Blood bound

Blood bound
Henry’s body trembled, battered and broken on the stone floor. Every breath was agony. His wolf form had receded under the weight of pain, leaving him sprawled half-shifted, claws dragging weakly across the ground.

Alfonso loomed above him, dark and flawless, his crimson eyes glowing like coals in the shadows. “You fought bravely,” he said mockingly, crouching so his face was inches from Henry’s. “But bravery without power is nothing.”

Henry coughed, blood spilling from his lips. His chest heaved. “I…won’t let you…take her…”

Alfonso chuckled, low and cold. “You’ve already lost, boy. But you’re still useful to me.”

Before Henry could react, Alfonso slit his own wrist with a fang, the scent of thick, ancient vampire blood flooding the chamber. The smell was intoxicating—metallic, rich, almost hypnotic. Henry’s wolf instincts screamed to resist, but his broken body betrayed him. Alfonso pressed the wound to Henry’s mouth.

“Drink,” Alfonso commanded. His voice carried an unnatural weight, sinking into Henry’s bones.

Henry fought it, clenching his jaw shut. But then Alfonso’s grip crushed his face, fangs gleaming. “Drink, or I’ll make your end slow and unworthy.”

Desperation for survival won. Henry’s lips parted against his will, and Alfonso’s blood spilled onto his tongue.

It burned like fire. His veins seared as though molten iron coursed through them, forcing his body to writhe and convulse. His heart hammered, then slowed, then hammered again under Alfonso’s control. The vampire king’s smile widened as Henry’s golden wolf eyes flickered, shot through with streaks of crimson.

“Good,” Alfonso whispered, stroking Henry’s hair mockingly as he drank. “That’s it. Accept my gift. My blood will heal your wounds, strengthen you beyond any wolf in your pitiful pack. And in return…” His voice dropped to a dangerous purr. “Your loyalty will be mine—eternal, unbreakable.”

Henry tore away with a gasp, his chest heaving, the last drops of Alfonso’s blood staining his lips. Already his cuts were closing, his bones knitting with unnatural speed. But the healing came with chains—he felt them sinking into his mind, invisible, binding him to Alfonso’s will.

“No…” Henry rasped, his voice broken. But deep down, he knew. It was done.

Alfonso leaned closer, his smile triumphant. “Yes. From this night forward, you are bound by blood. You will serve me, spy for me, kill for me—until I decide otherwise. And Erin?” His grin sharpened. “You will deliver her to me when the time comes.”

Henry’s hands shook. His heart screamed against it, but his body bowed, compelled.

“Yes…my king.”

The pack house was alive with murmurs when Henry staggered back through its gates. His clothes were torn, his skin pale, but his wounds already knitting in ways that didn’t feel…natural. Wolves rushed to him, voices colliding in concern:

“Where were you?”
“Did you find Jara?”
“Are you hurt—what happened?”

Henry forced a weak smile, clutching his side as though still wounded. “Ambushed,” he lied, his voice hoarse. “Alfonso’s scouts caught me on the borders. Barely got out alive.”

Nick pushed through the crowd, his presence commanding silence. His eyes narrowed as they locked onto Henry. “You’re back late,” he said gruffly. “Too late. Where’s Jara?”

The name sliced into Henry like a blade. For the briefest flicker, guilt twisted in his gut—but Alfonso’s blood burned stronger. His master’s voice lingered in his skull like a shadow: Lie well, pup. Protect the secret.

Henry lowered his gaze. “She split off from me. I… I couldn’t keep up after the ambush. I lost her trail.”

Nick’s eyes darkened, suspicion heavy in the air, but Henry held his ground, forcing exhaustion and sorrow into his features. “I tried, Alpha. I swear.”

The pack murmured anxiously behind them. Jara’s absence already weighed on everyone, and Henry’s return without her stirred the unease further. Nick finally nodded curtly, though his expression didn’t soften. “Rest, then. We’ll send trackers. If she’s alive, we’ll find her.”

Henry bowed his head, masking the storm inside him.

He returned to his quarters, closing the door softly behind him. His reflection in the mirror made him flinch—his eyes glimmered faintly red before the wolf gold reasserted itself. His lips still bore the faintest stain of Alfonso’s blood.

He sank to his knees, trembling.

“I’m still one of them,” he whispered to himself, clutching his chest. “I can protect Erin. I can—”

But deep inside, he felt the leash tightening. Alfonso’s voice coiled through his mind like smoke:

You are mine. Do not forget it. When the time comes, you will betray them all.

Henry’s fists clenched, his face twisting in anguish. The pack thought he was loyal. Nick already suspected something. And Erin… Erin still looked at him with trust in her eyes.

It was a trust he no longer deserved.

The night was heavy with storm clouds when Marcia summoned Nick to her study. Candles burned low, their wax dripping like the minutes sliding away. The air smelled faintly of herbs and smoke, her wards pulsing faintly in the walls.

Nick entered quietly, his expression hard. “You said it was urgent.”

Marcia’s fire-bright eyes lifted to him, grief etched into every line of her face. She didn’t answer at once. Instead, she placed something on the desk between them—Jara’s pendant, bent and smeared with blood.

Nick froze, his chest tightening. “Where did you get that?”

Marcia’s voice was soft, but unyielding. “I found it. Hidden deep near the old river bend, under layers of disturbed earth. Jara didn’t leave, Nick. She’s gone. Killed.”

The words struck him like claws to the gut. Jara—loyal Gamma, fierce, untiring, the backbone of his command. He clenched his fists, swallowing the growl rising in his throat. “Killed by who?”

Marcia’s gaze darkened. “I cannot say for certain. But the signs… the wounds…” She hesitated, then fixed her eyes on him. “It wasn’t Alfonso’s men. It was one of us.”

Nick’s heart lurched. He thought instantly of Henry. Henry, who had returned from the shadows too conveniently. Henry, who had no real proof of his story. Henry, who looked more worn down than hunted.

Marcia’s silence confirmed the thought forming in his mind.

Nick’s jaw tightened, his voice low and dangerous. “Henry.”

Marcia didn’t nod, but neither did she deny it. “I have felt something… off about him since his return. His eyes, his scent—they carry traces not his own. Darker things cling to him.”

Nick began pacing, muscles taut, the wolf inside him restless. “I wanted to believe he was just struggling. He’s always been reckless, but loyal… or so I thought. But Jara—” His voice cracked before he forced it steady again. “If he betrayed us…”

Marcia stepped closer, placing a steadying hand on his arm. “Do not act rashly, Alpha. We need proof before we strike. If Henry serves Alfonso, he’s dangerous. If we confront him without care, he may strike Erin.”

At the mention of Erin, Nick’s chest burned. The thought of Henry—always hovering near her, always too eager to “protect” her—twisted his insides.

Nick’s eyes flashed gold. “He won’t touch her. If he’s the traitor, I’ll rip the truth from his throat.”

Marcia’s tone sharpened. “Then do it wisely. Remember, Erin still trusts him. If you break that bond too suddenly, she may turn against you.”

Nick exhaled harshly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Then I’ll watch. I’ll wait. And when Henry slips—I’ll be there.”

From the shadows outside the study, unseen by either of them, Henry stood frozen. He had followed, curious, suspicious. Now every word sank into him like a blade.

They were on to him.

And Erin… Erin could never know.