The chanting rises, a terrible, grating symphony that scrapes against Kyle's skin.
It grows louder and louder, the air itself vibrating with the force of it.
The magic slams down on him, heavier than stone, suffocating him until he can't even lift a finger.
He can't move, can't think, can't even smell Lucan anymore.
It's like the world has closed in, leaving him trapped in a void of fire and agony.
He tries to fight, tries to call out, but no sound leaves his lips.
The only thing he can feel now is the magic, thick and corrosive, sinking into his bones, clawing into his soul.
It burns him from the inside out, setting every nerve on fire. His body arches against the invisible weight crushing him down, but there's no relief, no escape.
Inside him, the beast stirs, not his wolf, the beast, the creature he has always known is inside of him, but today he can barely recognize it, today it feel like something darker, something foreign and more monstrous.
It claws at his insides, desperate to break free, and every tear of its claws feels like a blade slicing through flesh and bone.
Kyle's heart shatters under the strain.
A broken, raw cry escapes him, a sound ripped straight from his soul.
Lucan's scent... it's gone.
Snuffed out like a candle in a storm.
Hope already drained from Kyle the moment Lucan's scent was gone, leaving nothing but hollow despair.
There's no one coming for him. No one to save him. He is alone, truly, helplessly alone, and the witches' magic is swallowing him whole.
He has given up, he has decided to let whatever was meant to happen_ to happen.
The chanting intensifies, their voices crashing over him like tidal waves.
Pain explodes behind his eyes. His vision blurs. His body jerks uncontrollably as the beast inside him roars and thrashes, trying to take over.
He's losing.
He knows it.
He feels it.
His bones crack and shift, his muscles stretch beyond their limits. It's happening, the transformation he has fought against all along, the one thing he fears most.
He cries out again, the sound raw and broken. His eyes burn hotter, turning red, glowing like embers in the dim room, lighting up the space with an eerie, inhuman light.
The witches cheer, their voices rising in triumph.
Kyle gasps, a sob rattling through him.
This is it.
This is the end.
But then... The door crashes inward.
Not just opens, explodes, torn from its hinges and thrown across the room with a deafening bang.
The witches freeze, the chant breaking apart into startled gasps. The force of the door slamming down sends dust and sparks flying into the heavy air.
Kyle can feel the transformation stop, and his own human form takes over again.
Standing in the shattered doorway is a creature_ tall, broad, terrifying, fur all over the body, shaper fangs, longer claws, most angry face.
Standing in the shattered doorway looms a beast _ tall, broad, and terrifying.
Thick fur covers its powerful body, muscles rippling with every breath.
Its fangs are sharper, longer than any creature they have ever seen, and deadly claws gleam in the broken light.
Rage twists its face into a monstrous snarl, eyes burning with a feral, murderous fury.
A wolf, but larger than any they had ever seen.
Although It looks familiar to Kyle. He had seen it the night he was kidnapped by the Drankereds, the night it saved him. But today, it looks different- fiercer, almost unrecognizable.
While the witches remain frozen, struggling to comprehend what they're seeing, the creature doesn't hesitate. It moves- faster than sight, faster than thought.
The witches stand in horror, frozen mid-step, mid-chant. As if trying to understand it before acting.
But one by one, they are swept off their feet, tossed aside like rag dolls before they can even scream.
The creature doesn't stop, doesn't falter. It cuts a path straight through them with devastating precision.
In one fluid, breathtaking motion, it reaches Kyle.
Kyle barely has time to register the blur of movement before strong arms scoop him up, cradling him against a broad, solid chest.
Warmth floods him_ familiar, safe.
Lucan,
Even in this monstrous form, even hidden beneath layers of power and rage, Kyle knows.
Even After being with him just one night, he knows.
He feels it in the way Lucan holds him, in the way his heart beats, steady and fierce, against Kyle's side.
They disappear.
One blink, and they're gone, vanishing into the thin air like smoke slipping through grasping fingers.
The witches scream, but it's too late.
The building shudders as the remaining magic twists and collapses without its intended vessel.
Candles flicker and die. The heavy, oppressive air thins, leaving only the stench of failure behind.
Kyle clutches at Lucan instinctively, too weak to speak, too overwhelmed to think.
The world tilts and spins around him as Lucan moves fast, faster than anything Kyle has ever known, tearing through the forest with a speed that defies logic.
Wind lashes against Kyle's skin, cold and biting, but he doesn't care.
He buries his face into Lucan's chest, into the thick fur that smells like safety, like life.
Tears spill from his eyes_ silent, uncontrollable.
He thought it was over.
He thought he was doomed.
And yet...
Here he is.
Alive.
Held tightly in arms that refuse to let him go.
For the first time since the nightmare began, Kyle lets himself believe, truly believe, that he might be okay.
That Lucan will never let anything happen to him again.
So maybe it's time he stops running.
Maybe it's time he fights, not just for the mate bond tying them together, but for something even deeper. Something he feels with every broken piece of himself: love. Something he feels Lucan bares for him too.
When he tells Lucan everything, really tells him, maybe Lucan will finally see.
Maybe if he explains that he is the cursed boy they've been hunting, but that none of it is his fault, that he never asked for this, never wanted to be different, maybe Lucan will understand.
Maybe if he says how desperately he wishes he were just a normal wolf, how all he wants is to belong... to him.
Maybe if he bares it all, that he has no loyalty to the witches, that he would rather die than help them hurt their kind, maybe Lucan will hear him.
Maybe if he says the truth that's been locked inside his aching chest:
I want you to love me, not despite what I am, but because of it.
Maybe then, Lucan will stay.
~A low, deep rumble cuts through Kyle's desperate thoughts, a growl that vibrates from Lucan's chest into Kyle's very bones.
It's not a sound of anger.
It sounds like a promise.
A promise of vengeance against anyone who dares hurt him.
A promise of safety in arms that will never let him fall.
A promise of love so fierce it could break the curse itself.
Kyle clings tighter, too drained to lift his head, too afraid to loosen his grip even a little.
He squeezes his burning eyes shut, breathing in the scent of Lucan, feeling the thunder of his heart, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sheer life pouring off of him, anchoring him, grounding him.
And for the first time in too long, Kyle dares to hope.
Hope that maybe, just maybe, he's finally found where he belongs.
Right here, in the arms of the one person who refused to let him go. He belongs to him, despite of what he is, despite of his secrets.