When fate and worlds collide

20 | The Bond

I woke to a gentle, insistent beeping.

My eyelids felt like they weighed a ton, my body aching as though I’d been running and fighting for days without stopping. When I finally managed to pry my eyes open, the world swam into focus in soft blurs and pale light. It didn’t take long to recognize where I was.

The infirmary. The beeping came from the drip machine we’d salvaged months ago—temperamental, loud, and annoyingly persistent.

Well. Wasn’t I lucky.

I clenched my teeth and forced myself upright, ignoring the sharp, protesting pain that flared through every muscle. The room was empty, but the scent told another story. Liam hadn’t been gone long. His Alpha scent lingered thick in the air, sharper than usual—guilt and something dangerously close to regret clinging to it. I scrubbed a hand over my face and eyes, breathing through the ache. My head felt…clear. Refreshed in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time. That alone set my nerves on edge.

What I’d done to Liam should have killed me with the state I’d been in. Waking up here meant only one thing—he’d gotten me to Rowan in time, before the stolen blood could burn me out from the inside.

Why it happened at all was still a mystery. And why it only ever happened after tasting pack blood.

I frowned, then reached down and gently pulled the drip from my arm—Doc was going to lose his mind over that—I swung my legs over the side of the bed and glanced around. My clothes were folded neatly on the chair, boots placed on the floor, exactly where I’d want them. Weapons lined up on the bedside table, close enough to grab without thinking.

Xavier.

Only he knew how badly that would go if I woke up without my gear. A small, reluctant smile tugged at my mouth.

I’d just finished getting dressed when voices drifted down the corridor—two men, speaking low but not low enough. His scent hit me before I saw him, my body reacting instantly, traitor that it was. I clenched my fist until my nails bit into my palm, grounding myself, refusing the pull to reach for him through the bond, to seek him out and feel contact.

The door opened abruptly. the conversation dying on the spot.

Doc shuffled in first, eyes narrowing the moment he clocked me upright and dressed. He was on me in seconds, checking the arm where the drip had been.

“I should’ve insisted harder on chaining you to the bed,” he muttered. I smiled despite myself. “Next time, I’ll do it myself.” he added darkly.

“I’m fine, Doc.”

“And I’m a flying old goat,” he shot back, already checking my vitals. When he was satisfied, he stepped back and folded his arms, bushy white eyebrows jutting in every direction as he glared at me. “If I’d known you’d be this difficult about taking my work seriously, I would’ve drugged you harder from the start.” A soft laugh escaped me. The first time we met, he’d injected me with a sleep serum as self-defence the moment I turned my back.

It was the last time I ever judged someone by appearances—especially when they looked like a harmless eighty-year-old man.

“I’m okay, Doc. Really.” I forced a smile. It didn’t fool him for a second, but he let it go. Liam remained where he was, leaning against the wall near the door. Face neutral. Eyes hard. My body was still waging an internal war with his scent, instinct clawing at reason.

“If there’s nothing else,” Doc added gruffly, “I’ll leave you to it. I’ll check on you later tonight—just to be sure your body’s clear.” He gave my hand a brief pat and shuffled out, murmuring something low to Liam as he passed.

The door shut.

Neither of us moved.

My hands gripped the edge of the bed as I stared out the window at the broken city beyond the glass, the ruins bathed in dull afternoon light.

“What you did was stupid,” Liam spoke at last, his voice rough and low.

“You’re the stupid one for letting your beast take control.”

“You shouldn’t have risked your life for me—”

“I did it for Rowan. Not you.” I cut him off, flicking him a sharp glance. “You put him at risk. If I hadn’t acted, you’d have torn half my Tower apart.” His mouth snapped shut. He hated when I reminded him whose blood, sweat, and bones this place had been built on.

“Why must you always be so difficult?” he demanded.

“Because you still don’t understand that I’m not your property.” He sighed, loud and frustrated. We’d had this argument more times than I could count.

“You gave up the title.”

“Yes,” I snapped, finally turning to face him fully, eyes blazing as I fought down instinct and memory alike. “But not to be chained as your Luna. You made that decision for me. You took away my choice.”

“As I recall,” he replied coolly, “you weren’t complaining that night.” My body went rigid. “I didn’t take away your decision to sleep with me.” He pushed off the wall and stalked closer. His scent hit me like a freight train—power, heat, command. A traitorous, breathy whimper slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Liam leaned over me, bracing his arms on either side of my body as I leaned back instinctively. There was nowhere to go.

“Why do you fight this, Aiya?” he murmured. My name on his lips sent a dangerous shiver down my spine.

“Liam,” I whispered. In my mind I begged him to stop, trying to push the bond away. But it was too late. He could already smell my arousal, feel my body betraying me.

“Neither of us knew what would happen that night,” he continued, his voice low as his lips brushed my collarbone. My body arched toward him against my will. “We were both unwilling in this bond.” His glowing green eyes locked with mine, our powers clashing, tugging, trying to fuse, to connect. “But I don’t understand why you waste this opportunity.” he added softly, dangerously.

“Because neither of us would benefit from it,” I replied firmly, forcing the words out past instinct and heat. It was no secret I had no love to give beyond duty to my people and devotion to my son. I’d made that clear the very first night I’d shared Liam’s bed.

And I had never once pretended it would change.

“I’m not asking you to love me, Aiya,” he answered quietly. “I’m asking you to help me lead.” I paused, frowning. That wasn’t what I’d expected. I’d always assumed he wanted the title all to himself.

“What?” I said flatly. “But you…wanted this role.”

“Yes,” he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face, “but I can’t do it alone. The pack and people follow my orders—but their loyalty? Their faith?” His gaze lifted to meet mine. “That belongs to you. You built this place. You fight beside them, bleed beside them.”

“Maybe you should try that sometime,” I shot back. “Might clear up who they’re actually loyal to.”

He sighed, exasperated. “There’s more to leadership than fighting every day. Did you know our western crops failed this season? Completely. Or that the water pump went down last week? Or that part of our wheat stores spoiled?” I stiffened. I’d heard rumors about the crops struggling—but not failing outright.

“This,” he continued, voice heavier now, “is the side no one sees. I handle it all. And yet, despite wearing the title of Alpha, it’s you they trust. Every time you defy me publicly, it proves to them that I’m not really in charge.”

“I’m not going to sit behind walls while everyone else risks their lives,” I snapped. “I didn’t build this place to hide inside. I built it for my son. For the people. Our people.” He stood, pacing, fingers threading through his hair.

“I can’t be an Alpha without a Luna, Aiya. Not with our bond. Not now. Anyone else I choose will never be accepted.” That much was painfully true. Even four years after the fall, our understanding of Auras and pack bonds was patchwork at best—learned through blood, mistakes, and trial by fire. What Liam and I had formed hadn’t been intentional. We’d thought it meaningless at the time.

We’d been wrong.

The truth became horrifyingly clear when he’d tried to replace me after I refused the role. Her screams—slow, drawn-out, helpless—still haunted my dreams.

“You can’t force me to stay inside the walls,” I replied evenly.

“I know,” he muttered.

“And you can’t chain me to your side.”

“…I know.”

“Then why keep trying?”

He stopped pacing, shoulders sagging. “Because whether you want to hear it or not, I care about you. As much as I care about this Tower—maybe more. The bond doesn’t discriminate. I feel what you feel when we are close. The pull. The desire. And when you undermine me in front of the council, it weakens my authority. It makes leading harder.”

“Act like a leader all you want,” I shot back, venom sharp on my tongue, “but the more you push me around, the harder I’ll push back. I’m not your bitch.” His posture snapped rigid, anger flaring in his eyes.

“Look, I don’t want to control you,” he replied tightly. “And I know you flipped that switch a long time ago for whatever reason—cutting yourself off from needing anyone. From needing to feel emotions like love.” I flinched as unwanted memories surged, hot and ugly. “What I want,” he went on, voice dropping, “what I need, is for you to work with me. Every time you throw yourself into danger just to prove something…” He trailed off, turning away. “It unsettles me. Knowing I can’t protect you. Knowing I’m supposed to be your Alpha, your mate—and you won’t even let me stand close enough to try, in fear you might feel something other than duty.”

He dragged a hand down his face, exhaustion etched into every line.

“I know this isn’t easy,” he continued quietly. “I’ve been trying to make sense of it since the bond formed. But you can’t keep running from something we created together. Without you, I’m not at full strength. I can’t protect this Tower properly when you’re gone. And when you’re here…” He hesitated. “The tension between us—it’s poisoning everything we’ve built. Everything you built.”

I hated that he was right.

Even when I returned, even when my power settled back into the Tower like it belonged there, something always felt…off. Sour. Like the foundation itself knew we were fractured. And fractures, no matter how small, always spread if not stopped.