Chapter 26 CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ALEX
The ancient text is so old the pages crumble at the edges when I turn them. I've been in the pack library for three hours, Marcus long since gone to bed, but sleep eludes me tonight.
It's been a week since Alora moved into the quarters beside mine. A week of watching her carefully constructed control, of hearing her struggle through the full moon, of catching those brief flashes of crimson in her eyes when she thinks I'm not looking.
A week of knowing she's hiding something that terrifies her.
The book before me is written in Old Tongue, a language most modern wolves have forgotten. But my father insisted I learn it, said an Alpha should know his history. At the time, I thought it pointless.
Now I'm grateful.
I flip another page, and a single phrase catches my eye:
Sanguis Lupus—The Blood Wolf.
My heart rate picks up. I lean closer, squinting at the faded text.
In the time before the Great Packs, when wolves ran wild and free, there existed a bloodline blessed by the Moon Goddess herself. These wolves bore fur the color of fresh blood, eyes that gleamed crimson in moonlight, and gifts that set them apart from their brethren.
I keep reading, my hands gripping the edges of the book.
The Blood Wolves possessed healing abilities beyond comprehension. A touch could mend broken bones, a kiss could cure deadly poison. Their presence strengthened pack bonds and brought prosperity to their territories. The Moon Goddess marked them as her chosen, blessed to serve as healers and guides.
Healing abilities. Like how little Thomas's leg improved impossibly fast under Alora's touch.
But such blessings came with a terrible price. The mate bond between a Blood Wolf and their chosen was unlike any other—intense, consuming, powerful beyond measure. Many Alphas who claimed Blood Wolf mates found themselves driven to madness by the strength of the bond, becoming violent and possessive beyond reason. They would kill any who looked upon their mate, destroy entire packs to keep their Blood Wolf safe.
I sit back, processing this. The intensity I feel around her, the possessiveness that grows stronger every day, the way my wolf snarls at the mere thought of her being threatened—is that the mate bond already taking hold?
Fear spread among the packs. Blood Wolves were hunted, killed, their gifts seen as curses rather than blessings. By the dawn of the Age of Great Packs, none remained. The bloodline was declared extinct, the last Blood Wolf having died protecting her mate from the very madness their bond had created.
Extinct. They think the bloodline is extinct.
But Alora's eyes flash crimson. Her healing abilities are undeniable. And she's terrified of being discovered.
Because if anyone else figures out what she is...
I close the book carefully and pull out another text, this one more recent. A historical account from two hundred years ago.
Reports persist of Blood Wolf sightings in remote territories. Northern Pack Alpha Marcus Blackthorne claims to have captured one, a female with the telltale red fur. He attempted to force a mate bond, believing her power would strengthen his pack. Within three months, Blackthorne had slaughtered half his own wolves in fits of rage, claiming they threatened his mate. The female escaped during one of his violent episodes. Blackthorne died shortly after, driven completely mad by the incomplete bond.
I keep reading through the night, piecing together fragments of information scattered across centuries.
Every documented Blood Wolf was hunted. Every Alpha who tried to claim one either went mad or was killed trying to protect them. The mate bond was so intense it became a death sentence for both parties.
As dawn breaks, I lean back in my chair, rubbing my tired eyes.
My little wolf isn't just hiding because she's different. She's hiding because her very existence makes her a target—for Alphas who want to use her power, for packs who fear what she represents, for anyone who knows the old stories.
And she's my mate.
Which means the bond between us will be even more dangerous than normal. The texts are clear—Alpha bloodlines and Blood Wolf bloodlines create the most intense, most destructive mate bonds of all.
A knock on the library door interrupts my thoughts.
"Still here?" Marcus enters, carrying two cups of coffee. "I figured you'd be up all night after the way you tore into the archives yesterday."
"What do you know about Blood Wolves?" I ask, accepting the coffee.
He freezes. "That's... an odd topic. Why?"
"Research. Historical curiosity."
"Alex." He sits across from me, his expression serious. "Blood Wolves are extinct. It has been for centuries. And even if they weren't, they're dangerous. The mate bond alone—"
"I've been reading about it."
"Then you know any Alpha foolish enough to try claiming one usually ends up dead or insane." Marcus leans forward. "Please tell me this isn't about the slave."
I don't answer, which is answer enough.
"Goddess save us," he mutters. "You think she's a Blood Wolf."
"I think she's hiding something powerful. Something that makes her valuable enough for the Northern Pack to be sniffing around our borders."
"If she is what you think she is, keeping her here puts the entire pack at risk." Marcus's voice drops. "Not just from outside threats. From you. The texts are clear, Alex. Alphas who bond with Blood Wolves lose control. Become violent. Possessive beyond reason."
"I know."
"And you're willing to risk that? Risk your sanity? Risk the pack?"
I meet his eyes. "I'm willing to protect what's mine. Whether the bond drives me mad or not is irrelevant."
"It's not irrelevant to the rest of us who have to deal with the consequences." He runs a hand through his hair. "What are you planning to do?"
"Nothing. Yet." I close the books in front of me. "She doesn't know that I know. And I need to understand more before I confront her."
"Confront her about what? About being something she's clearly terrified of being discovered as?" Marcus shakes his head. "That will go well."
He's right. If I push too hard, she'll run. And I can't have that.
"Keep researching," I tell him. "Quietly. I want to know everything about Blood Wolves. Their abilities, their weaknesses, the mate bond, how previous Alphas tried to manage it."
"And if we find that every single documented case ended in death and destruction?"
"Then we'll be the first to get it right." I stand, gathering the books. "Find the old healer, the one who left the Mitchell pack six months before Alora arrived. I want to know what he knows."
Marcus sighs but nods. "You're playing with fire, brother."
"I know." I head for the door.
I return to my chambers as the sun rises, finding the connecting door to Alora's room still closed. She's probably still asleep after another restless night—I've heard her pacing, heard her quiet struggles with whatever she's fighting.
The mate bond pulls at me, urging me to go to her. To comfort her. To claim her.
But I resist. Because now I know what claiming her might mean. The madness that could follow. The violence I might become capable of.
And still, my wolf doesn't care. She's ours, he insists. Ours to protect. Ours to keep safe.
I sit at my desk, opening another book. This one details the symptoms of the mate bond madness—increased aggression, paranoia, violent possessiveness, inability to tolerate others near the mate, loss of rational thought when the mate is threatened.
I've already experienced some of these. The rage I felt when Victoria tripped Alora. The way I can barely stand other males in her presence. The constant need to know where she is, what she's doing, if she's safe.
It's already beginning.
And we haven't even completed the bond yet.
A soft knock on my door pulls me from my dark thoughts.
"Come in."
Alora enters with my morning tea, eyes down, her movements perfectly practiced. She sets the tray on my desk without looking at me.
"Thank you," I say quietly.
She nods and turns to leave.
"Alora."
She freezes. "Yes, my Lord?"
"Have you been sleeping well?"
Her hands clench slightly. "Yes, my Lord."
"Liar." But I say it gently. "I can hear you pacing at night. Hear you struggling with something. If there's anything you need—"
"I'm fine, my Lord." Her voice is steady, but I catch the slight tremor. "Will there be anything else?"
So many things. Tell me what you are. Tell me what you're afraid of. Tell me if you feel this bond between us the way I do.
"No. That's all."
She leaves quickly, and I'm alone with my books and my growing certainty that I'm falling into the very trap that destroyed every Alpha before me.
But unlike them, I know what's coming.
And I'm going to fight like hell to keep both of us alive through it.
Even if it means fighting against my own nature.
Even if it means resisting a bond that grows stronger every day.
Even if it means watching her suffer in silence because she's too terrified to trust me with her truth.
I return to my research, determined to find an answer the old texts don't provide.
There has to be a way for a Blood Wolf and her Alpha to survive the mate bond.
I'll find it.
Or die trying.