69

69

Jaden’s POV

The night was restless long before she screamed.
I felt it in the way the wolves circled each other in the yard, their eyes darting, their ears twitching at shadows that weren’t there. The curse seeped through me, and the pack drank it in like poison from the air. They whispered when they thought I couldn’t hear, words that tangled like snakes: Alpha, cursed, mate, human girl.
It had been hours since I dismissed the council, hours since I punished Korrin for daring to speak against her. And still, I felt their unease trailing me. Doubt clung to them like a disease.
I kept my distance. If I stayed close, their fear became mine, their whispers another chain. So I took myself to the yard, stripped down to nothing but sweat and blood, and threw myself into combat drills until my muscles screamed.
Every swing of the blade, every strike of claw against the training post, I told myself I could silence the curse by sheer force. But it laughed in my chest, in the black blood that pulsed too hot in my veins.
Then it happened.
Her voice.
Not in the yard, not in the pack’s ears — but in me. In the marrow of my bones.
She screamed my name.
I staggered mid-swing, the sword clattering to the ground. The wolves froze, every head snapping toward me. My breath caught sharp in my chest as the tether snapped taut, dragging me forward though my feet had not yet moved.
Her voice was raw, desperate, searing through me like a brand.
The whispers in the yard rose immediately. “He heard her.” “The bond calls.” “It’s begun.”
I bared my teeth in a warning growl, and silence fell like a blade. My wolves lowered their eyes, but I saw the truth in their bodies: fear. Not just of me, but of what I was tied to.
“Go,” I commanded, my voice carrying more curse than Alpha authority. They scattered, some stumbling in their haste. Even Korrin, his arm bound tight, limped away with a last, bitter glance.
The tether pulled harder. My chest burned, my lungs heaved as though her scream had stolen the air from me. I moved before thought could intervene, striding out of the yard and toward the inner keep.
Every step closer to her chamber thickened the bond, the thrum of her heartbeat merging with mine, her fear dripping like acid through my tongue. My own pulse matched hers, wild, uneven. I wanted to tear through the door, claim her, silence her trembling with the bite of my mark.
But I didn’t.
I couldn’t.
I stopped short of her door, my claws digging into stone to keep myself grounded. Nancy’s frantic scent lingered on the wood. Nyra’s calm, chilling presence hummed faintly beyond. And through it all, her.
She was falling. Even in sleep, she was falling.
I closed my eyes. And the tether dragged me down.

The fire greeted me like an old friend.
Always fire. Always smoke, choking, cloying, clawing at my lungs. The dream-world was not just hers. It was mine, carved from the bones of my curse, painted in ash and flame. Houses burning, wolves howling with voices that no longer belonged to them. The sky itself split open with sparks.
And there she stood.
Small, fragile, yet brighter than the inferno itself. Her eyes darted, her lips parted, and the mark glowed faintly on her shoulder — veins of black crawling down her arm like roots seeking to bury themselves in her.
My chest clenched. She should have looked broken, but she didn’t. Even trembling, even pale, she met the fire like it had to answer to her.
“You called me,” I said. My voice sounded strange here — lower, rougher, as though the flames had been chewing on it.
Her head snapped toward me, her eyes wet with smoke. “I didn’t mean to.”
She had. The tether hummed with it, undeniable. Her denial was human, soft and frightened. But the bond never lied.
“You did.” I stepped forward, the fire parting like cloth. My curse bowed to me here. Flames curved away, smoke shifted back.
And she came closer too, though she fought it. Every ounce of her defiance braced against the pull, but the tether always won.
“I can’t belong to you.” Her voice cracked, but her eyes never dropped. Brave. Gods, she was so brave.
“You already do,” I said, not as Alpha, not as monster, but as a man who knew he had no escape. “And I to you. That is the curse, Thalia. That is the bond.”
The mark seared her skin, brightening, and she cried out, clutching it. Her pain lanced through me, sharper than any blade. I wanted to tear the bond from her body, carve it out of her flesh with my own claws. But the curse only laughed at my desire.
“Choose me,” I begged. Not command, not demand — plea. My hand lifted, palm open, flames coiling like tame serpents between my fingers. “Or be consumed.”
Her eyes glistened with tears, her lips trembling. The fire roared higher, drowning out her words. I could only see her mouth shape something — a prayer, a denial, or maybe my name again.
The curse pressed harder, whispering: Take her. End this. Bite, claim, silence her doubt.
And gods help me, I wanted to. The beast in me wanted nothing more than to seize her, sink my teeth into the curve of her neck, and drink until her heartbeat matched mine.
But I had vowed. And vows bound even cursed wolves.
I held my hand out instead, shaking. Flames bent around it, offering themselves. If she touched me, if she closed the gap — the bond would ignite fully. The curse might shatter, or it might devour us both.
She didn’t move. She clutched her shoulder, trembling, tears streaking her ash-stained cheeks.
And then — the ground gave way.
The dream cracked beneath her like glass, and she fell into the dark. The tether yanked hard, dragging me half after her. I roared, reaching, claws scraping sparks against the abyss.
“Thalia!”
Her scream echoed mine, fading as she vanished into shadow.

I woke with a snarl, sweat soaking my skin, the sheets shredded beneath my claws. My hand bled freely, stone dust clinging to the gouges I’d torn in the wall.
Her heartbeat still thundered in me — alive, frantic, uneven.
Alive. That was all that mattered.
But the hunger remained. My veins burned, my chest heaved, the curse gnawing like wolves at a carcass. Every fiber of me screamed to run to her, to end the ache by forcing the bond complete.
I didn’t. I couldn’t.
I staggered to my feet, pacing like a beast in too small a cage. Through the window, I saw torches flicker in the courtyard. Wolves awake at this hour meant only one thing: they had heard.
Of course they had.
Her scream, my roar — the bond’s echo never stayed quiet.
A Beta approached the steps, his face pale even in the firelight. He bowed low but not deep enough. I could smell it on him: suspicion, fear, doubt.
“She called for you again,” he said carefully. “The pack is restless. They wonder if… if she leads you, not you her.”
My claws flexed. My curse bristled. Challenge. Doubt. Weakness. The pack was already circling, waiting for me to stumble.
I bared my teeth, stepping into the torchlight, letting them all see the fire in my eyes. “Tell the pack this,” I said, my voice low, dangerous, steady. “If they question my bond, they question me. And I will not be questioned.”
The Beta flinched, bowing deeper this time. “Yes, Alpha.”
He retreated, but the whispers did not. They would never stop now.
And inside me, the tether throbbed with her heartbeat, her fear, her pull.
If she resisted much longer… if the pack pressed
harder…
I wasn’t sure which would break first. My vow. Or me.