The fire in the fireplace spat sparks but offered no warmth. The bond inside me pulsed like an open wound that had been generously salted. Every breath echoed in my spine with a stinging cold. The Moon was mocking me, chaining me to this girl with invisible links that I could neither break nor acknowledge.
The heavy oak door creaked. I didn't turn around. The scent of expensive tobacco and old leather gave the intruder away before he could make a sound.
"You're ruining the furniture, Cale."
Damian nodded toward the edge of the massive table where my claws had left deep furrows. He walked to the center of the room, maintaining that impeccable posture that had always seemed fake to me.
"Get out."
I clenched my fists. The skin on my knuckles, smashed against the wall an hour earlier, split open, and a drop of blood fell onto the carpet.
"You look like a beast caught in a trap. It frightens the pack. An Alpha should not demonstrate such... instability."
Damian stopped by the window, staring out at the nocturnal courtyard.
"The pack will get what it needs. My condition is none of their concern."
"You're wrong. Your connection with this servant girl isn't just a personal problem. It's a crack in the foundation. You publicly renounced her, but the bond didn't go anywhere, did it? It burns you. It robs you of sleep."
He turned, and in the dim torchlight, his eyes glinted with cold calculation.
"What do you want, Damian?"
"To offer a way out. The only logical way out that will rid you of this agony."
I felt the wolf growl inside me. The burning in my chest intensified, demanding proximity to the one I had just trampled into the dirt.
"I'm listening."
"Kill her."
The word hung in the heavy air like an executioner's axe.
"Will that break the ties?"
Damian took a step toward me, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper.
"The Moon gives the bond to the living. The dead feel no pull. One precise strike, and you will be yourself again. Free from this... mistake. I can arrange it all myself if your hand falters."
I closed the distance instantly, grabbing him by the collar of his doublet. The fabric groaned piteously.
"You're suggesting I kill what belongs to me by blood right?"
"I'm suggesting you save your power! You are weakening before our eyes. Look at your hands—they're shaking. The pack will catch the scent of blood and weakness. They will tear you apart, Cale."
I shoved him away. Damian stumbled but quickly regained his balance, straightening his collar.
"I will not kill her."
"Because of what? A drop of pity? She is a nobody. Dust beneath your boots."
"She is mine."
I spat the word out, feeling its taste on my tongue. Bitter, metallic, undeniable.
"Your property that is destroying you? An original way to commit suicide."
Damian smirked, but a shadow of apprehension flickered in his eyes.
"Are you finished?"
"Cale, think. As long as she breathes, you will be a slave to this bond. You will seek her scent; you will rave about her in the dark. That isn't strength. It's a collar."
"Dismissed."
I pointed toward the door. Damian froze for a moment, weighing whether to continue, then gave a short bow.
"As you wish. But remember: poison acts quickly. When you begin to howl in pain, it will be too late to call a healer."
The door closed behind him with a dry thud. The silence in the chambers became unbearable. The bond jerked me forward, toward the exit. The wolf inside demanded his due. He didn't want death. He wanted possession. Total, raw, final.
I ripped a torch from the wall and stepped into the corridor. Мои шаги гулко отдавались от каменных сводов. The guards at the dungeon entrance snapped to attention, not daring to raise their eyes.
"The keys."
One of the warriors held out the ring, nearly dropping it in fear. I felt their terror. It mingled with my own rage, creating a volatile mixture.
The stairs leading down were damp and slippery. The smell of mold and stagnant water hit my nose, but behind it, I smelled something else. A thin, barely perceptible scent of wildflowers and fear. Alina.
I stopped before the iron bars. She was sitting in the corner on a pile of rotten straw, hugging her knees. Her clothes had turned to rags, her hair was tangled. At my appearance, she flinched, pressing herself into the wall.
"Cale?"
Her voice broke into a rasp. I unlocked the cell. The screech of metal on metal made her cry out.
"Did you... did you come to kill me? Damian said..."
I thrust the torch into a wall bracket and stepped inside. The cell was cramped. The cold of the stone permeated everything.
"Damian talks too much."
I walked right up to her. She tried to crawl away but hit her back against the cold masonry. I grabbed her chin, forcing her to look into my eyes. In her pupils, I saw my reflection—a monster with burning eyes.
"Please... I didn't do anything..."
"You exist. That is enough."
My fingers tightened on her jaw. She let out a soft moan of pain.
"But you rejected me. In front of everyone. You said I was a mistake."
"I told the truth. You are a mistake that I intend to correct in my own way."
I jerked her to her feet. Alina was light, almost weightless. She was trembling so violently that her teeth chattered.
"What are you going to do?"
I didn't answer. Instead, I pinned her to the wall. My body felt her heat through the thin fabric of her dress. The bond wailed, demanding I secure my rights.
"Cale, I'm scared..."
"You should be scared."
I ran my hand through her hair, baring her neck. Her pale skin seemed almost luminous in the gloom. Her pulse throbbed under my palm like a trapped bird.
"No! Please, don't!"
She began to struggle, thumping her fists against my shoulders. To me, they were merely weak nudges, unable to move a mountain.
"Quiet."
I pressed her shoulder down with my weight, stripping her of the ability to move. My breath scorched her skin. The scent of her fear was more intoxicating than any wine.
"You belong to me, Alina. Not to the Moon. Not to fate. To me."
"You... you sent me away yourself..."
"And now I've changed my mind."
I leaned into her neck. My fangs lengthened, my gums aching with anticipation. I felt her heart racing in a frantic rhythm.
"Cale, I beg you..."
I sank my teeth into the soft flesh. Alina screamed—a sharp, piercing sound that cut off into a sob. The taste of her blood filled my mouth. Warm, thick, with an aftertaste of copper.
The bond that had tormented me for hours suddenly flared and then settled, turning into a taut thread pulled between us. Now I felt her every contraction, every surge of terror and pain.
She went limp in my arms. I didn't let go until I was certain the mark had taken deep, searing my right of ownership onto her body. When I pulled away, her blood remained on my lips.
Alina slid down the wall, clutching her neck. Crimson liquid seeped between her fingers.
"What did you... what did you do?"
Her voice was barely audible. Tears were frozen in her eyes.
"What I should have done a long time ago. Now every person in this pack, every wolf you encounter, will know: you are mine. My thing. My slave."
I wiped my lips with the back of my hand, smearing blood across my cheek.
"You're a monster."
She said it with such hatred that the wolf inside growled contentedly.
"I am your Alpha. Get used to it."
I turned and walked toward the exit. The cold of the dungeon no longer felt hostile. On the contrary, I felt a strange satisfaction.
"You can't just leave me here!"
I stopped at the door without turning around.
"I can. You will sit here until I decide otherwise. And be glad, Alina. Damian wanted you dead. I, however, have gifted you life. In exchange for your freedom."
"I would rather you had killed me!"
I smirked.
"Too easy. Death is release. And you will still be of use to me."
I stepped out of the cell and locked the door. The hollow click of the lock put a period on the conversation.
"Cale! Come back! Cale!"
Her cries echoed through the corridor, but I didn't slow my pace. As I climbed the stairs, I felt the mark on her neck pulsing—I felt it as if it were my own heartbeat.
The guards at the entrance drew their heads into their shoulders upon seeing the blood on my face. I walked past them without deigning them a glance.
Returning to my chambers, I walked to the mirror. From the depths of the glass, a man with a bloodied mouth and a cold gaze looked back at me. The internal fire had died down, replaced by an icy certainty.
The bond was no longer a weakness. I had forged it into a weapon.
Outside the window, the distant howl of a wolf was heard. I walked to the fireplace and threw a splinter from the broken table into the dying embers.
Somewhere out there, deep beneath the stones of the castle, Alina was choking on tears. I felt her grief, her helplessness, her crushing loneliness. And it brought me peace.
Now she wasn't going anywhere. A mark isn't just a wound. It's a brand that cannot be washed away. She can hate me, she can curse the day she was born, but now she is a part of me.
I lay down on the furs, closed my eyes, and for the first time in a long while, I slept. I dreamed of the forest, the hunt, and the scent of blood that now belonged forever only to me.
In her cell, Alina continued to cry. Her sobs were quiet, agonizing. She pressed her palm to the wound on her neck, feeling another's will pulsing beneath her skin. She was trapped. In the stone, in this pack, in his power. And there was no longer a way back.
The night continued, cold and indifferent to the pain of those who found themselves at the Alpha's mercy. Но теперь в этой темноте был порядок. My order.
I woke just before dawn. The room was gray and silent. The first thing I sensed was her. She had fallen asleep. Her breathing was ragged, full of sorrow, but she was alive.
Damian was wrong. Death is a loss of resource. A mark is an investment.
I stood up, walked to the window, and looked at the pale sliver of dawn. The pack would wake soon. They would see their Alpha calm and strong. And they would catch the scent of his mark on the one they had considered a nobody.
This was only the beginning.
I touched my lips, where the taste of her fear could still be felt.
"Mine," I whispered into the emptiness of the room.
The echo caught the word, carrying it into the dark corners of the castle. In the dungeon, Alina flinched in her sleep as if hearing my voice. She wasn't free even in her dreams. And I would see to it that it remained so until her very last breath.
Power is not just about subjugation. It is responsibility for what you have tamed. Even if you tamed it with fangs and pain.
I dressed, tightened my belt, and left the chambers. A long day lay ahead. I needed to explain the new rules of the game to the pack. And to Damian—his place in this hierarchy.
But the main thing was done. The bond was no longer my cage. It had become hers. And I was the only one who held the keys.