Marked by Fate

Chapter Four: Unclaimed

Evan leaned against the far wall of *The Wolf’s Den*, a drink he had no intention of finishing in his hand. The rhythmic thrum of the bass coursed through the crowded room, but it did nothing to ease the tension gripping his chest. His Beta, Marcus, was speaking to him about border patrols, rogue sightings, something. Evan nodded absently, his mind elsewhere.

It wasn’t the rogues keeping him on edge.

It was *her.*

He felt it before he saw her—the faint, electric pull that had been tormenting him for days. And then she walked in.

Claire.

His mate.

She was a vision. The dim lighting of the bar only accentuated the way her black dress hugged her curves, the way her auburn curls framed her face like a fiery halo. She moved with confidence, her head held high, and yet there was an air of untamed wildness about her. It was intoxicating.

Evan clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stay rooted in place. His hands tightened into fists, the glass in his hand straining under the pressure.

*You can’t. Not yet.*

It was a mantra he’d been repeating to himself ever since the bond had begun to stir within him. She wasn’t 18 yet, and until the bond fully awakened for her, she was still free. Untethered. It was his duty to let her have these last moments of freedom before her life changed forever.

But damn, was it hard.

When her eyes swept across the room, oblivious to the way the entire bar seemed to revolve around her, his heart clenched. He wanted to go to her, to claim her, to stake his mark on her soft skin and let every wolf in the pack know she was his.

But he couldn’t.

Not now.

Not yet.

Marcus’s voice broke through his thoughts. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

Evan exhaled slowly, setting the drink down on the nearest table. “I’m listening. Keep talking.”

Marcus followed his line of sight and chuckled. “Ah. So that’s why you’ve been so tense lately.”

Evan shot him a warning look. “Drop it.”

“Sure, Alpha,” Marcus said, smirking but wisely retreating to another part of the bar.

Evan’s gaze returned to Claire. She was at the bar now, laughing at something her friend Sarah said. The sound of her laughter carried to him, light and carefree, and it was like a knife to his chest. He’d seen Claire a thousand times before, during training, around the pack, even at formal gatherings. But tonight, she was different.

Tonight, she was everything he couldn’t have.

---

As the night went on, Evan’s internal struggle only grew. She danced with reckless abandon, her hips swaying to the music in a way that made his blood run hot. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to stay in the shadows.

Every wolf in the bar could sense his tension. A few of the older warriors glanced his way, their gazes questioning, but no one dared approach him.

*She deserves better than this,* he thought bitterly.

Better than the weight of being Luna. Better than being tied to him, the Alpha who carried the burdens of an entire pack. She deserved freedom, a life where she could pursue her dreams without the shackles of responsibility.

But the bond didn’t care about logic. It didn’t care about duty or sacrifice.

It only cared about *her.*

---

When midnight struck, Evan felt the shift like a bolt of lightning. The bond roared to life, sharper and more demanding than ever. He could sense her now, every emotion humming in the back of his mind like a symphony he couldn’t ignore.

He watched as the bar erupted into cheers, Claire laughing as Sarah hugged her. She glowed in the dim light, radiant and untouchable.

*Mine.*

The word surged through him, primal and undeniable. His wolf howled in agreement, urging him to close the distance, to pull her into his arms and let the world know she belonged to him.

But he couldn’t. Not tonight.

Evan pushed off the wall and crossed the room, his body moving on instinct. He stopped a few feet away from her, and when she turned to face him, he saw the flicker of surprise in her eyes.

“Having fun?” he asked, his voice low.

She nodded, her lips curving into a hesitant smile. “Yeah. It’s my birthday tomorrow. Well, technically today.”

“I know,” he said, his tone softer than he intended. “Happy birthday.”

She looked at him curiously, like she wanted to ask him something, but the noise of the bar swept around them, breaking the moment.

Evan stepped back before the pull could consume him.

“Enjoy your night, Claire,” he said, his voice tight as he forced himself to walk away.

With every step, the bond pulled harder, begging him to turn around, to take her, to forget his responsibilities. But he couldn’t give in—not now, not when so much was at stake.

Claire deserved to make her choice, even if it tore him apart.