CHAPTER 148: THE BURNING DESIRE

Athena woke before the sun rose.

The bed was warm beside her, but Lucas was already gone. She sat up slowly, the sheets slipping from her bare skin, her body still humming from the night before.

But it wasn’t the soft ache of pleasure that made her limbs tremble.

It was the heat.

Worse than before. Different.

She swallowed hard. Her skin felt too tight, like her bones were vibrating beneath her flesh. Sweat beaded across her collarbone, and when she reached up to brush it away, her fingers trembled.

A low, needy sound escaped her throat—unbidden.

"No," she whispered to herself. "Not again. Not now."

The bond was awake, glowing beneath her skin like a second heart.

But it wasn’t just Lucas’s touch that had triggered it this time.

It was everything. Cassius. The power of the bloodline stirring. The memories that still haunted her. The forbidden, half-formed feelings pulling her in two directions. The mating heat had been stilled, not extinguished—and now it returned like wildfire.

Only this time, it was out of control.

She tried to stand and nearly fell.

Her legs buckled beneath her, heat rippling through her lower abdomen like molten lava. Her thighs clenched instinctively, breath coming in shallow gasps.

She grabbed a nearby robe and pulled it tight around herself, forcing one foot in front of the other as she stumbled to the bathing chamber.

The moment cold water touched her skin, she screamed.

It didn’t soothe—it scorched. Steam rose instantly, the water hissing off her flesh as if her body refused to be tamed.

Her reflection in the bronze mirror was flushed, glowing—cheeks too red, eyes golden and half-lost in lust. Her canines were visible. Her pupils were dilated.

It was like something ancient inside her had snapped free.

She was on the floor, half-dressed and barely conscious when the door slammed open.

"Athena!"

Lucas was at her side in an instant, kneeling beside her. His shirt was undone, his sword still strapped across his back, as if he’d come from training the moment the bond alerted him.

"I—I can’t stop it," she panted, clawing at the floor. "Lucas, I don’t know what’s happening—"

He caught her face in his hands. "Your heat’s back. It’s amplified by last night—our bond awakened fully. But this is too fast. It should’ve stabilized."

"It’s hurting me," she gasped.

His eyes darkened. "Then let me help you. Just like before."

But when he kissed her this time, she didn’t melt.

She exploded.

Her hands tore at his clothes, lips crashing into his like a storm, fangs grazing his lower lip. He lifted her effortlessly into his arms and carried her to the bed, but this time it wasn’t slow.

It was ravenous.

She straddled him, body slick with sweat, hips rolling against him with frantic desperation. Every touch ignited her nerves, every breath felt like fire down her throat.

Lucas groaned as she rocked against him. "Athena—if we do this now—"

"I’ll die if we don’t," she moaned, biting down on his shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

Her heat wasn’t just about need.

It was a demand.

A punishment.

A craving too deep to explain, ancient and primal and forged in the gods’ own fury. Outside the door, someone stood frozen.

Cassius.

He’d come to say goodbye. To tell her he was leaving the city—before his presence ruined everything she was building. Before his love for her destroyed them all.

But now he stood just outside, jaw clenched, his wolf snarling beneath the surface as he heard her cries.

Every instinct in him roared to break down the door and take her. To claim what he still believed belonged to him.

But he didn’t move.

He stood there and listened.

And inside, Athena burned.

Lucas didn’t stop until she collapsed against him, boneless and dazed, her breath catching in shallow gasps.

But the bond didn’t still.

Instead, it surged again—angrier this time.

She cried out as golden light crackled across her skin, pulsing through her like a living storm. Lucas tried to hold her, but she pushed him back, eyes wild.

"Something’s wrong," she gasped. "It’s too much—I can’t contain it—"

The air around her shimmered.

Power pulsed from her in waves, and every stone in the room rattled.

Lucas backed away in awe—and fear. "Athena, what is this?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper.

"I think... the Moon Goddess left something inside me. A fragment. A curse. Or a gift."

And now it was awakening.

The door slammed open again—but this time, it wasn’t Cassius.

It was an old woman in black robes, her eyes clouded with white. The Seer. The Oracle who had once whispered riddles about war and blood and thrones.

She looked at Athena like she’d seen this before.

"She’s not like the others," the Seer murmured. "She is the bridge. The vessel. The bloodline cannot hold the divine unless it is tempered."

Lucas stood protectively in front of Athena. "What do we do?"

The Seer’s eyes glowed briefly.

"She must complete the bond fully. Not with flesh. With soul. The heat is only a symptom. What’s inside her is waking."

Athena trembled. "What happens if I fail to contain it?"

"You don’t die," the Seer said calmly. "The world does."

When the Seer left, Lucas gathered her in his arms again, his voice low and fierce. "I don’t care what it takes. I’ll help you control this. I’ll protect you from it. From yourself, if I have to."

She looked up at him, eyes still glowing gold. "What if you can’t?"

"Then we die trying."

The palace had gone silent.

Whispers crawled through the marble halls like poison, carried in the delicate clink of goblets and the fluttering of gossip behind fans. Everyone had felt it—that moment when the air crackled, when power surged from the East Wing like a storm too loud to ignore.

Athena hadn’t stepped outside her chambers in two days.

And in that time, everything changed.

"They fear you," Lucas said quietly, watching from the window. "Even the guards avoid this corridor now."

Athena sat on the edge of the bed, robes clinging to her damp skin. The heat had lessened—barely. Her body still felt overheated, her thoughts clouded and slow. But it wasn’t just the mating bond burning now.

It was fear.

"Good," she murmured. "Let them."

But Lucas didn’t look relieved. His jaw was set, his eyes watchful.

"Not all fear is harmless. Some breeds hunger."

Before she could ask what he meant, a soft knock echoed on the door.

"Athena?" A familiar voice—feminine. Sweet. Harmless.

Too harmless.

"Come in," she said, slowly standing.

Lady Mirea glided in like perfume, her gown a deep violet, the color of bruises and nightshade. She curtsied with grace, eyes twinkling beneath dark lashes.

"I brought you tea," she said gently. "I heard you were unwell."

Athena didn’t trust her. She never had.

Mirea was one of the King’s inner circle—too close, too poised, and far too quiet to be innocent. She was always around when things went wrong. When secrets disappeared. When people fell from favor.

Still, Athena took the cup.

"What kind of tea?"

"Oh, just a calming blend." Mirea smiled wider. "For body and soul."

Lucas stepped forward. "She doesn’t need—"

But Athena waved him off and sipped. Just enough to be polite.

And instantly regretted it.

The effect was immediate.

Her body convulsed as if struck. The cup shattered to the floor as she dropped it, clutching her abdomen. Heat slammed into her like a tidal wave, more powerful than anything she’d felt—even during the bond awakening.

"Lucas—" she gasped. "Something’s—"

Lucas caught her just before she hit the ground.

Her eyes rolled back, her breathing sharp and rapid. The bond flared again—violently, uncontrolled. Her skin burned against his touch, and every nerve lit up with unbearable lust and agony.

"She’s been drugged," Lucas snarled, turning to Mirea. "What did you give her?"

But the woman’s sweet expression didn’t falter.

"I simply helped her embrace her divine nature. The palace needs balance, and she—" she gestured to the trembling girl in Lucas’s arms— "is the storm we’ve all been waiting for."

"I was ordered," Mirea continued softly. "To loosen the tether. To accelerate her evolution."

"By who?" Lucas barked.

But they already knew.

The King.

The one who’d welcomed Athena with false kindness. The one who praised her strength, then surrounded her with cages she couldn’t see. He feared her. But he also wanted to own her.

If she mated fully while in heat, vulnerable, marked, she’d be bond-locked. Bound by magic and power, easier to control. Her strength would feed the throne.

It was never about helping her.

It was always about using her.

Athena writhed in Lucas’s arms, sweat pouring down her skin. She moaned low in her throat, not from desire but need—raw and chemically twisted.

The tea was laced with something ancient. Not just aphrodisiacs—heat amplifiers. Banned among unmated she-wolves for centuries.

Because they made you desperate.

Addicted.

Easy to manipulate.

Her robe slipped down her shoulders, and she clawed at her own skin, panting. "Lucas—please—I can’t—I need—"

"I know," he whispered, his voice tortured. "I’ve got you. Just breathe."

But it was like trying to put out a wildfire with his hands.

"Let me call the healers," Lucas said.

"No," Mirea said softly. "Let her bond. It’s the only way. The King has already prepared a room. She will be treated with gentleness."

Lucas’s eyes turned murderous. "You mean someone else is waiting to claim her."

Mirea didn’t deny it.

A distant howl echoed from the lower levels of the palace. A male wolf, wild and hungry. Not Lucas. Not Cassius.

A chosen candidate.

One bound by oath to the throne.

Athena’s bond would be twisted into obedience—and her power drained directly into the King’s control.

Lucas roared.

He dropped Athena gently onto the bed, her body still trembling, then lunged toward Mirea.

It happened too fast.

One moment, Mirea was smug. The next, Lucas had slammed her against the wall, his forearm against her throat, claws extended.