Chapter 12: Dark Temptation
1262words
As we left the chamber, I clutched the mysterious note in my pocket. Someone wants you dead. Not exactly comforting bedtime reading.
"You look like you need a distraction," Valerian's voice startled me from my thoughts. He stood leaning against the wall, somehow managing to make the simple pose look like a fashion shoot.
"What I need is sleep," I replied, though the idea of closing my eyes with that note's warning fresh in my mind seemed impossible.
"Sleep is overrated." His purple eyes gleamed in the dim corridor. "I have a better idea."
Before I could protest, he took my hand. "The others are busy with Council politics. Let me show you something."
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Valerian's idea of "something" turned out to be sneaking out of the temple.
"Are you insane?" I hissed as we slipped past the guards. "There are hostile werewolves watching for us out there!"
"Precisely why they won't expect us to leave." His logic was as twisted as his smile. "Besides, we're not going far."
"Far" was relative. We traveled through underground passages I hadn't known existed, emerging in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees. The moon, nearly full now, bathed everything in silver light.
"What are we doing here?" I asked, nervously scanning the shadows.
"Learning." Valerian stepped into the moonlight. "Griffin teaches you strength. Lucien teaches you healing. I'm teaching you freedom."
"Freedom from what?"
"From fear." He moved with liquid grace, circling me. "You're afraid of your wolf. You fight the transformation, resist your instincts."
I couldn't deny it. Every time I felt the wolf stirring inside me, I pushed it down, terrified of losing control.
"The wolf isn't separate from you, Lyra. It is you—your deepest, truest self." He stopped behind me, his breath warm against my neck. "And it's beautiful."
A shiver ran down my spine that had nothing to do with fear. "How would you know?"
"Because I've seen it." His hands settled lightly on my shoulders. "That night in the cave, when you partially shifted to protect us—your eyes glowed like molten silver. You were magnificent."
I remembered only fragments of that moment—the surge of protective rage, the heightened senses, the power.
"Close your eyes," Valerian murmured. "Feel the moonlight on your skin."
I hesitated, then complied. The silver light seemed to seep through my pores, awakening something primal within me.
"Now breathe," he continued, his voice hypnotic. "Smell the forest. Listen to its heartbeat."
Suddenly, the world exploded into sensory detail. I could smell deer that had passed through hours ago, hear the wingbeats of an owl hunting half a mile away, feel the vibrations of a rabbit's frightened heart nearby.
"Oh my god," I whispered, overwhelmed.
"Don't fight it," Valerian urged. "Let your senses open. Let your wolf rise to the surface—not to take over, but to share its gifts."
I felt my canines lengthen slightly, my fingernails sharpen into points. But instead of the painful wrenching of transformation, this was... exhilarating.
"Run with me," Valerian whispered, and then he was gone, a shadow moving through the trees.
Without thinking, I followed. My body moved with new grace, leaping over fallen logs, ducking under branches. The forest became a blur of sensation and movement. For the first time since being bitten, I wasn't fighting my wolf—I was dancing with it.
We ran for what felt like hours but might have been minutes, until we reached a small waterfall cascading into a moonlit pool. Valerian stood waiting, his eyes reflecting the silver light.
"That was..." I struggled for words, breathing hard not from exertion but from pure exhilaration.
"Freedom," he finished, smiling. "The gift of the wolf."
I laughed, the sound startling me with its wildness. "This feels dangerous."
"It is," he admitted, stepping closer. "But why does that feel so right?"
"Because this is the real you," Valerian said, his purple eyes flashing in the moonlight. "The one you've kept caged behind politeness and caution."
I studied him, this beautiful, dangerous man who seemed to understand parts of me I barely recognized myself. "Who are you, really? Where did you come from?"
Something shifted in his expression—a momentary vulnerability beneath the confident exterior. "That's a long story."
"We have time." I sat on a boulder beside the pool, patting the space next to me.
Valerian hesitated, then joined me. "I wasn't born into the Western Territory," he began. "I was born... elsewhere."
"Elsewhere being?"
He looked away. "Among hunters."
The word hung between us like a blade. Hunters—the sworn enemies of werewolves, those who had attacked us, who wanted us dead.
"My father was—is—a hunter," he continued, his voice carefully neutral. "A leader among them, actually."
I stared at him, stunned. "You're a hunter's son? How did you become—"
"A werewolf?" His smile was bitter. "Not by choice, initially. I was bitten during a raid gone wrong when I was seventeen. My father's men had cornered a pack. I was supposed to stay back, observe, learn the family business." His laugh was hollow. "Instead, I got separated, and an injured Alpha bit me before dying."
"What did your father do?"
Valerian's eyes darkened. "What do you think? He tried to kill me. His own son, suddenly the enemy."
My heart ached for the teenage boy he'd been, betrayed by his own blood. "How did you escape?"
"I ran. For weeks, I lived wild in the forests, half-mad with the transformation, until the Western Alpha found me." His voice softened. "She took me in, taught me control, gave me a new family."
"She?" Female Alphas were supposedly rare.
"Selene." Affection warmed his voice. "She was old even then, the last female Alpha before you. She died ten years ago."
I processed this revelation. "Does Griffin know? About your past?"
"Griffin knows enough to distrust me," Valerian said wryly. "But no, the details of my origin aren't common knowledge. The Western Territory accepted me; that's all most need to know."
"Why tell me?"
His eyes met mine, suddenly intense. "Because you need to understand that we all have darkness inside us, Lyra. The difference is whether we let it consume us or transform us."
He reached out, his fingers brushing my cheek. "Your power frightens you because you don't know its limits. I'm telling you—don't limit it. Embrace it."
My heart raced at his touch. "This is too dangerous," I whispered, but I didn't pull away.
"Life is dangerous," he murmured, leaning closer. "Especially ours."
The moonlight caught in his eyes, turning them luminous. I could feel the heat of him, smell his intoxicating scent—like cedar and midnight and something wild.
"Why does this feel so right?" I breathed, swaying toward him.
"Because this is who you are," he whispered, his lips a breath from mine. "A creature of moonlight and instinct, just like me."
A twig snapped in the forest behind us, and we sprang apart. Valerian was instantly alert, positioning himself between me and the potential threat.
"Time to go," he said quietly, all playfulness gone. "We've lingered too long."
As we slipped back toward the temple through shadow and moonlight, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd glimpsed something rare tonight—not just the truth about Valerian's past, but a truth about myself.
This wild, free, dangerous part of me wasn't something to fear or suppress. It was something to embrace.
And that terrified me more than any hunter ever could.
