Confronting him
605 Words
chapter 7
Rowan pov
I don’t wait for him to leave the building.
I follow.
The moment the elevator doors slide shut behind him, the air shifts. Human noise dulls, like the world knows better than to listen. He stands alone in the hallway, hands folded behind his back, already smiling.
“You shouldn’t have come,” I say.
The elder turns slowly. Up close, his age is impossible to place. His eyes are too sharp. Too old. They glow faintly, not with power—but with certainty.
“And yet,” he replies calmly, “here I am.”
My wolf slams against my ribs, furious.
He smelled her.
He sensed her.
I step closer, letting my presence swell just enough for him to feel it. The walls tremble, glass humming softly in protest.
“You spoke to her,” I say, voice low. “That was a mistake.”
His smile widens. “You brought her into my sight the moment you bound yourself to her scent. Do not pretend innocence now.”
My jaw tightens.
“I have not claimed her.”
“You don’t need to,” he says. “The bond has already chosen.”
I grab him by the collar and slam him into the wall.
The impact cracks the marble.
Human security would be running by now. No one comes.
“Say her name again,” I growl, “and I will remind you why elders learned to fear kings.”
He doesn’t flinch. Not even when my claws scrape the stone beside his head.
“You are afraid,” he says softly.
The words land like a blade.
“I am cautious.”
“No,” he corrects. “You are attached.”
My wolf snarls.
Break him.
I loosen my grip—but only slightly.
“She is human,” I say. “She is not part of this.”
“She is the only part that matters,” the elder replies. “Your line is dying. The she-wolves cannot carry your heir. The elders have watched. We have waited.”
“You don’t get to decide this,” I say.
He studies me then, truly studies me. “You already have.”
I release him and step back, forcing control down my spine. Power recedes, but the rage doesn’t.
“You will stay away from her,” I warn.
“For now,” he agrees easily. “But bonds do not sleep forever, Alpha King. They ache. They demand.”
My wolf laughs, dark and pleased.
She is ours.
I silence it violently.
“If you harm her,” I say, every word carved in stone, “there will be no elders left to argue law.”
The elder inclines his head, almost respectful.
“You misunderstand,” he says. “We do not wish her harm. We wish her alive.”
He pauses at the door.
“And when she begins to feel the pull more strongly,” he adds, “when the guilt sets in, when she starts seeking you without knowing why—remember this.”
He looks at me over his shoulder.
“She will not break from the bond.”
The door closes.
I stand there long after he’s gone, the building slowly returning to its human rhythm around me.
My wolf paces, restless.
You can’t protect her from what she is.
“I can protect her from you,” I mutter.
But deep down, in the place kings don’t speak of—
I know.
Distance won’t save her.
Control won’t save me.
The bond has already begun to tighten.
- Writer
