Night had fallen over the citadel, a silver wash over the jagged stone walls, and yet the darkness inside Serena's chamber felt heavier than the absence of light. Her son had been tucked into bed hours ago, snuggled under blankets with a book in hand, but she couldn't sleep. The day had left her mind buzzing: the Alpha's relentless presence, the child's blunt observations, the subtle, constant pull of the bond threading between her and Alaric like an invisible leash.
A soft knock at the door made her stiffen. Her wolf immediately bristled beneath her skin. Who dares? it hissed, coiling, ready to defend.
"Serena," came a voice, low, deliberate. Of course it was him.
"I told you I don't like uninvited guests," she replied without turning toward the door.
"I'm not uninvited," he said. His tone was calm, controlled, though the growl in the wolf beneath his skin betrayed the truth: I am yours. Always.
Her lips pressed into a line. She should have been angry. She should have commanded him to leave. Instead, her heart thumped, her wolf twitched, and she realized she had been holding her breath. How is this happening after seven years?
"I can't ignore the bond," Alaric said, stepping into the doorway just enough to let his presence fill the room. "And neither can you."
"I can," she replied sharply, though her voice faltered. "I've done it before. I can do it again."
His eyes darkened, glimmering gold in the torchlight. "Not this time."
Her wolf growled, low and warning. Do not let him in.
But she felt the pull anyway. A tug at her chest, her mind, her very soul. Alaric moved closer, each step deliberate, magnetic, controlled. She noticed the slight arch of his brow, the shadow of a smile playing on his lips, the way his presence seemed to warm the air around him.
"Serena," he said softly. "I don't intend to hurt you. I only want—"
"You want what?" she interrupted, voice sharper than she intended. Her pulse raced, her wolf coiling tightly, warning her, Stay in control.
"I want the truth," he said. "I want you. I want him." His eyes flicked toward the boy's empty chair. "And I won't stop until I know you're safe—and that the bond is honored."
The bond hummed. Serena could feel it pulsing through her veins, alive, insistent. It tugged, whispering, demanding, reminding her that this was no longer a matter of choice—it was a matter of survival and inevitability.
Her son's laughter interrupted the tension. He had crept back into the hall, sitting quietly on the carpet with his hands on his knees. "Mama! Alpha King looks funny when he's trying not to growl!"
Serena blinked, torn between amusement and irritation. "Go back to bed!" she whispered.
The boy grinned. "I'm observing! You need a witness to the fireworks."
Alaric's lips twitched, barely contained. His wolf growled again, frustrated. The child sees everything. Claim now.
Serena rolled her eyes. "Do you always try to make me blush in front of witnesses?"
"I don't try," he said, voice low, magnetic. "It just happens. You're… irresistible."
Her pulse skipped. The wolf beneath her skin snarled. Control. Do not give in.
She drew a slow breath and stepped toward him, standing her ground, though her pulse betrayed her resolve. "You think a few words and a stare will make me forget seven years of betrayal?"
"Not forget," he said. "But it will make you remember what the bond never abandoned."
The air between them thickened, charged. Every glance, every subtle motion, carried weight. Every step closer was a test, every small brush of their auras a spark.
Then the boy, ever fearless, added: "Mama, he's touching you with his eyes again!"
Serena exhaled sharply. The child had a point. Alaric's gaze was everywhere—tracking her movements, reading her stance, assessing her strength, and claiming territory in a way she could feel but not name.
She looked away, letting the tension simmer instead of snapping. "Tomorrow we train," she said, voice clipped. "And you'll behave like a proper Alpha and leave me in peace."
Alaric's eyes softened, though the wolf growled in protest. "Tomorrow," he agreed. "And every day until the bond is resolved."
The tension did not abate. Serena could feel it in her chest, her wolf screaming for restraint, her instincts tangled with desire. And in the quiet moments, the flickering torchlight, the child's occasional chuckle, she realized something terrifyingly simple: the Alpha did not just want her to survive. He wanted to claim her.
And despite every warning, every memory of betrayal, every instinct screaming stay away, part of her wanted him to.
The night stretched long and silent, heavy with unsaid words, mutual restraint, and an unbreakable pull. The child eventually drifted to sleep again, oblivious to the electric tension threading through the chamber. Serena and Alaric remained in the room, two wolves circling, hearts pounding, bound by a force neither could ignore.
Eventually, she leaned back against the wall, exhaling slowly. "I will not be the one to falter first," she whispered.
"Good," he said, voice dark, magnetic. "Because I will not step back."
And as the moon cast silver shadows across the room, both of them understood, with a sharp, thrilling certainty:
The bond had awakened.
And it would not be ignored.