C4 FOUR

Through the evening, I paced back and forth in my room, each step feeding the anxiety clawing at my chest. Kane would be home soon—I could feel it, even before the sound of his car pulling into the driveway. Lucy, my stepmother, hadn’t been around for a week. Her absence didn’t matter; she wouldn’t have helped me anyway. I was alone. Alone in this house, waiting for the moment when Kane would come through the door.

When his car engine cut off, my breath caught, and my heart raced wildly against my ribs. I didn’t need to see him to know he was near. His presence was like a suffocating force, heavy and oppressive. I held my breath, my hands fisted, my eyes wide as the energy radiating off his presence wrapped around me, suffocating, smoldering.

I could feel every part of his being and was sure he did me too.

Boots crunched on dry leaves outside. My body tensed. By the time the front door knob turned, I was already moving, bolting out of my room and into the darkened living room. The air was thick with dread, my feet stumbling over the edges of the coffee table as I made for the back door. My hands trembled violently as I fumbled with the knob, my fingers slick with sweat.

“Feyre…” His voice growled in my head, deep and dangerous, stopping me cold. It wasn’t a shout—it didn’t need to be. The sheer weight of his tone pressed against me, freezing my limbs for a terrifying second.

I yanked the door open, the iron screeching against its hinges. A blast of icy night air hit me, sharp and punishing, but I didn’t stop. I plunged into the dark, the cold biting at my skin as I ran across the ground toward the woods, the sounds of my boots crunching leaves terrifying me, I might as well be sticking a light on my forehead with such noise, like I was begging Kane to find me.

“You really think you can outrun me, little mate?” Kane’s voice mocked, calm and laced with amusement. He was close—too close—but I didn’t dare look back.

Branches whipped at my face and arms as I tore into the forest, tearing at my skin. My chest burned, and my legs ached, but the fear propelling me was stronger than the pain. My breath came in ragged gasps, clouding the air as I pushed myself harder.

“Do you know what happens when I catch you?" he whispered in my mind, his voice smooth and cruel. “Shall I tell you, or would you rather find out?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Every ounce of my focus was on staying ahead of him.

When I finally stopped, my body gave out. Collapsing against a tree, I gulped air, my lungs burning as my heart pounded like a war drum. The forest around me was eerily silent—too silent. No rustling leaves, no distant howls. Just my own laboured breathing. My breaths escaping me in pants and gasps as I struggled to have oxygen cascade down my system.

“Do you hear that?” Kane’s voice came again, softer now, dripping with menace. “That’s the sound of the hunt, Feyre. No one’s coming to save you.”

I had seen Kane hunt countless of time in the past few years, competing against the strongest, toughest men in the pack and always won. His hunting technique was brutal. He knew how to drag and slow down the torture of his prey till the animal—a sheep, an antelope, whatever animal he'd caught would cry in desperation as he tore them from limp to limp, keeping them alive till he felt fulfilled enough to let them succumb to the pain and die.

It wasn't a pretty image, but I imagined myself in place of those animals at the pack square today. Being shredded to piece, one finger at a time if he though it was amusing to prolong my torture.

I whipped around, my eyes scanning the shadows, but there was nothing. Just darkness and the oppressive quiet of the woods. My pulse thundered in my ears, drowning out everything else.

Then I heard it—a twig snapping in the distance.

“Kane?” I whispered aloud, my voice trembling.

“Close,” he replied, his voice echoed in my mind.

A shadow moved between the trees, too fast to track. I stumbled backwards, my legs wobbling beneath me. My lips quivered as I fought the urge to scream, my breaths coming in shallow, panicked gasps. I whipped around, over and over again, trying to pinpoint what location he was going to burst out from.

The moment my back collided with something solid, I froze. Not a tree. Not a rock. Warm breath fanned against the back of my neck, hot and damp, as a low growl rumbled behind me.

“Run,” Kane’s voice commanded, cold and deliberate. “But not toward the village. Deeper into the forest. Give me a real chase.”

Tears blurred my vision as I turned slowly, my movements stiff with terror. Kane’s wolf stood before me, massive and imposing, his golden-black fur shimmering in the faint moonlight. His silver eyes glowed with an unnatural light, pinning me in place. Werewolves from our clan were huge, terrifyingly. The smallest you'd meet was effortlessly three times the size of an average human. But Kane's? They were one of the biggest I'd laid my eyes on, a runner up to my late father's wolf and yes, Kayden’s.

“You always were fragile,” he said, his tone almost pitying. “But this isn’t about survival, Feyre. Not for you.”

I wanted to beg. To plead for mercy. But the words wouldn’t come. My throat was too tight, choked with fear.

The wolf tilted his head, saliva dripping from his fangs onto the ground. When he spoke again, his voice was sharp and cutting in my head. “I, Kane Atlas of the Blackoak Clan, reject you as my mate.”

The words hit me like a blade, slicing through something deep inside. My knees buckled, and I fell to the ground, tears streaming down my face as pain exploded in my chest.

“I…” My voice cracked, barely audible through the agony. “I, Feyre Atlas, accept your rejection.”

The bond shattered, and the pain that followed was indescribable. It was as if every part of me had been torn apart, ripped from my soul. I gasped, clutching at my chest as I writhed in the dirt.

Kane’s wolf stepped closer, his massive paw pressing down on my shoulder, pinning me there.

“Now," he said, his voice calm and cruel. “I’ll count to ten. Run.”