The moment the door to Kaelen’s chambers sealed shut behind us, I tried to rip my arm free. His grip didn’t loosen. It tightened.
“Let go of me,” I said, low and steady, my voice cutting through the thick silence of the corridor. The torchlight flickered against the stone walls, casting long, shifting shadows. We were alone now—just the two of us, the weight of the bond, and the truth I couldn’t escape.
He turned, slow, deliberate, his golden eyes locking onto mine. The air between us crackled—not with magic this time, but with something darker. Something older. Power. Possession. Hunger.
“You’re in my territory now,” he said, voice like gravel underfoot. “And you don’t give orders here.”
I didn’t flinch. “I’m not your prisoner.”
“No.” His thumb brushed over the pulse in my wrist—once, twice. A slow, deliberate stroke. “You’re my mate. Which means you’re bound to me by law, by magic, and by something even deeper. And until I say otherwise, you stay where I can see you.”
My breath hitched. Not from fear. Not from submission. But from the way his touch sent a jolt straight through the bond, straight into my core. My body betrayed me—heat pooling low in my belly, my skin flushing, my nipples tightening beneath the thin fabric of my robe. I clenched my jaw, furious at myself. This wasn’t desire. It was chemistry. Biology. A fucked-up supernatural glitch that made my body respond to him like a starving animal to meat.
He saw it. Of course he saw it. His nostrils flared slightly, his gaze dropping to my throat, where my pulse hammered. A slow, knowing smirk curled his lips.
“You feel it,” he murmured. “Even when you hate me, your body knows the truth.”
“My body doesn’t know shit,” I snapped, yanking my arm back with a sharp twist. This time, he let me go. “And if you think this bond gives you the right to lock me up like some caged pet, you’re even more of a monster than I thought.”
He didn’t answer. Just stepped past me and pushed open the heavy oak door to his chambers.
I hesitated.
The room beyond was vast—high ceilings carved with ancient lupine sigils, a fire roaring in the hearth, furs and leather strewn across the floor. A massive bed dominated the far end, draped in black wolf pelts. Weapons lined the walls—blades, axes, fangs mounted like trophies. This was the den of a predator. A king.
And now, apparently, mine.
I stepped inside. The door slammed shut behind me. No handle on this side. No key. Just solid ironwood, sealed with a rune that pulsed faintly red—warded. Trapped.
“You’re confining me?” I turned on him, my voice sharp. “After what just happened? After you dragged me into this—this *bond*—you think I’ll just sit here and play obedient little mate?”
He crossed the room in three strides, his boots silent on the stone. “I think you’ll do exactly as I say,” he said, stopping inches from me. “Because if you don’t, I’ll have you chained. And I won’t be gentle about it.”
I laughed—short, bitter. “You don’t scare me.”
“No?” His hand shot out, gripping my waist, hauling me against him. The contact was electric. The bond flared, a hot pulse of energy that made my knees weak. My breath caught. His scent—storm and iron and something wild, untamed—flooded my senses, wrapping around me like a drug. “Then why are you shaking?”
I wasn’t. I wasn’t—except I was. My fingers trembled. My heart raced. And between my legs, a slow, insistent throb pulsed in time with his heartbeat, synced by the bond.
I shoved at his chest. “Get off me.”
He didn’t move. Just leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You came here to kill me,” he whispered. “But you don’t want to kill me now, do you?”
“I *do*,” I hissed, even as my body arched into him, traitorous, wanting. “I hate you. I hate what you are. What you did.”
“And yet,” he murmured, his hand sliding up my spine, “your body is begging for mine.”
I slapped him.
The crack echoed through the chamber. My palm stung. His head snapped to the side. For a heartbeat, the air froze.
Then he turned back, slow. His eyes were darker now—wolf-gold bleeding into black. A low growl rumbled in his chest. Not anger. Not pain. *Arousal.*
“Hit me again,” he said, voice rough. “I dare you.”
I didn’t. Because I knew what would happen. I’d seen it in the way his pupils dilated, in the way his grip tightened on my waist. He wasn’t just turned on—he was *dominated* by it. The slap hadn’t angered him. It had *excited* him. And that terrified me more than any threat.
Because if he liked it when I fought back, then every move I made would only feed him.
I stepped back, breaking contact. The loss of his heat was like a physical ache. The bond hummed, dissatisfied, *hungry.*
“Stay the hell away from me,” I said, voice shaking. “I don’t belong to you.”
He watched me, silent, as I turned and strode toward the far end of the room. There was a balcony there, overlooking the Black Forest. Moonlight spilled through the arched stone, silver and cold. I needed air. Space. Anything to escape the suffocating weight of his presence, of the bond, of the way my body still burned for him.
I reached the balcony, gripped the stone railing, and closed my eyes.
Breathe. Just breathe.
But even here, I couldn’t escape him. His scent clung to my skin. The bond pulsed beneath my ribs, a constant, maddening thrum. And worse—worse—was the way my body responded. My nipples were hard. My thighs pressed together, trying to ease the ache between them. My breath came in shallow, uneven gasps.
This wasn’t me. This wasn’t who I was. I was a hunter. A killer. I didn’t *crave*. I didn’t *want*. Not like this. Not for a man like him.
And yet.
I opened my eyes, staring out at the endless trees, the distant howl of a wolf echoing through the night. My sister’s face flashed behind my eyes—her smile, her laugh, the way she’d looked at me the last time I saw her, moments before they took her. She’d trusted the Council. Trusted the treaties. Trusted that peace was possible.
And they’d slaughtered her for it.
I clenched my fists. I hadn’t come here for love. I hadn’t come here for desire. I’d come for *justice*. For *revenge*. And now—now I was trapped. Bound to the very man who’d signed her death warrant.
“You’re thinking about her.”
I didn’t turn. I didn’t need to. Kaelen was behind me, close enough that I could feel the heat of his body, smell the storm on his skin.
“Stay out of my head,” I said.
“I don’t need to be in your head,” he said. “I can smell it. Grief. Rage. Guilt.” He stepped closer. “You think I don’t know what it cost you to come here? To walk into this court knowing what I am? What I’ve done?”
“You approved the treaty,” I said, voice raw. “You let them sacrifice her.”
“I didn’t.”
I spun. “Don’t lie to me.”
His eyes held mine, unflinching. “I *opposed* it. I argued against it. But the Council voted. The Fae High Prince promised peace. I believed him.”
I stared at him. “You expect me to believe that?”
“No,” he said. “I expect you to hate me. I expect you to fight me. I expect you to try to kill me.” He took another step, until we were nearly touching. “But I also expect you to *see* me. Not the monster they’ve made me out to be. Not the Alpha. But the man who’s standing in front of you, who just felt his fated mate for the first time in three hundred years—and knows she wants to destroy him.”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. Because for the first time, I saw it—the flicker of pain in his eyes, the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers curled at his sides, like he was fighting not to reach for me.
And God help me, I *felt* it. The bond wasn’t just physical. It was emotional. I could sense his turmoil, his regret, the weight of his guilt. It echoed in my own chest, a mirror of my grief.
“You’re lying,” I whispered, but my voice lacked conviction.
“Am I?” He lifted a hand, slow, giving me time to pull away. I didn’t. His fingers brushed my cheek, calloused and warm. “You can scent lies, can’t you? You’re half-witch. You know when someone’s deceiving you.”
I did. And I couldn’t smell a lie on him.
My breath caught.
He leaned in, his lips hovering just above mine. “I didn’t kill your sister,” he said, voice rough. “But I failed her. And I will spend every day making it right—if you’ll let me.”
For a heartbeat, I thought he would kiss me.
And for a heartbeat, I thought I would let him.
Then the bond flared—hot, sudden, overwhelming. A pulse of pure need ripped through me, so intense I gasped. My body arched toward him, my hands flying to his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt. My core clenched, wet, aching. His scent flooded my senses, intoxicating, maddening. I could *taste* him—storm and iron and something deeper, something primal.
He groaned, low and rough, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me flush against him. I could feel his erection, hard and thick against my stomach. The heat of it seared through the layers of fabric, branding me.
“Sloane,” he growled, his voice ragged. “Look at me.”
I did. His eyes were black now, pupils blown wide with desire. His fangs were bared, just slightly. He was losing control. And so was I.
“This isn’t real,” I panted. “It’s the bond. It’s magic.”
“It’s *us*,” he said, his hand sliding up my spine, into my hair. “The magic doesn’t create this. It just *reveals* it.”
“No—”
“Yes.” He kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle. *Furious.* A claiming. A battle. His lips crashed against mine, demanding, devouring. I fought him—bit his lip, twisted in his grip, tried to shove him away. But my body betrayed me, arching into him, my tongue sliding against his, my hands clawing at his back.
He groaned, deep in his chest, and lifted me, pressing me against the stone railing. One hand tangled in my hair, holding me in place. The other slid beneath my robe, rough fingers tracing the curve of my hip, my thigh.
“You’re mine,” he growled against my mouth. “Say it.”
“Never.” I bit his lip again, hard enough to draw blood.
He didn’t pull back. Just laughed, dark and rough, and kissed me harder.
Then—
A knock at the door.
We froze.
The bond still thrummed between us, hot and insistent, but the moment was broken. Kaelen pulled back slowly, his breath ragged, his eyes still black with need. He didn’t release me. Just rested his forehead against mine, his chest heaving.
“Yes?” he snapped, voice rough.
“Alpha,” came a voice from the other side. Draven. His lieutenant. “The Council requests your presence. They’re demanding answers about the bond.”
Kaelen didn’t move. Just kept his eyes on me, his thumb brushing the pulse in my neck.
“Tell them I’m occupied,” he said. “I’ll attend when I’m ready.”
“They’re insisting, Alpha.”
“Then they can wait.”
A pause. Then footsteps retreating.
Kaelen exhaled, long and slow. “This isn’t over,” he said, stepping back, releasing me. “You’re mine, Sloane. And I don’t care if you hate me. I don’t care if you try to kill me. You’re not leaving my side.”
I didn’t answer. Just wrapped my arms around myself, trying to steady my breathing, trying to ignore the way my body still burned for him.
He turned to leave.
“Kaelen.”
He stopped, glancing back.
“I *will* destroy you,” I said, voice low, raw. “No matter what this bond says. No matter what you do.”
He smiled. Not kind. Not warm. A predator’s smile.
“Good,” he said. “Means you feel it too.”
Then he was gone, the door sealing shut behind him.
I stood there, trembling, my body still humming with need, my heart pounding with rage.
I had come here to kill him.
And now, I wasn’t sure I could.
But worse—worse—was the terrifying thought that maybe, just maybe, I didn’t *want* to.