Savage Bond

Savage Bond Epi2

Chapter 5: The King of Wolves

Dominic

I’d killed men for less than what those bastards did to her.

I’d told myself I was there for intel. A contact had tipped me off—rogue hunters were running a slave ring, peddling off ferals and orphan-blood wolves for sport. I told myself it was politics.

But the second I smelled her—ash, silver, grief and home...

I didn’t hesitate.

She was unconscious in the cage, face bloody, collar digging into her skin. And I felt the bond hit like a damn freight train.

So I bought her. Claimed her.

Saved her.

Now she was upstairs, probably trying to claw her way out of her skin, and I was trying to figure out how to protect something so fragile without scaring it more.

Calista stormed into my study without knocking. "She’s traumatized. You could try, I don’t know, being kind."

I raised a brow. "I’m not you."

"She doesn’t need another prison. She needs a reason to stay."

"She’ll stay."

Calista folded her arms. "You can’t just alpha your way into her heart."

"I don’t want her heart."

Lie. The worst kind.

Calista saw through it. "Then why haven’t you marked her yet?"

I didn’t answer.

Truth was, I wanted to. My wolf already thought of her as ours. But marking her would make it real. Permanent. And she wasn’t ready.

Not yet.

"She deserves to know what really happened to her pack," Calista said softly.

"I’m working on it."

"Work faster. She’s not going to trust you until she knows you didn’t just find her. You chose her."

I leaned back in my chair, jaw tight. "Then I’ll show her."

Because if fate gave me a mate, she wasn’t a prize.

She was a reckoning.

Chapter 6: Wolves in the Walls Taissa

Three days.

That’s how long I stayed hidden inside that absurdly beautiful room, alternating between pacing, sleeping, and staring out the high window that overlooked the dark forest surrounding Ashmoor.

Three days of pretending I didn’t feel the pull of him two floors down.

My wolf wasn’t helping.

He keeps the others away, she murmured. He gives you silence.

I hated how right she sounded. No chains. No guards. Just space. And silence. And that scent of cedar and smoke always lingering faintly in the hallway like he had been there, watching, but never stepping through.

On the fourth day, I cracked.

I found clothes in the wardrobe—black leggings, soft tunic, a pair of boots. Functional but clearly made for someone meant to be seen, not hidden. I pulled them on, tied my hair back, and stepped into the corridor.

Ashmoor was built like a fortress wrapped in a cathedral’s skin. High ceilings. Arched windows. Dark woods and silver lanterns. Everything screamed power and bloodline. And beneath all that, I could smell it—the faint musk of wolves in every corner.

I moved quietly, letting instinct guide me. My wolf didn’t protest. She was curious now, ears perked.

I found a library, larger than the one in my room. I found a war room—maps, blades, a table marked with claw-scratches. And I found a locked iron door with no scent on the other side.

That one made my skin crawl.

Voices echoed as I turned a corner—not loud, but firm. One male, one female.

"He’s already marked her in his mind," the woman said.

"Doesn’t mean she’ll accept it," the man replied. "She’s wild. Dangerous. That’s what the council is saying."

"Let them say it. He won’t care. You know how he is when something’s his."

I moved away before they could see me, heart pounding.

Wild. Dangerous. A liability.

That’s what they thought of me.

I made it back to the room before anyone noticed. Locked the door behind me. And sat on the bed with my knees to my chest, trying to breathe.

I wasn’t safe. Not really.

But I was being kept.

And I didn’t know what was worse.

---

Chapter 7: Blood Memory Taissa

The dream came like it always did. Red, broken, fire on the wind.

Only this time, there was more.

A figure in the trees. Watching as the pack burned. Not a hunter. A wolf.

Eyes like silver blades. A crown made of bone.

I woke up gasping.

My wolf was pacing inside me. Agitated.

You saw him, she said.

"Who?"

The one who led them.

"Not Dominic."

No. Older. Crueler.

I rubbed my arms, trying to shake the cold.

The past hadn’t left me. It had just buried itself deep until I was still enough to hear it.

I found Calista in the sunroom that afternoon. She was sketching something in a notebook, humming off-key.

"Can we talk?" I asked.

She looked up. Smiled. "Of course. What’s wrong?"

"My pack’s death... it wasn’t random."

Her smile faded. "I know. Dominic thinks it was orchestrated. There’s... talk of an uprising. Not from humans. From wolves."

That hit harder than I wanted.

"A rival pack?"

"Not exactly. Rogue alphas. Wolves who think the old ways were weakness."

"And they sent humans to do their dirty work?"

"Or used them."

She closed the sketchbook. "Dom thinks the leader of it—whoever he is—was connected to your bloodline. Maybe even an old rival of your father."

That made something click in my chest. A pressure point I didn’t know was there.

"He knew," I whispered. "Dominic. That’s why he came. Not just because of the bond. Because he already knew."

Calista looked away. Which meant I was right.

I left before she could lie to me.

---

Chapter 8: Teeth Behind Smiles Taissa

Dinner was a political circus dressed in velvet.

I hadn’t meant to attend, but when the door opened and Dominic was standing there in a crisp black suit, the scent of stormclouds and pine, my body moved before my mind could object.

"They want to meet you," he said.

"And you want to parade me."

"I want them to know you’re not prey."

We didn’t speak again until we entered the hall.

It was all eyes. Curious. Judging. Too many faces that smiled with their teeth.

Dominic sat me beside him at the head of the long oak table. His hand rested lightly on my back.

Support or claim—I didn’t know.

The food meant nothing. The wine barely cut the tension. Questions came laced with venom.

"Where did you come from, Taissa?"

"What was your bloodline again?"

"Did you actually train or just survive?"

I kept my answers short. My posture straight. I didn’t bare my teeth, but I didn’t bow my head either.

When one of the lesser alphas asked what Dominic saw in me, I smiled.

"Ask him. He hasn’t told me yet."

The table went silent.

Then Dominic laughed.

Not cruelly. Not mockingly. Just quiet, pleased.

Later, he walked me back to my room.

"You didn’t flinch," he said.

"Why would I?"

He stopped outside the door. Looked at me like I was something wild and dangerous and his.

"You keep proving them wrong."

I stared back. "I’m not doing it for them."

He leaned in close, voice low.

"Good. Do it for me."

Then he walked away.

And I hated how fast my heart was beating.

---

Chapter 9: The Fire Beneath Taissa

The bond snapped tight that night.

I couldn’t sleep. My skin itched with want, with heat, with something deeper than lust. It was need. It was the wolf clawing at the edge.

So I left my room.

I didn’t knock.

He was awake. Reading, shirt half unbuttoned, firelight carving shadows across his chest.

Our eyes met. Something inside me broke open.

"You feel it too," I said.

He nodded once. "Every second."

I stepped forward. "Then stop pretending."

He was on me in a breath.

The kiss wasn’t gentle. It was a crash. His hands in my hair. Mine fisting his shirt. Teeth. Tongue. Heat.

He backed me against the wall, mouth trailing down my neck. I tilted my head, baring it, daring him.

"Mark me," I breathed.

He growled low, a sound of hunger and restraint.

"Not yet. Not until you say it without the heat. Not until you want it."

He pulled back, chest heaving.

I was shaking.

"Then don’t walk away," I said.

He didn’t.

We didn’t sleep.

But we burned.

---

Chapter 10: The Storm Approaches Dominic & Taissa

The next morning, everything changed.

News came with blood on its breath.

Three neighboring packs slaughtered overnight. Symbols carved into their leaders’ chests. The same ones found outside Taissa’s old den.

We stood over the report together.

"He’s coming for me," she said.

"No," I said. "He’s coming for us."

She turned to me, eyes sharp. No fear. Just fury.

"Then we hunt first."

I looked at the woman who had once been caged. And saw the Queen I didn’t know I’d been waiting for.

The war was coming.

And we weren’t running anymore.