Bound To Him: Book 1 of The Blood Bond Duology

The first thing Arisa heard was screaming. Not inside the house. Not close enough to touch.

It came from outside, from somewhere beyond her bedroom walls, tangled with howls sharp enough to make her heart seize in her chest. For a moment, she lay frozen beneath her sheets, caught between sleep and waking, certain the sound belonged to a nightmare.

Then another scream tore through the night. Arisa sat up.

The house was silent. That was what scared her most. Her parents' room was down the hall. Luca's was across from hers. On any normal night, she could hear something—her father's low voice through the walls, her mother moving around downstairs, Luca pacing like he always did when something kept him awake. Tonight, there was nothing. Only the distant sound of chaos.

Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, restless and frightened, pressing against her ribs as if it could claw its way out and run before she did. Arisa threw the covers off and stumbled out of bed, her bare feet hitting the cold floor.

Another howl split the air. This one was closer. Her breath caught.

No. No, no, no.

She grabbed the first clothes she could find, pulling on leggings and an oversized sweatshirt with shaking hands. Her fingers fumbled over the sleeves. Her hair stuck to her face. Every movement felt too slow, too clumsy, like the room itself had thickened around her.

Then something tugged at the back of her mind. A familiar presence. Sharp. Urgent. Terrified. Arisa opened the mind-link before she could think better of it.

Luca's voice slammed into her head. Arisa. Listen to me carefully. Go to the north border. To the shelters. The pack is under attack. Go. Hide.

Her blood turned cold. For one second, she forgot how to breathe.

Luca? Her thought came out fractured, thin with panic. Where are you? What about Mom and Dad? What about Alpha Rhys? Keion? Are they—

They're with me at the pack house. They're alive. I'm fine. Everyone is fine.

He was lying.

Arisa knew her brother's voice better than anyone. She knew the difference between calm and controlled, between honesty and something forced through gritted teeth.

Please, sister.

That almost broke her. Luca never begged.

Go to the shelters. Now. Do not come to the pack house. Do you hear me?

But Luca—

The link snapped shut.

Arisa stood in the middle of her bedroom, breathing hard, staring at nothing.

Go to the shelters. Hide. The words echoed inside her skull. Then another scream rose from the direction of the pack house, and every fragile piece of obedience in her shattered.

Her family was there. Her Alpha was there. Keion and Luca were there.

Arisa shoved her feet into boots, grabbed her jacket, and ran.

The night air hit her like a slap the moment she opened the back door. Cold wind tore through the trees surrounding their home, carrying the scent of smoke, wet earth, and blood. Too much blood. Her stomach twisted. She forced herself forward anyway.

The pack grounds were usually peaceful at night. Quiet houses tucked beneath dark pines, porch lights glowing softly, the distant sound of the river cutting through the woods. Crescent River had always felt safe to her. Protected. Untouchable. Now, the whole world sounded like it was dying.

Wolves raced between trees. Some in human form. Some shifted. Shadows moved too quickly for her eyes to follow. Somewhere to her left, something crashed hard enough to shake the ground beneath her feet.

Arisa kept running. By the time the pack house came into view, her lungs burned.

The large backyard had become a battlefield. Blood stained the grass in dark, shining pools. Bodies moved through the chaos—fighting, falling, rising again. Warriors she had known her entire life clashed with wolves she did not recognize, their snarls ripping through the night. For one awful second, Arisa could only stare.

This was not a fight. This was slaughter.

"Arisa!" She turned so quickly she nearly slipped. Luca stood at the entrance of the pack house, blood on his shirt and fury on his face.

Relief hit her first. Then fear.

"Luca." She rushed towards him. "What happened? What's going on? Are Mom and Dad inside? Is everyone safe?"

His expression darkened. "I told you to go to the north border."

"I couldn't just leave you!"

"You should have listened." His voice was low, but the anger in it cut deeper than shouting. Arisa flinched.

Luca saw it. For half a second, his face cracked. He reached for her shoulders, gripping her hard, as if he needed to make sure she was real. Then another howl tore through the yard behind them. His grip tightened.

"They're inside," he said quickly. "Mom, Dad, Alpha Rhys. They're alive. But you need to go. Now."

"Who is attacking us?"

Luca looked away. That was answer enough. A cold feeling slipped down her spine.

"Luca."

His jaw clenched. "Night Shadow."

The words didn't make sense at first. Arisa stared at him, waiting for him to correct himself. Waiting for him to say he had made a mistake, that she had misheard, that there was no possible way one of their oldest allies had brought blood and fire to Crescent River's land.

Night Shadow had shared borders with them for generations. Their Alphas had sat at the same tables. Their children had trained together. They were not enemies. They were not supposed to be enemies.

"But..." Her voice broke. "They're our allies."

Luca's eyes hardened. "Not tonight."

Another growl ripped through the air, deeper than the others, powerful enough to make Arisa's knees weaken. Luca's head snapped toward the yard.

"Inside," he ordered.

"Luca—"

"Now, Arisa."

The command struck something instinctive in her, not quite Alpha power, but close enough. Her wolf lowered itself beneath her skin, trembling. Luca pushed her through the doorway. The pack house was chaos in a different way.

People moved through the halls with pale faces and bloodied hands. Someone was crying in the kitchen. Someone else was whispering a prayer. The familiar warmth of the place had been stripped out, leaving only fear behind.

In the living room, Alpha Rhys stood with her father, both of them tense and grim. Her mother rushed toward her the moment she saw her, grabbing Arisa's face between both hands.

"Are you hurt?"

"No." Arisa's voice shook. "I'm fine." Her mother pulled her into a brief, crushing hug.

Then Alpha Rhys turned to her. He looked older than he had that morning. Not tired. Older. As if the night had reached inside him and taken something it had no right to touch.

"Arisa," he said gently. Her throat tightened.

"Yes, Alpha?"

"Go to the north shelters. Through the back. Take the lower trail and do not stop until you reach the hidden gate."

"I can help."

His eyes softened, but his voice did not. "No."

"I know basic combat. I can—"

"No, Arisa."

This time, the room seemed to bend around his words. Alpha command. Her spine straightened against her will. Alpha Rhys stepped closer, his expression pained. "You help us by surviving."

Her eyes burned. She looked at her parents. Her mother's face was tight with fear. Her father nodded once, silent but firm. Then Luca appeared at her side again.

"Please," he said, quieter this time. "For once in your life, be difficult somewhere safer." A broken laugh almost escaped her. Almost.

Arisa swallowed against the ache in her throat and nodded. "Fine." Luca exhaled like he had been holding his breath since the moment she arrived.

She turned toward the back doors. Before she stepped out, she looked over her shoulder one last time. Her mother was already moving toward the wounded. Her father was speaking with Alpha Rhys. Luca stood near the door, watching her with blood on his hands and terror hidden behind his eyes.

Arisa forced herself to leave.

The run to the north border was a blur of trees, cold air, and pain. Her body was not built for this kind of sprint. She had trained, like everyone in the pack trained, but she was not a warrior. Not like Luca. Not like Keion. Not like the people spilling blood behind her.

Her lungs burned. Her legs shook. Still, she ran. For Luca. For her parents. For her Alpha. For the home that had never felt breakable until tonight.

The hidden shelter sat beneath the old northern ridge, concealed behind stone, moss, and layered pack scent. Two warriors guarded the entrance. One of them turned at the sound of her footsteps.

"Arisa?"

Walter. Relief nearly knocked her down. She stumbled into him, and he caught her before her knees could hit the ground.

"Ris," he breathed, holding her tight. "Thank the Moon."

She clung to him, shaking too hard to answer. For a second, she let herself be held. Then she pulled back.

"What are you doing here?" she asked, breathless. "Shouldn't you be on the field?"

Walter's face tightened. "Alpha ordered me to guard the shelter."

"Scott?"

"Inside. Trying not to scare the children. Failing, probably." Even through the terror, Arisa almost smiled.

Walter stepped aside and opened the hidden door. Warm air rushed up from below, thick with fear, too many bodies, and the quiet sobs of people trying not to break.

Arisa looked back toward the trees. Toward the screams. Toward home. Walter touched her arm.

"You can't help them by running back."

She hated that he was right. So she went inside.

Hours passed before the fighting stopped. No one in the shelter slept. No one really spoke. Children cried until they exhausted themselves. Mothers whispered comfort they did not believe. Elders sat with blank faces, listening to the silence above them like it might turn back into screams at any moment.

Then the message came. The attack was over. They were to return home. As safe as home could feel after a night like that.

Arisa and Walter walked at the front of the group, with the remaining warriors circling the civilians. Dawn had not yet broken. The forest was too quiet. Even the birds seemed afraid to welcome the morning. No one spoke. Then Walter leaned closer.

"Ris?"

She looked at him. "What?"

His face was pale. "Keion told me to prepare you for the worst."

Her stomach dropped. "What does that mean?"

Walter looked ahead, toward the pack grounds slowly appearing through the trees. "The pack house backyard," he said quietly, "looks like a slaughterhouse."

Arisa stopped breathing.

And somewhere beyond the trees, the first gray light of morning touched the blood-soaked earth.