Bound to My Enemy's Alpha

The Keep

Ivy placed her bag onto her back as she grabbed the first of the massive rocks. Her grip on it was a little loose.

"Seems the dew has made it hard to hold onto," she sighed.

Ivy made sure she tightened the bag as she leaned onto the rocks and began to climb. The higher she went, the colder it became, and her vision started to blur at the edges. Sharp stone cut into her palms as she pulled herself higher.

Her breath had gone thin somewhere below her without her noticing. Her arms ached, her hands trembled as they searched for the next hold, and the bag on her back kept dragging her weight backward at exactly the moment she needed it least. Her bones screamed at her.

Just a little further, she told herself as she reached for a rock.

Her arms were too short. Ivy strained as she tried to reach the rock, but still, she was some inches short.

Then she heard a loud rumble within the clouds. She had been climbing for so long that she had lost track of time.

“Come on, not now,” Ivy sighed.

Ivy held herself in place. Her muscles tightened as she eyed the rock.

“You can do this,” she said as she took a deep breath.

Ivy used her hands and leaped forward; she let out a grunt as she did.

She watched as she got close to the rock, her hand outstretched as she reached for it. She took hold of it. Her hand gripped it hard, until it didn’t.

It felt slow, but Ivy could feel it. Her hand was slipping. Her eyes widened as she watched her fingers about to give out.

Any rash movements would lead to me falling, Ivy thought to herself.

And then her fingers gave out. She could see that the slab got further away. The wind rang in her ears.

A sharp pain pierced her sides.

A loud howl was held within her throat. The ground got ever closer. She barged into numerous rocks and lost her bag in the process.

The pain overwhelmed her to the extent that her claws grew out and held onto one of the rocks.

Ivy’s breath was heavy. Her body ached all over. She could also feel that it leaked.

Ivy braced herself as she continued up the mountain. With the help of her claws, it became easier and faster to get up there.

Before she knew it, she was already up there, on level ground.

Her body collapsed to the ground as the clouds finally let the rain drop. Ivy’s blood mixed with the dirt below her.

The cold rain droplets sank into her skin and, in a way, made her feel refreshed. But all that was short-lived as a shadow was cast over her.

His scent was thick and masculine.

He looked at his watch before he looked at her one more time.

“You are late,” his words boomed into her ears.

“Really expected more from the future Luna of this court. Also, try to get yourself cleaned up and be ready for dinner,” he said as he began to walk away but stopped midway.

“Make sure to get those healed before tomorrow. We don’t want a broken wolf in combat classes,” he said finally before he left.

Broken? The word echoed in her head.

I’ll deal with it later, but for now, I’ll catch my breath, Ivy thought to herself.

And then she felt it.

The bond.

It had just gotten stronger.

He’s here.

Ivy sat up to look around, but she saw no one. But she could feel it; he was close by.

And then she saw a shadowy figure move and head into the Keep.

Ivy lay back.

Kael can wait, but her rest can’t.

After she had rested for a while, Ivy rose and looked toward the Keep.

The Old Keep rose out of the mist ahead of her, and for a moment, exhaustion forgotten, all Ivy could do was stare.

It didn't look like Duskmoor's stronghold at all, no soft ivy-draped stone, no warm gold windows. The Keep was carved directly into the mountain itself, dark grey walls fused seamlessly with the rock behind them, towers jagged rather than elegant, built for war and nothing gentler than war. Banners hung from the outer wall, snapping hard in wind this high up. She recognized the crimson crescent of House Draven among them, along with that of House Voss and others she didn't yet have names for.

On the walls, she saw people patrolling it.

Ivy began to drag her injured body towards the wall. Her healing abilities kicked in, even though it was slow.

The doors into the Keep opened up to her. Her nose was assaulted by various scents of werewolves. Some were strong, others faint.

Ivy walked into the Keep. She saw some brute-faced men who sparred. She could smell the sweat that rolled off their bodies.

At a corner, she saw some who stretched before they transformed into werewolves.

Ivy just stood, mesmerized by everything around her.

“Hi,” a soft voice spoke from behind her.

Ivy turned to a lady her age. Her eyes were brown, and her hair was a kind of fiery red. The lady’s stature was quite small, even compared to Ivy.

“You know, it’s rude to stare at someone,” the young lady said as she avoided Ivy’s gaze.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Ivy said as she reached out to the young lady.

“It’s fine. At least you apologize,” the young lady said as she began to walk to her room.

Ivy just stared blankly at the young lady as she began to walk toward somewhere within the Keep.

After the lady had walked for a while, she stopped and looked to her sides. When she noticed she was alone, she immediately ran back awkwardly.

“I’m sorry. I actually thought you were coming along. I’m actually meant to take you to your room,” the lady said as she bowed her head.

The two walked towards the Keep dormitories.

The room they gave her was small, spare, and clean: a narrow bed, a washbasin, and a single high window that let in a slice of grey mountain light. After Duskmoor's high ceilings and Voss Hall's cold grandeur, the plainness of it felt almost like relief.

"Bathroom's through there," the red-haired girl said, pointing.

"I'll wait outside. Dinner's called by horn. You'll hear it."

"Thank you," Ivy said, and meant it more than the girl probably realized.

The door shut behind her, and Ivy allowed herself exactly one long breath before she peeled off what remained of her ruined climbing clothes and stepped into the small stone bathing chamber beyond.

The water ran hot, mercifully hot, and Ivy stood beneath it longer than she probably should have, watching dirt and dried blood swirl away from a dozen shallow cuts down her arms and sides.

Her healing had already knit the worst of it closed, faster than it should have, she noted, faster than any ordinary sworn wolf's healing had any right to be, leaving only thin, pink lines where deep gashes had opened during the fall.

It was only once the worst of the grime had washed away that she saw it properly for the first time.

The mark sat low on her hip, where Voss's blood had touched her during the Rite: a wolf, howling, caught beneath the curve of a full moon, the lines of it dark and precise as though inked rather than burned.

Ivy pressed two fingers against it, half expecting pain, but there was none. Just a strange, low warmth, like something settled and waiting rather than something wounded.

House Voss, she thought again, the way she had in the crypt, and the words still didn't sit right in her own mind, no matter how many times she repeated them.

She traced the howling wolf's outline slowly, memorizing it.

She dressed quickly once she'd dried off, her mind already elsewhere.

A set of clothes had been left folded on the end of the bed while she bathed: sturdy black strap trousers, a fitted black strap shirt, and a pair of boots laced high enough to brace her ankles, all of it plain, functional, built for movement rather than court.

Nothing like the silks she'd worn to the Rite.

Ivy pulled them on gratefully; they fit like they'd been made for exactly this, for someone who needed to run, fight, and climb, not curtsey.

When she stepped back out into the corridor, the red-haired girl was waiting exactly where she'd said she'd be, and something in her expression shifted slightly at the sight of Ivy dressed and steady on her feet.

The girl said nothing as they both walked in the corridor that led to the dining hall.

The door into the hall was large. Both she and the young lady stood at the door. The discussions from within the hall leaked to the outside.

She took a deep breath and placed her hand on the door.

And then she felt it.

A large tug in her chest.

The bond.

Kael.