Chapter 1
Aurora POV
They used to write songs about fated mates. Wolves spoke of them with reverence, as if the gods themselves had reached down and tied two souls together with invisible threads of destiny. Those stories are gone now, buried beneath ash and blood and centuries of war. What was once seen as sacred is now considered dangerous. Bonds born of instinct are no longer praised. They are hidden, condemned, and feared.
A true mate is not a blessing in my world. It’s a threat. An uncontrollable force that tears through arranged alliances and delicate treaties. No pack survives by chasing fate. We survive by choosing control.
In my world, love is not a luxury. It is a liability.
Sitting up straight at the dining table, I’m surrounded by polished silver, which I spent all day cleaning. Soft candlelight and quiet conversation fills the room. My eyes flicker down to the meat on my plate, it’s tender, unfamiliar and almost tasteless in my mouth.
I’m careful with every move I make, my mother demands it. I look across from me to Alpha Caelan Thorne, he looks up and watches me with a calm detachment almost. He’s a man who gets everything that he wants without asking. His jaw, posture, and grip on his goblet is sharp, that’s just the best way to describe him. Sharp.
He’s the sort of person who wears power like it was made for him, and I already know my place in this plan. I’m to stand beside him, smile when needed and bear heirs, all this to hold our packs together.
My hands fall to my lap for a moment, and I lower my eyes again. I need to be respectful but not appear weak. My hair is braided, and my dress is modest; my mother made sure I looked the part.
I’ve been trained for this since childhood.
This dinner isn’t a meeting, it’s a formality before the bond is sealed.
“You look well,” Caelan says. “Ironhowl colors suit you.”
He means my dress, my mother made me wear it, I don’t like the green, it’s too dark, I can’t say that though. Instead, I nod. “Thank you,” I reply, my smile empty.
He gestures to the food. “I asked for milder spices. Thought it might suit you better.”
I nod. “It’s well prepared.” Does he really think that I can’t handle spice? It’s tradition to bring their pack cook here to make the dinner the day before the bond is created.
He says nothing else, and I see my mother talking to one of Caelan’s advisors. Her tone is pleasant, and she keeps glancing at me, waiting for a crack. I don’t give her one.
Dragging my gaze down the table, I spot Killian, my stepfather, as he speaks to a Beta from Ironhowl. He doesn’t look or acknowledge me, why should he?
I know what I am, I’m not a daughter or a leader. I’m just a piece that is to be traded. I was raised to clean, to serve him and my mother, and now to serve Caelan’s pack as their Luna.
Tomorrow it all changes, I turn eighteen, and our blood will bind not only us, but our packs as well. My mother will finally get what she wanted, and I’ll do what’s expected.
I don’t believe in fate, no one does anymore.
I don’t like the seat I’m in, my mother placed me directly across from Caelan, close enough for him to see my body, but far enough to remind him I’m not his yet. Not until the full moon tomorrow night, not until the ritual is done.
I nod when Caelan comments on the wine. I pretend to listen, but really I’m just trying to measure each breath to keep calm.
This is my life now. I’ve served this house for years. I didn’t have a title, barely a name, when it didn’t matter, I lived here like it was work, no one saw me as important. Yet here I am, the one they’ll give away to keep peace.
I don’t feel honored. Caelan says something else and I miss it, but I nod quickly. He either doesn’t notice I didn’t hear or doesn’t care to point it out. He probably doesn’t care if I don’t listen
Killian laughs at something and my mother’s hand rests on his. She’s pleased. Her daughter will bond with Ironhowl, which in return makes my mothers place rise.
I need to accept that I’m going to be sent to a new territory, to lie beside a man I don’t know. I’ll bear his mark, stay silent, and never speak of what I wanted.
A servant comes, but Caelan waves him off almost instantly, and I force myself to eat another bite, even as my stomach turns.
Caelan leans back and studies me.
“Tomorrow will be a good day,” he says. “We’ll make history, Aurora.”
I nod at him. Make history. We’re not making history. Every pack now mates and creates bonds to strengthen alliances.
My mother lifts her glass and makes a toast, and I follow. Her eyes shine with pride.
Fate isn’t a part of our life, sacrifice is, and it’s proven tomorrow, when I become the price of peace.
The dinner continues to drag on, and I smile when I must. I nod when spoken to. My throat is dry, but I don’t ask for water. I don’t want attention, and I can’t afford it.
They speak now of borders and land rights. I stare at the centerpiece, some twisted branches with red flowers. It’s beautiful, but cruel. Everything beautiful in my life has come at a cost.
Tomorrow, if anything stirs… if a bond shows… then everything changes.
I shouldn’t think like that. Bonds are myths, they say. Lies spun by the Veilmother’s flawed Loom, and even if they were real, they wouldn’t choose me. I’m no warrior, or heir. Just a girl who learned to keep quiet, plus, fated bonds aren’t going to help me, only make things worse.
As the meal ends, plates vanish and voices soften. My mother stands.
“To peace,” she says. “To unity and to the future.”
They echo her. Caelan lifts his glass. Killian does too and I follow.
“To the future,” I whisper.
The wine burns.
Hours later, I walk the halls alone. The portraits of Killian’s family hang on the walls, and I walk past the study, hearing voices behind the door. I don’t pause, it’s not my place to.
I’m following their rules, still, something inside me aches with a question I won’t ask.
What would it feel like to be chosen?
It’s an answer I know that I’ll never get.
When I wake, the light spills through the room, the moon still hangs above the trees. The house is already moving, and I can hear people.
I’m officially eighteen. Sitting up, I breathe in the quiet, there’s going to be no celebration, no kind words, or presents. There won’t even be any signs that today is about me, it will all be focused on tonight, on the bond and the mating.
I leave the bed, cross the room, and step into an empty hall. I’m not needed until the ceremony, and until then, I’m forgotten, unless I’m asked to clean something.
Downstairs, the air smells of ash and herbs, I pass the old portraits of Killian’s family, all stiff shoulders and cold eyes. As I step into the kitchen, it’s quiet. The candles are burning low.
Getting a glass, I fill it with water and carry it outside. The garden is silver under the moonlight. Sitting on the steps, I hold the glass between my hands.
The moon watches me, and I look back.
“Why did you give us bonds if we’re not allowed to follow them?” I whisper.
No answer. I don’t know why I asked, there is never an answer given. The priestesses say the Veilmother only weaves, and we’re not meant to understand.
But I still wonder. Why are bonds called curses? Why is instinct punished? Why are we forced to trade ourselves for peace? Why did fated bonds become so rare when they were about love and happiness?
I drink again, just to keep my hands busy. It doesn’t help.
“They say sacrifice brings peace,” I murmur. “But what kind of peace needs this much pain?”
The sky stays silent, of course it does.
I finish the water and stare at the moon a little longer. I want to ask why this is my fate. Why does it have to be me?
I already know what they’d say.
I’m not meant to ask. It’s the way things are now, fate isn’t real, not really.
Standing I walk back into the kitchen shutting the door behind me.
Placing down the glass on the counter, I move toward the hall and brush my fingertips down the front of my nightdress to smooth it out.
I walk toward the hall to go back up to my room, as I step around the corner, I bump into someone, and I don’t have time to stop myself.
Staggering back, my mouth opens to apologise, and I pause when I see Killian.
His eyes meet mine for the briefest moment, and something changes. I can’t talk, his entire body stills like a predator catching sight of it’s prey. Only, fear doesn’t silence me, it’s heat.
It hits me like a wave, full-bodied and dizzying. My breath catches before I can make a sound. The air is thick with his scent, sharp and warm, it threads through my chest and curls low in my belly. My skin prickles at the sensation, and my wolf surges forward so violently that I stagger back a step.
He moves faster and grabs my arm, not roughly but full of purpose. His hand slides down, fingers wrapping around my wrist as his other hand curls around my waist.
I don’t move, I can’t.
His head drops, and I feel the heat of his breath against my neck.
“Veil,” he whispers, his voice hoarse. “What is this?”
He inhales again, deeper this time, dragging my scent into his lungs like he’s starving for it. He moves, his nose brushing along the curve of my throat, and a shiver ripples through my entire body. My knees go weak instantly, and the pressure of his hand on my waist tightens, holding me upright.
“Killian,” I manage to say, but it barely comes out. My voice is far too thin and soft right now. His name tastes wrong on my tongue now, like something I shouldn’t be allowed to speak, especially while he’s touching me like this. My voice is too thin, too soft. His name tastes wrong on my tongue, like something I shouldn’t be allowed to speak while he’s touching me like this.
I try to move back, to pull away, but he growls, low and guttural. It doesn’t even sound human. It vibrates through his chest into mine, and I flinch. He finally lifts his head, his eyes are dark, and there’s something wild behind them, something deeper.
His wolf.
“No,” he says, almost to himself. “No. This can’t be.”
My pulse races, and I open my mouth, even though I have no idea what I’m supposed to say. I don’t know what’s happening, all I know is I’m burning from the inside out, and I can’t breathe around the scent.
He stares at me like he’s seeing me for the first time, and maybe he is considering that he never paid attention to me before. His eyes lower to my lips, then lower to the column of my neck, where I know he will hear my heart pounding. I know he can feel how close my wolf is to the surface.
“I smelled it the second I touched you,” he says, his voice dark and rough. “This scent… I know it.”
He moves closer, and I back up until my back hits the wall. My breath comes fast and shallow as he leans in, he breathes in, like he’s desperate for more.
“Killian, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice barely above a whisper.
He doesn’t answer. His hand moves, palm pressing flat against the wall beside my head and trapping me. He’s looking at me differently, making sure I’m caged in.
My body shakes, and he moves closer, and I hear his wolf.
Mate.
He jerks back from me like he’s been struck. His hand releases me instantly, staggering back. I watch his face shift in real time, shock, disbelief, then something like fear. He turns away and rakes a hand through his hair.
“No,” he snaps. “No. This isn’t real.”
It is real, I can feel it. Even now, with the distance between us, the bond hums beneath my skin. My wolf is awake in a way she never has been before, she’s pacing behind my ribs and stretching toward him.
My back is still pressed against the wall, and I try to ground myself. My hands won’t stay still, and my thoughts won’t sort themselves out to make sense.
He’s my mother’s husband; this is wrong in so many ways.
Turning back toward me slowly, he’s still breathing hard. His jaw is clenched, and his eyes are still wild. He looks like he’s barely holding himself together.
“We don’t speak of this,” he says at last. “Not to anyone. Ever.”
Staring at him, I don’t answer, my heart won’t slow down. He takes another step back, putting more distance between us.
“It’s the bond,” I whisper. “Isn’t it?”
His silence is answer enough. Fated bonds are wrong, forbidden, now I have one, and to my mother’s husband!
We stand facing each other, caught in this trap. The air still holds the heat and scent from the bond.
Nothing will ever be the same, and we both know it.
