper of her bag.

“I don’t know what he is,” she whispered. “But I know what you did was wrong. He didn’t deserve to be dragged through the dirt like that. Beaten like an animal.”

Harry stared at her, breathing heavily.

“No,” he said after a long pause, voice quieter but colder. “What he doesn’t deserve… is you risking everything we’ve built for him.”

She turned away, clutching the bag like it was her only lifeline.

“You’re blind right now,” he continued. “You’re angry, and grieving, and lost. But if you walk out that door tonight... there’s no guarantee who you’ll be when you come back. If you come back.”

She flinched, and he softened—just for a second.

“You’re supposed to be Luna,” he said, pain leaking into his voice. “You were supposed to choose us.”

She didn’t answer. She just stood there, silent, as the bond between them thinned, stretched… and trembled at the edge of snapping.

The knock at the door came early. Too early.

Y/N sat on the edge of the bed she hadn’t slept in, her suitcase still half-packed beside her. She didn’t move. She didn’t even flinch.

The knock came again, firmer.

This time, it was followed by a gentle voice.

“Y/N… it’s Sienna.”

The door creaked open, and Sienna stepped inside, followed closely by her mate, Radcliffe — tall, serious, and as stoic as ever. His arms were crossed, but his eyes weren’t unkind. He was here for duty. Sienna was here for her.

“Morning,” Y/N said quietly, barely lifting her gaze.

Sienna’s lips pressed together in a thin line as she took in the sight of her friend — sleepless, tear-stained, still in yesterday’s clothes.

“We came early,” Sienna said softly, approaching the bed. “Harry said it was okay. We’re here to begin Aiden’s interrogation.”

Y/N flinched at the name.

“I don’t want to talk about him,” she whispered.

Sienna exhaled. She kneeled in front of her, taking her hands in hers. “Y/N… you have to open your eyes. I know this is hard. But you’re not thinking clearly.”

“You didn’t know him,” Y/N said, her voice shaking. “You didn’t see the way he looked at me. He was gentle. He… he cared.”

Sienna's expression flickered with pain — not for Aiden, but for her. “He didn’t care. Not in the way you think. I need you to understand what he’s done.”

Y/N shook her head, pulling her hands away. “I can’t. I just can’t believe it.”

“You have to,” Sienna said sharply now, her voice firm but not cruel. She looked at Radcliffe for a moment, then back at Y/N. “Because I saw the files. I read every detail. And if you knew what we knew… you wouldn’t be defending him. You’d be praying he rots.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat.

“Do you want to know what he did to one of the victims?” Sienna asked quietly.

“Sienna, please—”

“She was pregnant,” Sienna interrupted. “He didn’t just kill her. He carved symbols into her stomach and dragged her body out into the woods for her mate to find.”

Y/N’s skin went cold.

“The elder,” Radcliffe added grimly. “He was decapitated. Left in the center of his garden, seated like he was still alive.”

“No…” Y/N whispered, hands trembling in her lap.

“It wasn’t just death, Y/N,” Sienna said. “It was pain. Torture. Statements. This wasn’t a man lost or broken. This was someone who enjoyed making people suffer.”

Tears streamed silently down Y/N’s face now, her throat locked.

“Please,” she finally choked out. “Stop…”

Sienna leaned forward, pressing her forehead against Y/N’s.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But someone has to make you see the truth before it kills you too.”

Y/N didn’t respond. She just let the silence hang — loud, thick, and suffocating — as the horror finally began to sink in.

Sienna let the silence stretch, but it wasn’t peaceful — it was suffocating.

Then, gently but firmly, she said, “You’re jeopardizing everything, Y/N.”

Y/N’s tear-glazed eyes snapped up. “I’m just trying to find the truth—”

“No,” Sienna cut in, voice firmer now. “You’re clinging to a lie, and it’s costing you more than you realize.”

Radcliffe stood silent by the door, arms crossed. His presence grounded the tension in the room, like a silent warning that time was running out.

“You’re risking your mate bond,” Sienna continued, kneeling in front of Y/N again. Her voice dropped lower. “Do you even understand what that means? If Harry rejects you—if that bond is severed—it’s not just the end of you and him. It’s the end of the pack as we know it.”

Y/N blinked. “He wouldn’t—”

“He’s trying not to,” Sienna said sharply. “But you’re pushing him away. You’re lying to him. Hiding things. Protecting someone who murdered our people.” Her voice cracked, but she kept going. “Do you think the gods bless a Luna who chooses a killer over her mate? Over her pack?”

Y/N’s lip trembled. “I didn’t mean—”

“The gods don’t care about good intentions,” Sienna said, eyes burning. “They care about sacrifice. About devotion. Your role as Luna is sacred, and if you keep choosing Aiden over the one you’re bound to, you’re not just betraying Harry — you’re betraying your ancestors, your bloodline, the Moon itself.”

Y/N pressed a hand to her chest, her heart aching like something inside her was tearing.

“I’m not asking you to stop seeking answers,” Sienna added more gently now. “We will keep looking. We’ll go through every record, every scroll, every scrap of history to figure out who you are and what legacy you carry.” She took Y/N’s hands again. “But we don’t need Aiden to do that. You already have a pack. A mate. People willing to risk everything for you.”

She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “But if Harry rejects you… the bond will shatter. And if that happens, the pack loses its Luna, and the Alpha may never recover. We won’t survive another war, Y/N. Not without our leaders whole.”

Y/N was shaking now, her breath shallow and her heart pounding so hard it hurt.

Sienna squeezed her hands. “Please… come back to us. Come back to him.”