Chapter 2

ARIAI wrapped myself back in my blanket, my whole body shaking. The pull toward him was almost unbearable, like trying to resist gravity. I wanted to run to him. Wanted to find him.

The door at the bottom of the attic stairs was pushed open. I could hear heavy footsteps ascending the stairs and feel the overwhelming aura of a powerful alpha, making me shrink in on myself subconsciously.

Kael’s wolf, Ragnar, brushed against Eira’s mind. I felt him—pulling, probing, urgent. I can’t stay away. You’re mine, it pressed. Eira growled in warning, but his presence was too strong. Even Clarissa’s sharp gaze couldn’t hide her suspicion; she had no idea the bond had already taken hold.

No. Please, no.

The attic door opened.

And there, illuminated by the outside light, stood Alpha Kael Blackthorn.

His eyes were glowing red in the darkness. His chest was heaving like he had been running for miles, and he was staring at me with an intensity that sent shivers down my spine.

“You,” he breathed, his voice rough and desperate. “It’s you.”

I couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move. Could barely think about anything other than the overwhelming presence of him standing in my room.

Alpha Kael had never spoken to me before today. He had never even looked at me directly. I was beneath his notice—a servant, less than nothing in the hierarchy of the pack. And now he was here, in my room, staring at me like I’d just torn his world apart.

“Alpha,” I whispered, clutching my blanket to my chest. I was still naked from the shift, vulnerable in every possible way.

He took a step forward, then stopped himself, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. I could see the war happening inside him, could feel it through the bond that was now screaming between us like a live wire.

“This isn’t possible,” he said, more to himself than to me. “You’re… you’re just an omega.”

The words hit like a slap. Just an omega. As if that was all I’d ever be. As if the Moon Goddess herself hadn’t chosen us for each other.

Reject him, I thought desperately. Make him reject the bond. It’s better this way.

But my wolf, Eira, howled in protest, and I couldn’t make the words come out.

“I felt it,” he continued, taking another step closer. The attic was so small that he was nearly on top of me now. I could smell his scent, which made my wolf purr with satisfaction.

“The moment you shifted. The bond… it just appeared. Like someone had tied a rope around my chest and pulled.”

“I’m sorry,” I heard myself say. The absurdity of it almost made me laugh. Sorry for what? For existing? For being his mate when he didn’t want me?

His eyes flashed red for a moment as he growled. “Don’t apologize. Don’t you dare apologize for this.”

“Then what do you want me to say?” The words came out sharper than I’d intended. Braver. My wolf was lending me her strength, her courage. “You’re already mated. Already married. This bond is—it’s a mistake. It has to be.”

“The Moon Goddess doesn’t make mistakes.”

“Then what are you doing here?” I demanded, my fear transforming into anger and pain. “Did you come to tell me that you feel it too? That you want me? Because we both know that’s impossible. You have a Luna. You have a duty to the pack. And I’m just—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was a growl, pure alpha command.

But I’d been taking commands my entire life. I was done.

“I’m just an omega,” I said, throwing his own words back at him. “Weak. Insignificant. Not worth risking your political alliance for.”

He closed the distance between us in one step and grabbed my shoulders suddenly, his face mere inches from mine. The bond between us roared to life, pulling, demanding completion. I could feel his wolf rising to the surface.

“You think I want this?” he hissed. “You think I want to feel this pull toward someone I can’t have? I’ve spent years building this pack, maintaining alliances, keeping everything stable. And now you—” He cut himself off, his jaw clenching. “I have responsibilities. I have a mate.”

“You have a wife,” I corrected, my voice bitter. “It’s not the same thing. Everyone knows your marriage to Clarissa is political. Everyone knows you don’t love her.”

His hands tightened on my shoulders as he forced the words out, like they were bitter.

“Love has nothing to do with leadership. With duty. With—”

“With being happy?” I pulled away from him, or tried to. The bond made it physically painful to break contact. “You came here to tell me what? That we should ignore this? Pretend it doesn’t exist?”

“Yes.” The word was harsh, absolute.

My wolf whimpered, and I felt something inside me break. I had expected it, but experiencing it still hurt.

“Then go,” I said quietly. “Go back to your cold Luna and your political marriage and your duty. Forget you ever felt this bond. I’ll do the same.”

But we both knew that was a lie. You couldn’t forget your mate. Couldn’t ignore the bond once it had snapped into place. It would be there. Torturing us.

He stared at me for a long moment. Then he turned and walked toward the door.

He paused at the threshold, his back to me.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely audible. “I’m sorry the Goddess chose you to bear this burden. I’m sorry I can’t be what you deserve.”

And then he was gone.

I sat there in the darkness, my whole body trembling. The bond was still there, still pulling at me, but now it felt like a wound.

My wolf was howling inside me, begging me to go after him. To fight for our mate. But I was too weak, too broken. Too accustomed to accepting that I deserved nothing.

I lay back down on my mattress and stared at the ceiling. Tomorrow, I would have to face him again. Tomorrow, I would have to pretend that my entire world hadn’t just shattered.

But tonight, I let myself cry. For the mate I couldn’t have. For the bond that should have been a blessing but ended up being a curse.

I cried until I had no tears left.

Two weeks passed slowly, each day more torturous than the previous.

I saw him every day. Caught glimpses of him in the corridors, heard his voice during pack meetings, felt the bond pull at me whenever he was near.

He’d been avoiding me, I knew. Taking different routes through the pack house, eating at different times, conducting his business elsewhere. But in a pack house, there was only so much distance you could maintain.

Clarissa had noticed something was wrong. She’d become more vicious, more demanding. She’d started watching me with suspicious eyes, as if she could sense that something had shifted. As if she knew her position was threatened.