The cell door slammed shut behind him, leaving Lyra in suffocating silence.
Alaric Draven. That was the name of the Alpha who had just offered her a bond cloaked in dominance and control. Not a mating bond forged by fate, but something far more dangerous: a Bloodbond, a vow etched in blood, bound by loyalty, submission, and consequence.
It wasn't a proposal.
It was a sentence.
She paced the cramped cell, trying to ignore the way her heart pounded with each step. No one in their right mind refused an Alpha's decree, not when death was the other option. But Lyra had survived long enough to know one truth: freedom, once lost, was almost impossible to reclaim.
And yet… there had been something in his eyes.
Not lust. Not desire.
Control. Strategy.
She wasn't a woman to him. She was a pawn. A risk worth calculating.
A heavy knock on the steel door startled her. It opened before she could respond, and two wolves in black tactical gear stepped inside.
"Alpha wants you," one said. His tone was firm, emotionless.
She didn't resist. Her legs ached as she followed them through a dim corridor that stretched endlessly in both directions, lit only by flickering bulbs overhead. She passed several rooms, some with locked doors, others with guards standing watch. This wasn't just a packhouse.
It was a fortress.
At the end of the hallway, a large door opened into a circular chamber filled with wolves guards, elders, and ranked members, all gathered under a high stone ceiling. It was the Alpha's Hall, the heart of Ravenguard authority. Everything in the room from the dark timber columns to the sigils etched in silver along the walls reeked of tradition and power.
In the center of it all stood Alaric, dressed in black, his presence as suffocating as it was magnetic. His shoulders were broad, his posture rigid, and his expression carved from stone. His steel eyes didn't leave her as she was escorted forward.
"Bring her," he ordered.
She was led to the middle of the circle where a faded red emblem of Ravenguard's crest was painted on the floor, a massive black wolf with eyes like fire.
"This rogue," Alaric began, addressing the room, "was caught trespassing in Ravenguard territory. Alone. Armed with nothing but a broken blade and an attitude."
A few chuckles rumbled through the crowd, but no one truly relaxed. This wasn't a joke. It was a formal judgment, and Alaric's word would decide her fate.
"By all rights," he continued, "she should be executed for crossing into sovereign land. She is unmarked, unaffiliated, and her presence during wartime cannot be ignored."
Murmurs broke out.
Lyra lifted her chin, forcing her voice to stay steady. "I didn't cross into your land by choice. I was running."
"From what?" one of the elders barked. "Rogues have no enemies but themselves."
"I was ambushed two nights ago. A patrol pack cornered me near the valley edge and chased me. I didn't know where I was going, I just knew I had to keep moving."
"And yet you survived," Alaric noted, folding his arms. "Not many rogues outrun full-blooded wolves."
She said nothing. Survival wasn't about strength. It was about instinct.
The room quieted as Alaric turned to the elders seated behind him.
"I have made my decision," he said. "She will not be executed."
Shock rippled through the crowd.
"She will be bound by oath to Ravenguard."
Now the murmurs turned to uproar. One Beta stood. "Alpha, this is madness. She's not one of us. Bloodbonding a rogue is dangerous. It's an open door to betrayal."
Alaric's voice sliced through the noise. "I don't make decisions without cause."
"She's an outsider!" the Beta snapped. "You can't trust"
"Neither could they trust me when I took this title," Alaric interrupted. "And yet I proved my worth."
Silence fell. No one dared challenge him further.
He turned to Lyra again. "You have a choice. Accept the Bloodbond, and you'll be under Ravenguard's protection. You'll live, eat, and train with the pack. You'll answer to me and me alone. You betray that bond"
"I know what happens," she cut in. "I've seen rogues punished."
He stepped closer, his voice lowering. "This isn't a punishment, Lyra. It's a claim. You will be marked, not as my mate, but as my bound."
Her lips parted slightly in disbelief. She'd heard of bound wolves, those who gave up their free will for the protection of a powerful Alpha. It was rare. Dangerous. And permanent.
"Why me?" she asked quietly. "There are dozens of wolves here who'd kill to serve you."
A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "They follow out of obligation. You… you bite."
She flinched at the word.
Before she could respond, he reached into his jacket and withdrew a small ceremonial blade, the same one he had shown her earlier.
The room hushed.
He extended it to her.
"Your blood, your vow," he said. "Right here. Right now."
Every part of her screamed to run.
But where would she go? Back into the woods? Into the jaws of another patrol?
Death was certain out there.
In here… the enemy had a name and rules. That gave her a fighting chance.
She took the blade.
Her fingers trembled as she slid it across her palm, not deep, but enough for blood to well up and spill onto the floor.
Alaric followed suit, slicing cleanly across his own palm. Without breaking eye contact, he stepped forward and pressed his hand to hers. Skin to skin. Blood to blood.
Heat shot through her arm, a strange warmth that made her breath catch. The bond wasn't magic, but it was real. A pact. A warning. A collar she couldn't see but would feel every time she disobeyed.
Alaric's voice rang out.
"By the laws of Ravenguard, I bind this rogue under Bloodbond. She answers to me, serves the pack, and lives by our laws. From this moment, her survival depends not on her name but on her loyalty."
The pack members bowed their heads.
Lyra stood still, her heartbeat thunderous in her ears, palm stinging, knees trembling.
It was done.
She was bloodbound.
After the ceremony, she was taken to a new room not a prison, but not quite freedom either. It was cleaner, warmer, and had an actual bed. A fresh set of clothes rested on the chair, along with a black insignia patch bearing the Ravenguard crest.
The mark of the bound.
She didn't touch it.
Instead, she collapsed onto the bed and stared at the ceiling.
Bound.
To the most dangerous Alpha in the region.
Her freedom was gone but her life wasn't. For now.
And in the world she lived in,
that counted for something.
But deep down, one thought kept echoing louder than the rest:
What did Alaric Draven really want with her?