STARLIGHT PROMISE:"Bound to the Lycan"

Chapter 40

UNKNOWN POV;
                                The first thing I see is her smile. The world around her seems dull in comparison, as if all other colors have faded. She moves through the mall's entrance like a single spark in a dark forest, igniting everything in her path, and I am mesmerized. After so long, she's finally out, finally here, under the open sky, her beauty on display. Every instinct I possess rises to the surface, demanding I stay near, keep watch, remain close enough to protect her — or claim her.

My senses sharpen, and her scent reaches me, sweet and heady, so distinct that it wipes everything else from my mind. She's all I can see, I think to myself. She's mine, mine to protect, mine to cherish. Every fiber of my being pulses with that truth.

The only reason I even know she'd be here today is because of Drake. I owe him for this — he did well. I wasn't sure I'd ever get a chance like this, not with how carefully they've guarded her. But today, she's here, out in the open, and nothing could keep me away.

Of course, Wilder is with her. That bumbling fool can't be trusted to protect her as she deserves, not really. He's a mere placeholder, a nuisance, a wall between her and me. I clench my jaw, holding down the possessive snarl that rises to the surface as he hovers too close to her. But his time is short-lived. He's here now, yes, but that won't always be the case. One day soon, I'll be the only one by her side.

For now, I follow quietly, remaining in the shadows, my eyes never leaving her form as she moves from shop to shop. I watch the way her expression shifts, how her eyes light up as she examines everything around her, her smile pulling me deeper under her spell. She moves with a grace that is unselfconscious, unaware of how every tilt of her head, every glint in her eye, draws me in further.

There is an innocence about her that draws me like a magnet, a purity that awakens something fierce and protective within me. Her beauty, understated yet intense, calls to something primal. She is a treasure, unclaimed, innocent, and unaware of the depths of my obsession. Yet. Soon enough, she will understand — I'll make certain of it.

I trail her as she explores, taking in every shift of her body, every flash of her eyes. I can feel a possessive fire building in my chest, a need that grows with each passing second. She is mine, even if she doesn't know it yet. And I will make her see it, feel it, understand it.

"Zale won't be able to take his eyes off you," I hear that spoilt brat say, her voice playful, light. The comment, innocent though it may be, ignites a surge of anger within me. How dare anyone else speak about her as though they could even fathom her worth? How dare anyone presume to understand the depth of my desire, my claim?

My fists clench, and for a moment, I feel my control slipping. I want to reveal myself, to mark her as mine, to show the world that she belongs to me and me alone. But I restrain myself. The time isn't right, not yet. There will be a moment, soon enough, when I won't have to hide, when she will be mine openly, and no one will stand between us.

She wanders into another store, her eyes landing on a dress. I watch as she examines it, the soft fabric gliding through her fingers, her expression one of wonder. Then, she heads toward the fitting rooms, and my pulse quickens. This is my chance. I wait, biding my time as her friends leave her for a moment, giving me the opening I've been waiting for.

I slip into the fitting room area, my footsteps silent, my focus solely on her. The moment I enter, her scent hits me like a wave — sweet, enticing, pure. It wraps around me, filling my senses, clouding my thoughts. She stands with her back to me, unaware, her shoulders bare as she adjusts the dress. Her skin is soft, unmarked by the harshness of the world, save for a few scars — marks that only serve to enhance her beauty. They tell a story of resilience, of strength, and I feel a surge of pride that this is the woman I have chosen.

"Can you zip my dress up for me, Zora?" she asks, her voice soft, delicate. She thinks I'm her. The realization sends a thrill through me. A smirk forms on my lips as I move closer, unable to resist the magnetic pull between us. I reach out, fingers grazing her bare skin as I take hold of the zipper. Slowly, deliberately, I pull it up, savoring every inch of contact, every brush of my fingers against her warm, bare back.

"You look so beautiful, mia cara," I whisper, unable to hold back the words. They slip out, laced with a hunger I can no longer hide. The moment she hears my voice, she freezes, her body tense with shock. I feel her pulse quicken beneath my touch, her breathing shallow, and the fear radiating from her only heightens my desire. This is what she does to me — she stirs something fierce, something possessive, something that will not be denied.

"I think you got the wrong person," she whispers, her voice barely audible, innocent and uncertain. As if I could mistake her for anyone else. Her scent, her warmth, her very essence — I know her in a way that no one else ever could. She is unforgettable, and I could find her in a crowd, in the darkest night.

"I am never wrong when it comes to you, Amora." Her name rolls off my tongue, soft yet possessive. I can feel her tension, her confusion, and a surge of satisfaction fills me. She tries to turn toward me, but I tighten my grip, holding her steady. Not yet. She can't see me yet. The mystery, the anticipation, it's all part of the game. This dance of shadows and stolen moments, this unspoken bond between us — it's building toward something she doesn't yet understand.

My hands drift down, tracing her neck, trailing lower as her body shivers beneath my touch. She's afraid, yes, but there's something else there, something neither of us fully comprehends yet. She doesn't know me, not truly, but she will. Soon enough, she'll understand what it means to be mine.

I murmur reassurances, promises that she'll understand in time. She's mine to protect, to cherish, to possess. Very soon, she will know me. She'll understand that every look, every touch, every stolen moment has been leading to a single, inevitable conclusion. But for now, this is enough. Just knowing that I have the power to make her tremble, that I am the one who exists in the shadows of her life, watching, waiting. She may not see me, but she'll feel me, my presence lingering long after I'm gone.

I slip away quietly, ensuring she doesn't sense my departure. I can hear her breath, still shallow, and I smile, knowing I've left my mark. When she emerges, her friends will distract her, and my absence will be dismissed as a trick of her mind. But I know better. She'll remember this moment, feel it in her bones.

As I return to my pack, I feel the weight of my desire, the ache she's left behind. This obsession, this craving — it's a torment that only she can soothe. But until that day, I'll wait, using whatever means I can to channel this energy. She will do for now, a mere distraction, a placeholder for the satisfaction only she can bring.

She is my muse, my obsession, my future. She just doesn't know it yet. Soon, she'll understand that she belongs to me, that every moment, every breath has led her to this — to me. And on that day, no one will stand between us. Not Wilder, not her fears, not even fate itself. Until then, I watch, I wait, and I prepare for the day when she is finally, irrevocably mine.