The lodge was quiet, but the silence was a fragile thing, stretched thin like glass that could shatter under the weight of a single word. Outside, dawn had just begun to touch the forest with pale light, but the shadows of the night still clung to the trees, thick and unyielding. The battle was over, the rogues driven back or slain, and yet the air inside the walls still carried the raw scent of blood and smoke, of violence that would not easily be forgotten. Eve sat near the great hearth, wrapped in a wool blanket that scratched against her skin, but no warmth reached her. The embers glowed faintly, snapping every so often with a spark, and each sharp crack jolted her like the memory of claws slashing toward her. Her arm throbbed beneath the bandages, the ache a steady reminder of the strike that had nearly ended her. She could still feel the moment of contact, the searing fire of pain, the hot spill of blood that had called Kaelen's wolf into a frenzy.
It should have been terror that filled her—terror of the beasts that hunted these woods, terror of the strange law that bound her fate to the Alpha's will. And yet, worse than the fear, worse than the shadows lurking in the back of her mind, was the memory of him. The memory of his arms locking around her, of his hands pressing against her wound, of his voice rasping low with a promise he had no right to make. The words had seared her: She is mine. Spoken before his pack, spoken like a decree, like she belonged to him in a way she had never agreed to. She hated it. She hated the arrogance, the finality. But what she hated more was the heat that had surged through her body at the sound of it, the inexplicable way the bond had wrapped tighter around her soul, leaving her dizzy and weak.
She wanted to tell herself it wasn't real, that it was some trick, some illusion of shock and blood loss. But deep down, she knew. Whatever force bound him to her, it had sunk its claws into her too.
The door creaked, and the fragile silence shattered. Eve stiffened instantly, her head snapping toward the sound, heart hammering like a trapped bird. Kaelen stood in the doorway. He filled the space completely, shoulders squared, eyes silver and unreadable, his presence as heavy as the mountain itself. His dark hair was damp as though he had scrubbed himself clean of blood, but she swore she could still see it staining him, clinging to his skin like shadow. He hadn't slept—she could see it in the tension of his jaw, in the restless set of his shoulders.
The bond stirred before he even stepped inside, the pull as sharp as a chain yanking against her ribs. She hated that her breath hitched, that her body betrayed her with the racing of her pulse. She hated that a single glance from him could unravel the fragile wall she had been trying to build around herself.
"You had no right," she said. Her voice came out hoarse, but steady enough to hold the weight of her anger.
Kaelen's eyes narrowed, the faintest flicker of something passing across his face. He stepped into the room, his movements slow, deliberate, controlled. "No right?" His voice was low, and though it held no outward edge, it carried the dangerous calm of someone holding back a storm.
"You claimed me," Eve said, standing suddenly, throwing the blanket off her shoulders as though it burned. The tremor in her hands betrayed her fury and her fear, but she jabbed a finger toward him anyway, refusing to cower. "In front of everyone. You spoke as if it was final, as if I don't get a say, as if I'm just—just property."
His jaw clenched, his hands flexing at his sides. "It wasn't about ownership," he said, his voice rougher now. "It was about protection. They needed to know you were untouchable. That anyone who laid a hand on you would answer to me."
"I didn't ask for that!" she shouted, her voice breaking against the stillness. "I don't even want this!" The words tumbled out sharper than she meant, driven by the storm of confusion and fear inside her. Her chest heaved as she went on, desperate, furious. "I never asked to be dragged into your world, into your wars, into this insane bond. I just wanted my life back. I want to go home."
Kaelen's breath came short, his face twisting with something raw. For a heartbeat, she thought he would erupt, that he would snarl and rage like the wolf he was. But he stood utterly still, the storm contained in every line of his body, his silence heavier than any roar. His fists curled so tight his knuckles went white, and when he finally spoke, his voice was a rasp, strained and thick with emotion.
"And do you think I asked for this?" His words cut through the air like a blade. He took a step forward, shadows clinging to him like armor. "Do you think I wanted fate to put you in my path? I spent my life building walls, Eve. Walls so high and so strong I thought nothing could break them. I swore I would never be bound, never be chained by the bond that destroyed my father, that turned him into a slave to desire. I told myself I would be different. But then you were there, bleeding in the road, and I couldn't—" He broke off, his voice shattering, and his hands shook at his sides. "I couldn't walk away."
The rawness of his voice startled her more than any threat could have. Eve blinked, her fury faltering, her heart hammering painfully. She had wanted to believe he was cold, detached, a man who had chosen to trap her in his world without thought. But his words revealed something else entirely—something fragile and unwilling that mirrored her own turmoil. He was as trapped as she was.
She shook her head, trying to steady her breath, trying to rebuild her anger before it slipped away completely. "That doesn't mean you get to decide for both of us," she whispered.
His eyes flared, silver flashing bright in the dim room. In an instant, he was closer, his presence overwhelming, his height casting her in shadow. The air between them hummed, the bond tightening, pressing, urging her toward him even as her mind screamed to resist. "You think I don't know that?" His voice was low and fierce, each word pulled from deep within. "Every moment I fight myself, fight this thing, because I know what it means if I give in. I don't want to chain you here. I don't want you to hate me." His gaze bore into hers, and there was something desperate in it, something unguarded. "But if I lose control, if I lose you…" He stopped, his throat working, as if finishing the thought would be unbearable.
Her breath caught, her body trembling as the bond surged again, relentless, burning through every barrier she tried to build. She hated him for making her feel this way, hated the Moon for weaving her into something she didn't understand, hated herself for wanting to close the distance instead of widen it. She could feel the warmth of him, the heat of his skin radiating into her, the storm of his emotions beating against her through the bond.
"This isn't fair," she whispered, the words barely audible but laced with every ounce of her confusion and fear.
"No," Kaelen said, and his voice was quieter now, stripped of command and pride. His expression softened just enough for her to glimpse the man beneath the Alpha, weary and unarmored. "It isn't."
They stood locked in silence, the air vibrating between them, thick with all the words they couldn't say, all the truths neither wanted to face. Eve wanted to step back, to put space between them, but her body betrayed her, rooted in place, unwilling to move. She wanted to scream that she didn't want him, that she didn't want any of this, but her heart thundered so loudly she wasn't sure if she spoke, he wouldn't hear the lie.
Then Rowan's voice cut through the air from the doorway. "Scouts are back. More rogues on the borders." His tone was even, but his amber eyes flicked between them, sharp with unspoken knowledge. He knew what he had walked in on, knew what tension hummed in the space between them. He looked at his brother with a pointed steadiness. "Kaelen, they need you."
Kaelen didn't move at first. His eyes lingered on Eve, searching her face as though he might find some sliver of clarity there, some promise that she wouldn't vanish if he turned away. His hand twitched as though he wanted to reach for her, to hold her again, but he didn't. With visible effort, he stepped back, the weight of his presence retreating though the bond still thrummed in her chest like a wild drumbeat.
"Stay inside," he said, his voice quieter, gentler, though the command in it was still undeniable.
Eve opened her mouth, ready to argue, to remind him she wasn't his to order, but when she looked into his eyes, she found herself nodding instead. The bond pulled tight, smothering her rebellion, drowning her in its demand.
Kaelen turned and followed Rowan, his steps heavy, his shoulders stiff. The door shut behind them, and the silence returned, but it was heavier now, unbearable.
Eve sank back onto the bench, her body trembling, her hands pressed hard against her face. Her heart pounded so loud she thought it might break through her ribs. She wanted to scream, to run, to tear at the walls around her, but she sat frozen instead, trapped between the terror of his world and the dangerous, intoxicating pull of the man who had just claimed her before the Moon.