Elara knew the moment they crossed the ward.
The air shifted—heavy, suffocating, charged with dominance so thick it made her skin prickle. Wolves in the courtyard stiffened mid-step. Conversations died. Even the birds went silent.
Alpha presence.
Her fingers curled instinctively at her sides.
He's here.
She didn't need to look to know who it was. There was only one wolf in the Northern Realm whose aura could bend the air like that.
Kael Blackthorn.
Elara forced herself to keep walking, heart pounding violently as she carried the basket of herbs toward the apothecary. She refused to run. Running would confirm his suspicions.
You are not his yet, she reminded herself.
You don't belong to him.
Boots crunched against gravel behind her.
"Elara Nightwind."
Her spine went rigid.
The sound of his voice—deep, controlled, unmistakably familiar—sent a shock through her chest. The mate bond stirred violently, aching in a way that made her breath hitch.
She turned slowly.
Kael stood several paces away, clad not in ceremonial armor, but in dark travel leathers. He looked younger than the man who had executed her—yet just as dangerous. Power coiled around him like a living thing, silver eyes sharp and searching.
For a heartbeat, they simply stared at each other.
His gaze dropped—to her wrist.
She reacted instantly, pulling her sleeve down.
Too late.
His pupils dilated.
There.
Recognition flared in his eyes—followed by something far more unsettling.
Fear.
"You felt it too," he said quietly.
Elara lifted her chin. "You're trespassing."
A flicker of surprise crossed his face.
Then amusement.
"This land belongs to the crown," Kael replied. "Which means it belongs to me."
The words cut deeper than they should have.
"You didn't come here for politics," Elara said coolly. "Say what you want and leave."
Kael took a step closer.
Her wolf shrank back instinctively, screaming at her to submit, to bow, to acknowledge him as Alpha.
She refused.
"Why are you avoiding the Mate Ceremony?" he asked.
The question struck like a blade.
"I wasn't aware my choices required your approval," Elara said evenly.
They were close now. Too close.
She could smell him—pine, smoke, and moonfire. The scent triggered memories she didn't want. Nights tangled in silk sheets. Promises whispered against her skin.
Lies.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"You're shaking," he murmured. "And yet you stand there pretending you're not affected."
Elara met his gaze without flinching. "You should be more concerned about yourself, Your Majesty. Showing up uninvited because you felt a pull you can't explain."
A sharp spark flared between them.
Kael's eyes darkened.
"You know what this is," he said.
"I know what it becomes," Elara replied softly.
That gave him pause.
The silence stretched—thick, heavy, dangerous.
Then—
Kael reached for her wrist.
She slapped his hand away.
The crack echoed through the courtyard.
Gasps rippled through the onlookers.
No one had ever struck the Alpha King.
Kael stared at his hand as if shocked. Slowly, he lifted his gaze back to her.
Something in him snapped.
"Careful," he growled. "You forget who you're speaking to."
Elara's heart hammered, but she didn't back down.
"And you forget," she said, voice trembling only slightly, "that I am not yours."
The bond flared violently.
Pain shot through her chest, stealing her breath as a silver mark burned briefly on her wrist before fading.
Kael sucked in a sharp breath, clutching his own wrist.
The connection snapped taut between them.
His expression changed.
Gone was the controlled king.
In his place stood a man barely restraining something feral.
"Say that again," he demanded.
Elara forced herself to breathe.
"I am not your mate," she said clearly.
The lie tasted like ash.
Kael's lips curled—not in anger, but something far more dangerous.
Possession.
"You can deny it all you want," he said lowly. "But your body already knows the truth."
She turned away sharply.
"You executed me once," she thought bitterly. "You won't get the chance again."
Out loud, she said, "I want nothing to do with you."
A lie.
Another lie.
And they both knew it.
Kael stepped back at last, jaw clenched so tightly she thought his teeth might shatter.
"Three days," he said. "If you refuse the ceremony, the council will brand you a heretic."
"Let them," Elara replied.
Kael's eyes bored into her.
"If you walk away," he said quietly, "I won't protect you."
She laughed softly.
"You never did."
The words struck harder than any blow.
For the first time, uncertainty flickered across Kael Blackthorn's face.
Elara didn't wait for him to recover.
She walked past him, legs shaking, heart screaming as she forced herself not to run.
Behind her, Kael stood frozen, staring after her like a man who had just lost something he didn't understand yet.
Something essential.
As she disappeared into the apothecary, Kael slowly closed his fist over his burning wrist.
"Find out everything about Elara Nightwind," he ordered his guards coldly.
And somewhere deep inside him, a terrifying realization began to form.
This wasn't a bond awakening.
It was a bond already broken once.