Chapter 4 Chapter 4

AMINA

The Observation Deck had become my personal hell. After Rian’s return from the Council meeting, where he’d lied to buy me seventy-two more hours of breath, I knew the reprieve was meaningless. Seventy-two hours was just enough time for Kira to decide I wasn't worth the trouble and arrange an 'accident.'

I spent the first twenty-four hours mapping the security flaws, which, thanks to Jasper’s obsessive programming, were almost nonexistent. Rian had found my feeble attempt to open the window shroud and hadn’t even bothered to punish me. That indifference felt worse than a beating. It meant he viewed me as a problem he hadn't yet filed a solution for.

But Kira hadn't been indifferent. She brought my food, and her eyes were frozen with disgust.

“You’re a sickness, Hybrid,” she’d hissed yesterday, tossing the tray onto the table. “And every hour you live, Alpha Rian weakens. If he won't do his duty, one of us will. Get ready for a political execution, not a rescue.”

Her threat was a sharp, cold jab of reality. Rian was a necessary monster for the world, but he was also my mate, a bond I hated but couldn't sever. If the choice was between the packs killing him for treason or me somehow escaping to save him from that impossible choice, I had to choose escape.

The moment the lock on the Observation Deck hissed open, I was already moving.

It was Rian. He looked utterly exhausted, the lines around his eyes deep, and he hadn’t bothered with a suit. He wore a simple black henley that emphasized the powerful, terrifying geometry of his chest and shoulders. He hadn't seen me yet; he was scanning the room with the weary focus of a man expecting chaos.

This was it! This was the moment I'd been waiting for. I'd studied his movements, and I knew he'd be a bit off - balance due to his exhaustion.

I launched myself at the door, but Rian, even when tired, was inhuman. He reacted before my feet hit the threshold. He didn't grab me; he slammed his entire, massive body between me and the exit, blocking the narrow gap with pure muscle and lethal speed.

I collided hard with his chest, the force stealing my breath. The impact was electric, the Mate Bond screaming—a blinding flare of agonizing possessiveness from him and frantic, terrified aversion from me. I gasped, overwhelmed by the immediate, intoxicating scent of his skin and the punishing solidity of his form.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” he demanded, his voice low and ragged, his hands clamping down on my arms like vices, pinning me against the door frame.

“Getting out before your little killer puppy arranges for my untimely demise!” I struggled, twisting, the fear lending me a frantic, desperate strength. “They’ll kill me, Rian. Or worse, they’ll use me to take you down! Let me go!”

“Never,” he snarled, his jaw tight. His eyes, inches from mine, burned with a furious, possessive amber. “You think running is an option? You think the world is safer for you outside of this tower? You’re a liability, Amina, and I own the liability.”

“You don’t own me!”

His grip tightened, cutting off circulation. “I do! And you’re not leaving until I understand what you are and how to neutralize the prophetic threat you pose!”

The word neutralize snapped something in my control. I saw Kira’s frozen eyes, Alarie’s fury, the cold marble of the Council floor, all determined to erase me. I couldn’t let Rian, my anchor and my captor, control my fate anymore.

A wave of pure, white-hot terror mixed with defiance flooded my senses. I usually held back from using my full power because I was afraid of losing control. But now, with my life on the line, I knew I had to take a risk. I first tried to use a milder form of my Kinetic Echo to break his hold, but it had little effect. In desperation, I reached for the darkest, most terrifying power I had: the Primal Command.

I slammed my hands against his chest, not to push, but to penetrate. I focused on the primal, biological core of his identity… the wolf itself.

Stop! Don't shift! Don't move! Retreat!

The Earth Pulse, which I usually kept chained and buried, surged out of my palms like a focused sonic boom. The air around us crackled violently. Rian let out a strangled cry that was less human, more beast—a sound ripped from his Lycan core.

His body went rigid, not from control, but from absolute rejection of the foreign, dominating force. His immense muscles clenched, and the veins in his neck stood out like cables. His bones began to grind, a sickening, wet sound as his muscles fought a biological civil war.

“A-Amina! Stop it! What the fuck are you doing?” he choked out, his eyes wide and shocked, the Mate Bond connection shrieking with agony.

I watched the change: his canines elongated, and the shadow of his massive wolf form flickered at the edge of his skin, fighting to break free. But the Primal Command was suffocating the shift, forcing his wolf to retreat, to hide, to become subservient to my will. I was brutally attacking the core of his Lycan identity—the Alpha power that gave him control over everything, including me.

Tears sprang to my eyes. This was exactly why they called us monsters. This power was corrupt. It was cruel. I hated the feeling of having so much destructive control.

I knew I had to stop. I'd been practicing controlling my powers in small ways, and I focused all my concentration on reining in the Primal Command. Slowly, I managed to pull back the power, and the effects on Rian started to ease.

Rian collapsed to his hands and knees, fighting the excruciating backlash of the aborted shift. He was breathing heavily, his body violently shaking as he wrestled his inner wolf back into submission.

I stood over him, my chest heaving. The entire Observation Deck was silent save for our ragged breathing. I hadn't escaped, but I had shown him exactly what I was capable of.

Slowly, painfully, Rian pushed himself up, his eyes never leaving mine. He looked less like a corporate Alpha and more like a barely contained predator. The fear, the pain, and the residual rage were a tangible force.

But beneath the fury, the golden spark of the Mate Bond was still there, demanding protection, demanding proximity.

He took a deep breath, his chest heaving as he fought to regain his composure. The pain from the Primal Command still coursed through his veins, and the shock of my raw power left him reeling. But beneath the searing anger and the throbbing ache, he saw the desperation in her eyes—a reflection of the same fear that had haunted him since the Council's edict.

He stared at the door for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. I was a wild card, a force of nature that could either shatter the fragile peace of the Lycan world or become its salvation. The prophecy loomed large, a shadow over their every move.

Slowly, he walked towards the main door. His hand hovered over the lock for a brief second, as if hesitating between the path of safety in containment and the unknown of what lay beyond. With a final, resolute movement, he slammed the heavy lock shut, sealing us in the tower suite.

The sound echoed through the room, a finality that hung in the air. He turned back to me, his eyes still ablaze with a mixture of fury and something deeper—an understanding born from a shared, primal bond.

“Amina,” he began, his voice rough and raw, the words forced through gritted teeth. “You think running will solve anything? That the outside world will be your haven? ”

His hands balled into fists at his sides, the veins in his neck standing out as he struggled to keep his temper in check. “Yet, I can't just let them take you. And I can't let you run wild, either. ”

He let out a long, ragged sigh, the tension in his body slowly ebbing away. “So, here's what's going to happen. I'm going to teach you to control that power. Because if you don't, it'll consume you, and then we're all doomed. If you're going to be a part of this world, you'll do it on my terms, by learning to master what's inside you.”

His words surprised me. I'd expected anger, punishment, but not this offer. But as I looked into his eyes, I saw a glimmer of hope. Maybe there was a way out of this nightmare, after all.