Unbroken bond

Chapter 3

Raziel’s POV

The music in the Blackwood estate was loud enough to vibrate the glass in the windows. This wasn’t just a party; it was a coronation. Every high-ranking family in the territory had sent representatives to watch the Alpha heir of the Blair line turn twenty-one.

The air was a thick, suffocating soup of pheromones. Alphas trying to assert dominance, Omegas scenting the air for potential matches, and Betas like me trying to keep the peace.

"Looking sharp, Black," Jax shouted over the bass, clapping me on the shoulder. He was already wearing a party hat lopsidedly, a drink in each hand. "Where’s the birthday boy?"

"In the den, I think," I said, adjusting my collar. I felt like I was wearing a suit made of lead. "His dad wanted a word with him before the shift started."

"Probably giving him the 'great power, great responsibility' speech," Mila added, appearing from the crowd in a sleek dark dress. She looked at me, her eyes narrowing. "You’re pale, Raz. And you’re sweating. Is it starting?"

"It’s just hot in here, Mila," I lied, though my shoulder was currently feeling like someone was holding a branding iron against it.

Just then, the double doors at the top of the grand staircase swung open. Killian stepped out, and the room went dead silent for a heartbeat before erupting in cheers.

He looked incredible. He’d traded his usual hoodies for a black button-down with the sleeves rolled up, revealing the heavy silver watch his grandfather had given him. He looked like the Alpha he was born to be—powerful, untouchable, and utterly confident.

His eyes scanned the room, ignoring the elders and the beautiful girls vying for his attention, until they landed on me. He flashed that familiar, crooked smirk and started heading down the stairs, but he was intercepted halfway.

Clare.

She looked stunning in a red dress that left very little to the imagination. She wrapped her arms around Killian’s neck, pulling him down for a kiss that was clearly meant for the entire room to see.

I felt a sharp, jagged spike of jealousy pierce my chest. It wasn't just a human emotion; it was my wolf. It was pacing in the back of my mind, bared teeth and low growls. Ours, the voice whispered. Not hers.

"Get a room!" Jax yelled, breaking the tension.

Killian pulled back, laughing, and draped an arm around Clare’s waist as he reached us. "She’s impatient," he joked, but his eyes drifted back to me. He looked at me for a long beat, his nostrils flaring. The playful light in his eyes flickered, replaced by a sudden, intense confusion.

"You okay, Black?" he asked, his voice dropping below the music.

"Fine," I croaked. "Happy birthday, Killian."

"Thanks." He reached out to ruffle my hair, but he stopped mid-air. He looked at his own hand as if it belonged to a stranger, his fingers trembling slightly. He pulled it back and cleared his throat. "C'mon. Let’s get a drink. I’ve got ten minutes of freedom left."

The final ten minutes were a blur. We were huddled in our usual circle, but the "bestie" energy was strained. Killian kept Clare tucked under his arm, but he wasn't looking at her. He was staring at the clock on the mantle, his jaw tight.

"Five minutes," Mila whispered, her eyes glued to her watch.

The elders began to gather in a semi-circle. Killian’s father, the current Alpha, stood at the center, his presence heavy and demanding.

"It’s time," the Elder said.

Killian stepped forward, letting go of Clare. She tried to cling to his hand, but he pulled away with a sudden, sharp motion. He looked restless, his skin flushed, a fine sheen of sweat covering his forehead.

"Ready, Black?" he called out, his voice sounding strained. He looked back at me, searching for the anchor I had always been for him.

"Right behind you," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

The room went dark, save for the silver glow of the moon streaming through the skylight. A heavy, rhythmic drumming started—the heartbeat of the pack.

60 seconds.

The itch on my shoulder turned into a searing heat. I gripped the back of a chair to keep from collapsing. My vision started to blur, colors bleeding into one another.

30 seconds.

Killian let out a low, guttural groan. He dropped to one knee, his hands clawing at the floor. His shirt buttons snapped as his chest expanded, his muscles rippling with the force of the transition.

10 seconds.

The air in the room became electric. I could smell him—really smell him. It wasn't just cedar and rain anymore. It was home. It was the other half of my soul.

5... 4... 3... 2...

Midnight.

A shockwave of pure energy erupted from Killian, throwing the nearest people back. A golden light flared behind his eyes as his wolf finally fully awakened.

And then, it happened.

The invisible thread that had been pulling at us for years snapped into a solid, unbreakable chain. A golden light, visible only to us, arched across the space between us, connecting my heart directly to his.

The pain vanished instantly, replaced by a rush of euphoria so intense I gasped. Every sense I had was suddenly tuned to him. I could feel his heartbeat in my own chest. I could feel his shock, his confusion, and then—the overwhelming realization.

Killian froze. He was still on one knee, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He slowly turned his head, his glowing gold eyes locking onto mine.

The room was silent. Everyone was waiting for him to claim his mate. They were looking at the girls, looking at Clare, who was standing there with an expectant smile.

But Killian was looking at me.

"No," he whispered.

The word was small, but in the bond, it felt like a mountain collapsing.

"Killian?" I breathed, reaching out a trembling hand.

He stood up, his height now even more imposing, his Alpha aura crushing the air out of the room. The euphoria in the bond was suddenly doused in ice-cold water. He looked at the golden thread connecting us, and his face twisted into a mask of pure, unadulterated horror.

"I said no!" he roared, his voice vibrating with Alpha authority.

He looked at the elders, then at the shocked faces of our friends, and finally back at me. The heat in his eyes wasn't love. It wasn't even the "bestie" affection we’d shared for fifteen years.

It was betrayal.

"I am the heir to the Blair line," he spat, the words cutting through me like a serrated blade. "I am not being tied down to a Beta. I am not being 'destined' to my own shadow.

"He stepped toward me, and for the first time in my life, I was afraid of him.

"I told you, Black," he hissed, his voice echoing in the silent hall. "I don't do strings. I don't care what the moon says.

"He took a deep breath, his Alpha power flaring until it was painful to stand near him.

"I, Killian Blair, Alpha heir of the Blackwood lineage, reject you, Raziel Black, as my fated mate."

The golden thread didn't just break. It shattered.

It felt like someone had reached into my chest and ripped my heart out with their bare hands. I fell to my knees, a silent scream tearing through my throat. The "total loneliness" I had feared wasn't just a feeling—it was a physical vacuum, sucking the life out of me.

Killian didn't reach for me. He didn't even look back as I collapsed.

"Party's over," he barked at the room, his voice cold and hollow.

He walked past Clare, past his father, and out into the night, leaving me broken on the floor of the room where we were supposed to become kings.