CHAPTER 107: MATE. MATE.MATE.

**~ Hazel’s POV ~**

Cyrius didn’t even have to tell me twice.

I rushed downstairs and burst into the room. Scooping my babies into my arms, I smashed the window with my bare hand. I stuck my head out...thank the moon, the height wasn’t too bad.

I tightened my hold around the twins and jumped.

I landed hard—face first—but I didn’t stop. The entire house behind me was echoing with chaos and bloodcurdling screams. I dashed away, running as fast as my legs could carry me, the burn in my stomach growing hotter, more intense.

I stopped briefly to catch my breath, glancing down at my crying babies to soothe them—and that’s when I saw it.

I was surrounded.

They had followed me.

Damn it. No. No, no, no.

I was about to lose everything. My heart thundered with panic, but then Cyrius’s words echoed in my mind:

"No one must know about you—not here. They’ll only see you as an abomination."

I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t let them see the truth.

So, I gently lowered my babies onto the ground and raised both hands in surrender.

"I’m not involved. I’m just a visitor," I lied.

"Liar," one of them spat. "We saw you dancing with one of those noble wolves. Seize her—and kill the babies!"

"No, please!" I begged, tears stinging my eyes. "I’m just a mother. Please, don’t hurt them. You don’t want to do this."

They laughed at my desperation. And just as they stepped forward, I heard it.

A voice....A feminine’s voice.

"Kill them. Destroy them."

It was like a sharp growl wrapped in silk—dangerous and divine. I whipped around. Who was that? My head turned in every direction.

Was it... my wolf? ...The voice growled again, "Kill them."

I knelt by my babies, brushing their cheeks as I whispered, "I’m sorry."

Then I closed my eyes.

And surrendered. Before I could even take a breath, I shifted.

My bones snapped, fur rippled along my skin, and power...raw and ancient poured through me. When I opened my eyes, I wasn’t just in wolf form... I was something else. Something terrifying.

They saw me—and froze. The ones who were ready to strike suddenly stood trembling, paralyzed by fear.

I didn’t hesitate. I lunged at them.

By the time it was over, every single one of them lay crumpled on the ground, their blood painting the earth in streaks of red and silver.

"Good girl..."

I spun around. Who said that? No one was there. But I heard it again—inside me.

"Me... I’m Flora." The voice didn’t sound like normal speech. It was a growl, low and ancient. But I understood her.

My wolf....Flora.

I saw her, clear as day, in the depths of my soul.

Before I could respond, flashlights cut through the night. I snapped out of my haze and quickly wiped off any trace fur, blood, hair...anything that could connect me to what had just happened.

I pretended to be nothing more than a scared mother, crouched beside her crying babies.

"She’s alive! She’s alive!" a man’s voice called.

They rushed toward me—and last to arrive was Cyrius. He walked up with a slow, satisfied smirk.

Pride oozed off him as he gave me a small nod and picked up Christian while I cradled Heather.

Then, turning to the others, he said calmly, "I told you. My wife doesn’t need protection."

That’s when Alexander stepped forward. I bowed slightly, and he returned the gesture, though his eyes held deep curiosity.

"How did you do it?" he asked, scanning the bodies. "How did you take down so many men? You don’t look like someone who just recently learned to shift. You’re what—eighteen? How can you kill this many wolves?"

I paused.

"I wasn’t alone," I said. "There was a wolf. She came to help me and left afterward."

Alexander narrowed his eyes. "But how did you know help would come? You acted like someone certain of survival."

I turned to Cyrius, a smirk of my own forming.

"She has a good luck charm," he said smoothly. "And I knew that charm would come through."

Alexander didn’t seem convinced...but he had other matters to deal with. After a long pause, he simply nodded.

"We’re just glad you’re safe," he said. "And the babies?"

"They’re fine," I replied. "They just need to eat. Then they’ll sleep."

I went back into the house and into my room. I gently rocked my babies to sleep before trying once again to communicate with my wolf.

"Flora... Flora..." I whispered into the silence.

But still—nothing.

The only two times I’d ever truly connected with her were when Cyrius had kissed me, and when those wolves attacked and she’d taken control. But now? It was like trying to scream into a void. Nothing answered.

"At least we should bond or something," I muttered.

"Flora..." I called out again.

Then came a voice from the door.

"Who’s Flora? Don’t tell me my wife is going mad," Cyrius said, standing there with that damn smile, those bright eyes, and the exact same dimple Cayden had—mocking me.

I turned to him quickly. "No, it’s my wolf. I’m trying to communicate with her. I swear to God, she took over when I was attacked—she killed those men. But now, I just... I can’t feel her."

"Yeah," Cyrius shrugged casually as he stepped closer. "It happens like that sometimes."

But the moment he got closer, I heard it.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

I stumbled back, my heart slamming against my ribs.

"What? Hazel?" Cyrius rushed to me.

And then it hit—that burning sensation again. The bite marks on my neck, the ones he left when he first marked me, started itching like wildfire. A strange, sweet scent filled the air—so thick and primal I could barely breathe.

Cyrius’s eyes darkened immediately. He sniffed once. Twice. His expression changed.

"Oh... my God..." I whispered. "Is this...heat?" My voice trembled as I looked down, horrified. "I’ve seen wolves talk about it, joke about it. But... me? Now?"

I covered my face with both hands, trying to distance myself from him.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

Flora’s voice growled louder in my head, insistent now.

Cyrius stepped forward, calm but all-too aware of what was happening. "Hazel. It’s nothing. You’re just in heat. Your wolf has activated. That’s all. It’s normal."

His voice dropped. "And since you were already marked before your wolf awakened... now it’s only right for me to mark you again—with her fully present."

He moved closer, voice husky. "Let me help. Just let me bite you again. We could... ease this, together. One rough night, that’s all it would take, and then—"

"No!" I cried, backing away, almost panicking. "Stay away from me! I’ll be fine."

I clutched my hair, trying to ground myself—but it wasn’t working.

I wasn’t fine.

"Hazel, it’s not something to be ashamed of," Cyrius said gently, though there was a tension behind his voice. "Your wolf is merging with you. You’re maturing. Your bond with me is intensifying. That’s natural. The moment we mated, your body and hers... they were always going to respond."

"No!" I shouted again. "I need to get away. I need to go back to Cayden and Caspian. I need to go back to New Orleans. Please take me back now. I need my husband."

Cyrius’s entire expression shifted.

"Damn me if I ever let you go back there," he snapped. "This—" he gestured around the room "—is your home now. Our home. At least for now. When I take over New Orleans, I’ll bring you back as my queen."

"I’m not yours!"

He gave a small, infuriating smirk. "Your wolf said otherwise."

Flora snarled in my head like she was ready to lunge. I could feel her desire..hot, overwhelming, and so unlike me. She wanted to pounce on him, bite his neck, lick down to his ribs, feel his hands grip my thighs, and—

"Stop," I whispered, slapping my own forehead, shaking off the images flooding in. "What the hell is wrong with me?"

Okay, fine. Let my wolf communicate with yours," he said, his voice dropping low. Then, right in front of me, he began to shift...just slightly. His bright yellow eyes turned a deeper gold, his claws extended, and faint tufts of hair sprouted along his jaw. He grunted softly, and strangely, I felt it in my stomach. Like something deep inside me was responding.

I didn’t know what it was, but it felt like our wolves were... communicating. My hand began to tremble as if it wanted to reach out to him on its own. As if it had a will.

He stepped closer.

"Cyrus, please," I whispered, backing away. "Stay away."

"No, wife," he said, his voice now gruff and laced with that unmistakable growl. "Let’s bond. Let’s mate. It’ll be easy... and fun, and sweet, and pleasurable. I promise."

"No!" I said, louder this time. "And I’m not even your wife! We’re not married!"

"Then fine," he growled, a feral grin spreading across his face. "Let’s get married. Let’s start with this."

His tongue flicked out to wet his lips as his golden eyes locked onto my neck—right where Cayden and Caspian’s bite marks still lingered like a brand.

"No," I gasped, clutching my neck instinctively, stepping back in panic. "No..."