The Huntress’s Mate

Chapter Three – The Bond

The forest seemed colder when Aria finally stumbled back to the village. Mira was waiting at the edge of the gate, crossbow in hand, her face lined with worry and anger.

“Where in the gods’ names were you?” Mira hissed, pulling her aside before the guards could overhear. “You broke formation. You could have been torn apart.”

Aria swallowed, her throat raw. She had no answer. What could she say—that she had looked the Alpha in the eye and hadn’t loosed her arrow? That the woman she had sworn to kill had pressed her to a tree and whispered words that now haunted her every breath?

“I tracked a stray,” Aria muttered instead. “I lost it.”

Mira’s gaze narrowed, searching her face for cracks. “You’re lying.”

Aria turned away. “It doesn’t matter. I’m alive.”

But that night, when she lay in her narrow bed staring at the low ceiling of her cabin, it did matter. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Selene’s face—golden eyes, steady voice, the heat of her body so close it felt branded into Aria’s skin.

Her hand curled into the thin blanket. She hated herself for the way her chest ached with something that wasn’t fear.

Days passed, but the bond didn’t loosen. If anything, it pulled tighter. She felt it in the most unexpected moments—in the market when she should have been focused on trading, on the training grounds when her arrows veered slightly off target, in the silence of night when the world slept but her heart refused to.

Mira noticed. Of course she did.

“You’re distracted,” she said one morning, watching Aria fumble with her bowstring. “Your head isn’t here.”

Aria bit down on the inside of her cheek. “I’m fine.”

“Fine gets you killed.” Mira folded her arms. “What happened out there? Tell me the truth.”

Aria’s jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t understand.”

Mira studied her, then sighed heavily. “Maybe not. But you can’t keep carrying whatever this is. Sooner or later, it will break you.”

Aria turned away, but her heart pounded at the words. It already was breaking her.

That night, unable to bear the walls of the village pressing in, she slipped out into the forest again. The moon was thinner now, pale silver instead of blood-red, but it lit the woods enough for her to find her way. She told herself she wasn’t searching. She was only walking, only clearing her head.

But deep down, she knew.

And when the rustle came—soft footsteps that didn’t belong to prey—she didn’t raise her bow.

“You came back,” Selene’s voice murmured from the shadows.

Aria’s breath caught. The Alpha stepped into the moonlight, her presence as overwhelming as the night they first met.

“I didn’t come for you,” Aria said quickly, though the words rang hollow even to her own ears.

Selene’s lips curved. “Then why didn’t you run when you heard me?”

Aria opened her mouth, closed it again. She had no answer.

Selene circled her slowly, a predator at ease, though her movements carried no threat. “You’ve felt it growing, haven’t you? The pull.”

Aria forced herself to stand tall. “If you’re trying to trick me—”

“Trick you?” Selene’s golden eyes gleamed. “Do you think I asked for this? Do you think I wanted my mate to be the huntress sworn to kill me?”

The word hit Aria hard. Mate. She had heard it in whispers, in old stories, but always dismissed it as superstition—wolves claiming some mystical bond that tied souls together. Yet now, standing before Selene, she felt it burning through her veins.

“I’m not yours,” Aria said, but her voice shook.

Selene stepped closer, so close Aria could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. “Tell that to your heart.”

Aria’s chest heaved. She hated how true it was. Every part of her screamed to deny it, to cling to her people’s laws, her training, her loyalty. And yet, beneath it all, another truth pulsed, undeniable. She wanted her.

“You’re dangerous,” Aria whispered.

Selene tilted her head. “And you like it.”

The words burned through her. Aria turned away sharply, but Selene caught her wrist, holding it firm. Not rough, not painful—just unyielding.

“I won’t hurt you,” Selene said softly. “But I won’t let you go either. The bond won’t allow it.”

Aria’s throat tightened. She should have fought, should have yanked free, should have struck the Alpha down right then and there. Instead, she stood frozen, her pulse hammering as Selene’s thumb brushed lightly over her skin, leaving fire in its wake.

“Let me prove it to you,” Selene murmured.

Aria jerked back, finally finding her voice. “No. I can’t. My people—if they knew I was even speaking to you—”

“They’d call you a traitor,” Selene finished, her tone calm, not cruel. “But they don’t know you like I do. They don’t see you. Not really.”

Aria’s breath caught at the words. She had always carried her mother’s shadow, always been judged against her failure, her stubbornness, her anger. Yet here, in the gaze of the Alpha she was supposed to hate, she felt seen in a way that terrified her.

“I should kill you,” Aria whispered, though her dagger stayed sheathed.

Selene leaned closer, her golden eyes steady. “Then why don’t you?”

Aria’s silence was answer enough.

The forest seemed to hold its breath. The only sound was the rush of blood in Aria’s ears.

Selene finally released her wrist, stepping back slowly, though her gaze never wavered. “You’ll keep fighting it. I expect nothing less. But every time you breathe, every time you dream, you’ll think of me. And when you can’t stand the distance anymore, you’ll return.”

Aria’s chest rose and fell unevenly. “You think you know me.”

“I do.” Selene’s voice was steady, quiet but certain. “Because the moon doesn’t lie. And neither does the bond.”

With that, the Alpha turned and melted back into the trees, leaving Aria trembling in the clearing.

For a long moment she stood frozen, the night pressing in around her. She wanted to scream, to tear out the feeling that had rooted itself inside her chest. But when she pressed a hand over her heart, all she felt was the truth she could no longer deny.

The bond was real.

And it was only getting stronger.