Her Fire

12 - the lycan alpha

“I was assured of another chance, a new life free from the shackles of the mate bond. I am not accepting another one.”

Immediately after, a wolf’s hair-raising howl echoes throughout the whole vineyard, reaching out to the far corners of the villa.

Matt closes his eyes, rubbing his temple. "Damn… it has begun."

“What? What was that?” She asks, standing up.

Matt stands up and grabs a tranquilizer gun from a cabinet. “I think it’s best if you stay inside for a bit, until I tell you otherwise. For your own safety, especially if you’re human now. Stay here, don’t go back to your cottage yet, it could be dangerous as it might be the first place he’ll…” he opens the door and gets out.

“Really? You’re gonna shoot him with a tranquilizer gun?” She asks skeptically.

Matt sighs. “I wish I wouldn't need to. But it’s the only way, especially if Flint has completely taken control. I have only ever seen him once without David to keep him in check. That beast is very dangerous, Deirdre. A menace even to himself. And we can't attract attention to the villa if he gets out. Bad for business. Just imagine the news," he groans as he hurries away, telling her once more to stay inside the office and shut the door.

Annoyed, Deirdre does as she's told and locks the door to the office. And she waits.

One thing that has never changed about her though, despite being reborn, is her impatience. She’s always been one who cannot simply sit still, especially when locked up. In just half an hour, she’s about to pull her hair out.

Waiting there, doing nothing, is pure torture.

And thinking about it, this is cowardly and stvpid. What would she do if Flint finds her here? There is nothing here that she can use to defend herself with!

What is she going to do, hurl a stapler at him, hoping the blo0dy thing is made of silver!?

She looks around, searching for anything even remotely usable, muttering about annoying werewolves, but then her eyes land on something displayed on the wall.

A handgun. Specifically a Smith & Wesson 340 PD. And next to it, a box of silver bullets.

Deirdre grins. She’s quite certain Matt wouldn’t mind her borrowing it, for her protection. She’s a valued guest, after all.

She takes the gun, thankful for having taken shooting lessons back at home as she loads the gun, before stepping out of the office.

Only to come face to face with something straight out of a nightmare.

A half-man, half-wolf stands outside the courtyard, growling.

She gasps.

The creature stands around seven feet tall, perhaps more, its body muscular and quite intimidating, with broad shoulders and powerful legs, obviously built for speed and strength. It has dark gray fur, which is thick and shaggy, making it appear larger and even more frightening. Its eyes are the color of molten gold, piercing and intense, adding to the aura of danger, with the mouth full of razor-sharp teeth, visible even when not bared. The claws look equally sharp and lethal even half-sheathed, seemingly capable of tearing through flesh and bone with ease.

A lycan!

“David..?” She asks. Could it really be him? Is this why Matt said he’s dangerous?

Deirdre blinks furiously, trying to remember what she can from the hidden history.

.

“...to help restore the balance between Darkness and Light, the four elemental gods summoned the spirits of fearsome beasts long gone and offered them another chance to live, this time through human hosts: Dragons, bears, felines, and of course… wolves… With a few select human warriors, they made a pact to coexist in relative harmony and the shifters came to being, and for a while, it seemed to work... And that is how the shapeshifters came to be…”

.

The lycans were elite warriors of the past. The difference between them and normal wolf-shifters is that lycans can keep their half-man, half-beast state for a very long time, while ordinary shifters can only do it quickly, otherwise, it would drain them. It takes an obscene amount of power and skill to be able to remain tethered right in the middle, balanced in that form between man and beast. Lycans were the first to be extinct as humans hunted them in fear of these powerful 'monsters'. In time, and as it was in their nature to evolve for survival, human shifters learned to adjust and live peacefully with their spirit beasts. Those humans never really yielded fully to their wolves, even in wolf form. With the lycans, it was the exact opposite, as the humans took a step back and completely trusted their spirit counterparts to hold the fort. In this case, the spirit beasts manipulated the form, shifting instead into a half-human, monstrous-looking form that was stronger, faster, and more difficult to beat.

The lycan growls menacingly.

Not David, then.

“Flint.” Deirdre sighs.

The lycan steps closer and Deirdre steps back involuntarily. Standing on two feet, clawed fingers opening and closing menacingly the creature looks even more threatening. One swipe and she’d be picking up her intestines from the ground.

She looks around in panic, looking for something to defend herself with before remembering…

Gun! She has a gun!

“F*ck, yeah, I have a gun!” She mutters, raising the pistol and pointing it towards Flint, forcing herself not to tremble, or she might accidentally press the trigger and do irreparable damage. “Back off!” She snarls. “I know you can understand me. Your cousin might be too nice, choosing to shoot you with tranquilizers only, but I won’t hesitate to sh00t your balls off with silver bullets.”

Flint halts in mid-stride, growling low. “Shoot me, then. Release me from my misery or die by my hand.” The threat is accompanied by the unsheathing of even longer, sharp-looking claws.

A mind-link. He’s really powerful, able to connect even with those who are not part of his pack. A lycan alpha.

Deirdre swallows, clutching the gun tighter. “Take one more step and I’ll sh00t you.”

She would do it. She’s done playing nice and it’s only self-defence, as Flint has just threatened to end her life.

But then she remembers how she had died the first time, struck through her core by her own fated mate.

Her hand trembles.

Ouranos was an a$$ who was willing to sacrifice Deirdre just to be with someone else.

All this time, she'd never truly understood why Destiny paired her with him, but she'd like to think it was not because they are the same.

She doesn’t have to be like him. She doesn't want to have any similarities with the jerk and if she shoots Flint, she'd be doing exactly that. Confirm that they are more alike than she's willing to accept.

"I'm not like him," she mutters as she lowers the gun and puts it down on the ground, going against self-preservation. "I will never take the life of my fated mate, not even to save myself."

She stares Flint in the eyes, raising her chin despite knowing that she will soon perish once more, in a similar manner, more or less.

Destiny and Time can go f*ck themselves.

Who cares about second chances and happily ever afters!? She no longer believes in them anyway.

She'd rather return to the Origin. Or even go beyond and never be reborn again.

"Go ahead. Do your worst. I'm not afraid of dying."

Flint stops growling, appearing to hesitate as he watches her lower her weapon and throw it aside, bravely standing there without anything to protect herself from his attack.

"Then tell me, mate, " He snarls. "...what are you afraid of?"

Deirdre clicks her tongue. "I'm not afraid of anything."

"Liar!"

She grits her teeth, clenching her fists by her side. "I've dealt with things worse than dying. Do it or go to hell."

Flint stares at her suspiciously, studying her every move. "Why are you not afraid of me k*lling you?"

Deirdre sneers. "I told you, it won't be my first time. It seems to be part of my destiny. Just get it over with already. I’m bored with this conversation."

It seems to unnerve him somehow, the impertinence and impatience to die.

Truth is, Deirdre is almost looking forward to meeting Time again, to give her a piece of her mind. Why did she have to send her somewhere where fated mates still exist? That was not part of the deal.

Flint suddenly seems to turn inward, appearing to have a conversation with his human, before shifting back to David, who collapses on the ground, naked as the day he was born.

Deirdre looks away, blushing a little because, for a few seconds, she realized she was staring. She turns to go back inside the office and grabs one of the jackets she remembers seeing by the door, returning quickly to cover him with it.

“I’m sorry,” David whispers. “I didn’t mean to scare you. He wasn’t really going to hurt you, I swear. He was just…”

“Hurting.” Deirdre finishes. “I understand.” And truly, she does.

He nods and turns away without meeting her eyes. “Don’t worry, I got it all under control now. My apologies again for what happened here.” He stands up slowly and starts to leave, looking battered and beaten that Deirdre’s heart aches involuntarily. He’s not even trying to look pitiful just to get sympathy, for she can see him struggling for some sort of dignity.

But he still looks broken. Even more so than before.

Someone had hurt him long ago and Deirdre only made it worse. And she can’t stand the guilt. She doesn’t have to accept him as her mate, but maybe she can help restore some of his faith in himself.

How can she make it better?

She remembers that Matt said David and Flint not merging is considered a failure. An anomaly in their kind.

She refuses to believe that. Not when she’s probably the only one in this time and age to remember the greatness of the lycan warriors.

“You’re a lycan. Do you know that?” She asks, making him stop. “Lycans were one of the most powerful creatures in the old world. You have a very strong spirit beast and it would be a crime to absorb and annihilate Flint, just to prove your strength. There is nothing to be ashamed of. You should be proud to be gifted such a powerful wolf.”