DOMINIC
I've never been one to let anything—anyone—distract me from my purpose. The pack, the estate, and my role as Alpha, all of it demanded complete focus. But when I first laid eyes on her, everything I thought I knew about control, about dominance, unraveled.
Lena.
The name settled into me with a weight I hadn't anticipated, as if it were a key unlocking something deep and primal inside me. Something I hadn't felt in, well, I couldn't remember how long. Not since I first embraced the pack's power and learned to bend it to my will. But this? This was different. The pull was magnetic, almost as if the earth itself was shifting beneath me to create a direct path to her.
The moment our gazes met, I felt it—that electric surge. A pull so fierce it shot through my veins, my body instantly attuned to hers. I knew what it was. The bond. The thing that every Alpha dreams of, though none ever speak of it.
But this? This woman—this human—had no business being here. And she definitely had no place being mine.
Except she was.
I had to keep my focus. I couldn't let the near-uncontrollable urge that swelled within me take control, not in front of my pack and people. They would see it and feel it, and I would not hesitate or show weakness, not here on this night. They would question my judgment, my authority. I was Alpha. I was meant to be above this kind of temptation. I had other responsibilities, hell, I had a commitment to another woman—bigger problems than the presence of a single, terrified woman. But there was something about her—the way she felt so undeniably right.
I watched her stir, the slow, hesitant blink as Lena came to. The subtle movement of her chest lifting and falling, her breath shallow, caught somewhere between confusion and panic. Her eyes fluttered open, her gaze darting around the room, panic rising in her expression. I held myself still, amazed that she didn't seem to notice me, grateful for the extra second to take her in.
For a moment, I thought she might scream. I wouldn't have blamed her. She had no idea what kind of world she had stepped into. None of this was supposed to be like this.
She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be nothing more than a passing moment, an inconsequential slip-up on her part where she was sent on her way, confused but unaware. Yet, the way her presence felt like a punch to the gut left me with the distinct sense that I had made a mistake somewhere. And I didn't make mistakes.
But the bond was already there, and there was no denying it. It pulled at both of us, tugging at her as she struggled to regain control. I could feel the sharpness of her resistance, the flicker of fear behind her eyes as her senses took in the vast, unfamiliar space around her.
I didn't allow my gaze to wander; I kept my eyes fixed on her, scanning the little details. The soft curve of her lips, the way she was still too delicate to be here, too fragile for my world. I took a breath, feeling the heat of the room press in around us. I couldn't help it. The energy between us was magnetic, the pull unbearable.
One hand went to her chest, her breath quickening as she pressed the other against the soft sheets. Her fingers gripped the fabric as if she were trying to ground herself in reality. She was afraid. I could see it in the way her body held itself, in the rapid pulse in her neck. But there was something else, something deeper beneath the fear—a hint of confusion and curiosity.
I couldn't let her feel so vulnerable. Especially not when she turned her wide, startled eyes to me as if she'd been looking for me.
"You're safe," I said, my voice low, controlled. My hand was still clenched in a fist by my side, the urge to touch her, to feel that bond grow, gnawing at me. I resisted, but just. "You're in my estate."
Her eyes narrowed, disbelief flashing across her face, but she didn't say anything immediately. Instead, she moved, suddenly trying to disentangle from the sheets, as if ready to flee. Her panic was palpable, and I could feel her heart racing even from a distance. I couldn't let her leave—not like this, not when she was in danger for what she was to me, not before she was mine.
I was on her in a heartbeat, my hand gentle on her shoulder to keep her from getting up. The moment my fingers brushed against her skin, something stirred inside me, a low, steady pulse of recognition—the bond. The pull was stronger now that we were close, like a wire humming between us.
Her muscles tensed beneath my hand, but I didn't move away. She tried to jerk away from me, but I wasn't going to let her run, not now, not ever.
"You need to calm down," I told her, my voice firm but soft. It was an order, but I made sure it wasn't harsh, not wanting to overpower her. There was no need to frighten her more than she already was. The situation was out of control, yes, but we would find our balance. "I'm not going to hurt you. You're safe."
Her lips parted, and her eyes flashed with a kind of fire that surprised me. "What are you talking about? Safe? I've been kidnapped!"
The word stung, and for a moment, I couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt claw at me. I had no intention of doing this to her, but the bond was something beyond my control. And now, she was mine, and I would protect her. I had no choice; to let her leave would be like ripping my lungs out and telling me to breathe. Her eyes narrowed, her jaw tightening. "Let me go. I'm not staying here."
"You don't have a choice," I said, my voice low, the weight of the truth behind the words pressing down on both of us. The bond between us grew stronger with every word, every breath. She could feel it, whether she wanted to or not.
She was mine. She just didn't know what it meant.
Her hand shot out, slapping at my arm as if she could break free, but it was nothing more than a gesture of frustration and resistance. It endeared her to me, but I wasn't going to give her an inch.
I moved in closer, making sure my presence loomed over her. "You're not leaving here until you understand who you belong to."
She stiffened, but I could see the flicker of understanding in her eyes, and beneath that panic and anger.
"You think I'll just—what, roll over for you?" Her voice was tinged with both disbelief and challenge.
I didn't answer her right away, too consumed with images of her doing just that, the bond pulling at me to claim her. I let the silence stretch between us, feeling the charge in the air, the tension that neither of us could ignore. The pull of the bond was undeniable, and I could see it in her eyes—her reluctance, her fear, but also the slightest crack of curiosity. She wanted to fight it, but she couldn't, not really, not long term.
"You will," I said, my voice steady, the authority of my words cutting through the air. "You're mine, Lena. Whether you like it or not."
Her breath hitched, a mix of confusion and rage. She opened her mouth to argue, but I saw the hesitation in her eyes. The bond was pulling at her, gently but surely, like a current beneath the surface that she couldn't see but could feel with every beat of her heart.
I watched her struggle to process it all, her brow furrowing, her hands fidgeting at her sides. She didn't know it yet, but I could already feel her giving in to it. That's how it worked, after all. The bond was a force, and once it had you, there was no escape.
I didn't want to force her. I wanted her to understand. I wanted her to come to me willingly. But I would make her see. I would make her understand that she belonged to me just as I belonged to her.
She wasn't ready. No, not yet. But she would be.
I saw her shaking her head, still defiant, still fighting the inevitable. But I couldn't bring myself to care. I had her now.
She was my mate, my responsibility, my future. And no one—not even my pack—would tear her from me.
Not now. Not ever.