The Hexa Bond was never meant to be six.
Six souls were never meant to walk alone.
Long before packs carved borders into the earth and Alphas ruled through dominance and blood, the Moon Goddess wove a bond that defied every law of wolfkind. Six lives were bound together—not for love alone, but for duty, sacrifice, and survival. The Hexa Bond was never gentle in its choosing. It appeared once in centuries, awakening only when the world stood on the edge of ruin.
Those chosen were never allowed to mature like ordinary wolves. Their power was sealed, delayed, restrained—because such strength, when awakened too early, could tear the world apart.
And when the time finally came, the bond would not ask permission.
It would only call.
"Hurry up, Tara! We're going to be late!"
Taylor's voice rang through the room, bright and impatient, as she spun in front of the mirror for what felt like the hundredth time. Her blonde curls bounced against her shoulders, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement as she smoothed down the skirt of her dress and checked her reflection yet again.
"A party that's literally downstairs," Tara called back from the bathroom, her voice thick with sarcasm. "I don't think the moon ceremony is going to start without us."
"That doesn't mean we should be late," Taylor shot back, rolling her eyes dramatically.
Steam curled into the bedroom as the bathroom door opened. Tara stepped out slowly, a towel secured around her chest, water glistening against her dark skin and trailing down her shoulders. She paused long enough to glance at her sister, her lips lifting into a soft smile.
"You look nice," she said quietly, nodding toward Taylor's dress.
Taylor's face lit up instantly. Without hesitation, she grabbed the second dress from the bed and tossed it at Tara. "Then get dressed already!"
Their laughter filled the room, easy and familiar, the kind that came from years of shared space and shared heartbeats.
They were twins, but not the identical kind people always expected. Taylor was warmth and noise and reckless joy, always chasing the next moment that made her feel alive. Tara, on the other hand, was thoughtful and observant, content to sit back and watch the world before deciding where she fit within it. One lived loudly, the other quietly—but neither had ever learned how to exist without the other.
Tonight was supposed to change everything.
Tonight was their coming-of-age ceremony.
The night their wolves were meant to awaken.
"Time's up, ladies!"
Vera pushed the door open without knocking, her hands planted firmly on her hips and a knowing grin curving her lips. Alpha Curtis's daughter. Their sister in every way that mattered.
"Father's already getting irritated," she warned, amusement dancing in her eyes.
"I told her," Taylor muttered, pointing accusingly at Tara.
Vera crossed the room and gently helped zip up Tara's deep wine-colored dress. "Relax," she said softly. "Everything's going to be fine."
Taylor scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You already shifted years ago."
Vera smirked. "True."
They made their way downstairs together, laughter echoing through the halls of the pack house.
The entire place glowed with celebration. Golden drapes hung from the beams, enchanted candles floated effortlessly through the air, and the polished floors reflected the warm light like liquid gold. Pack members filled the hall, dressed in ceremonial finery, their voices blending into an excited hum that vibrated through Tara's chest.
At the center of it all stood Alpha Curtis, tall and commanding in his ceremonial robes. A silver sash crossed his chest, marking both his authority and his lineage. Beside him was Stone, his son, relaxed and already wearing a familiar smirk.
"You girls look beautiful," Curtis said warmly as they approached.
"Especially you, Tara," Stone added, giving her a playful wink.
She rolled her eyes, though she couldn't quite stop the smile tugging at her lips.
Soon, the chatter faded as the Pack Elder stepped forward, his presence commanding silence. "It's time," someone announced.
Everyone moved outside.
Behind the pack house, a wide circle had been carved into the earth, glowing stones lining its edge. The moon hung high above them, pale and watchful, as if waiting for something unseen.
The Pack Elder raised his wooden staff, fur robes brushing the ground as he began an ancient chant passed down through generations. His voice carried through the night, steady and powerful.
Taylor's hand tightened around Tara's.
The ground beneath them hummed softly, the stones glowing brighter as the chant continued.
Then… nothing.
The chant ended.
A ripple of whispers spread through the crowd.
The Elder frowned deeply.
"Try again," Curtis said quietly, tension threading his voice.
The ritual was repeated. The moon remained silent. The wind stirred—but still, nothing answered.
Tara felt a strange pressure bloom in her chest. Not emptiness. Not absence. It felt as though something was there—waiting, restrained, pressing against an invisible wall.
Taylor's breathing turned uneven. Her grip tightened painfully.
"I can't…" she whispered, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes.
Suddenly, she turned and ran.
"TAYLOR!" Tara shouted, chasing after her, but her sister disappeared into the house before she could reach her.
The crowd stood frozen, confusion and unease rippling through them.
Curtis's jaw clenched.
The Pack Elder stepped closer, lowering his voice. "This has happened before."
Curtis stiffened. "You mean… the bond?"
"The kind that does not awaken two," the Elder said grimly. "But many."
Curtis said nothing, but the darkness settling over his expression said enough.
That night, the pack house fell into an unnatural silence.
The twins locked themselves in their room, refusing visitors, refusing comfort. There were no tears shed in public. No explanations given.
Only silence.
Later, Curtis stood in his office with the Pack Elder, the door sealed shut, wards shimmering faintly along the walls.
"They didn't fail," Curtis said firmly. "Their wolves are being held back."
"Because of the bond," the Elder replied. "The Hexa Bond does not awaken early. It waits until all six are near."
Curtis exhaled slowly. "Gunther warned me."
The Elder looked up sharply. "He knew?"
"He knew enough," Curtis admitted. "Enough to know his daughters were chosen. Guardians of the seal on Nabis."
"And the others?"
"Scattered," Curtis said grimly. "Every attempt to find them has failed."
"Which is why I'm taking them to the festival," he continued. "If fate intends to reunite them, that's where it will begin."
The Elder's voice dropped. "When the time comes, all six will be drawn together. Only then will the curse break."
Curtis stared toward the staircase leading to the girls' room.
"They won't be ready."
"They don't need to be," the Elder replied. "Fate will ensure it."
That night, the pack remained quiet.
The twins were supposed to shift.
They didn't.
Six months later, nothing had changed.
Still no wolves.
Taylor cried more often than she smiled now. Tara learned how to hide her fear behind calm routines.
They lived as if nothing was wrong—but everything was.
Then one afternoon—
"Tara!"
Vera burst into the room, waving an envelope excitedly.
Taylor shot upright from Tara's lap. "What is that?"
"An invitation to the Crent Festival!"
Taylor gasped. "You're joking."
"I'm not."
"What's Crent again?" Taylor asked.
Tara answered without looking up from her book. "A gathering held every three years. All the packs. Rituals. Mating ceremonies."
"And this year," Vera said with a grin, "we're going."
Taylor squealed. "We are?!"
"Well…" Tara hesitated. "Father might say no. And we don't even have—"
"—wolves," Taylor finished softly.
"They don't need to," Vera said. "Father already agreed."
Taylor froze. "Agreed to what?"
"To taking all four of us."
Tara slowly closed her book, a tight feeling settling in her chest.
"Why now?"
Vera leaned closer. "Because the Frost Pack is coming."
Taylor screamed.
Tara didn't laugh.
She didn't know why—but something about this trip felt dangerously wrong.