Chapter Four: The Bond I Buried
1198 Words
(Ryder’s POV)
I felt her before I saw her.
It started as a pull in my chest — sharp, electric, impossible to ignore. My entire body tensed like it knew something the rest of me hadn’t caught up to yet.
And then I turned.
There she was.
Marshal.
Staggering, stiff, wrapped in makeshift bandages and too much silence. She looked like pain made human. Her hair was tangled. Her eyes were hollow.
And still, she looked like fire.
My fire.
The bond slammed into place like lightning to bone — and I knew what that feeling was.
Because I’d felt it months ago.
I’d known. Since my 18th birthday. Since the Moon Goddess whispered her name through every nerve in my body. Since I felt the pull that led me straight to her and chose silence anyway.
She stopped when she saw me.
Eyes wide.
Breath sharp.
I could feel it happening to her now — the bond locking in, soul to soul.
Her expression cracked open, disbelief giving way to rage. And gods, it hurt. It hurt worse than any training injury or broken rib I'd ever had. Because she looked at me like I was the enemy.
And I was.
She whispered, “No.”
And I swear, I stopped breathing.
I took a step forward.
“Marshal—”
She flinched back like my voice was poison.
“You stood there,” she said. “You watched.”
Her words hit harder than the truth I’d been avoiding for months.
Because yes. I did watch.
I watched as the guards chained her in the dirt. I watched as my father sentenced her like she was nothing. I watched her scream — and I did nothing.
I was too scared.
Too obedient.
Too pathetic.
I wanted to speak. I wanted to tell her that I knew. That I didn’t want this to be our story. That I’d tried to stay away to protect her — from my father, from the weight of being mated to a monster in training.
But she wasn’t listening.
She turned away, the bond between us stretching so tight I thought it might snap.
“Don’t go,” I said.
She froze.
Then looked back over her shoulder and said, with all the venom I deserved:
“I would’ve rather died than ever be yours.”
And then she left.
And I let her.
Because that’s what I do.
I let her suffer.
I let her bleed.
I let her go.
Because I never deserved her in the first place.
The pain was dull, but it burned from the inside out — like something vital had been ripped from my chest and thrown into the dirt.
Brody, my wolf, was pacing inside me, raw and restless.
> “I f*****g told you to do something. And now look where we are.”
He wasn’t wrong. I was a coward.
I watched her walk away — again.
And I didn’t stop her.
“I thought staying quiet would protect her,” I muttered.
> “You thought wrong.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, jaw clenched. The bond hadn’t broken yet. I could still feel her — distant, furious, alive.
“She hasn’t rejected us,” I said out loud, like saying it would make it true for a little longer.
Brody growled.
> “Not yet. But she will. You saw the look in her eyes. That wasn’t confusion. That was betrayal.”
I swallowed hard. My chest felt hollow. She was supposed to be mine. Even after everything, even after the silence, some part of me believed the bond would fix it all — that it would erase the damage my father and I helped carve into her.
It didn’t.
“Did you feel her wolf?” I asked, needing something to hold on to.
> “Yeah,” Brody said, quieter now. “She’s just like her. Fierce. Loud. Unforgiving.”
That made me pause. I should’ve felt afraid — but instead, I felt... smaller. Like I didn’t deserve to even stand near them.
Still, I wasn’t giving up.
“Tonight,” I said, already forming a plan. “We’ll sneak into her room. Talk things out. Make her understand.”
> “You think words will fix this?”
“I have to try.”
> “Then you’d better be ready to bleed for it.”
I nodded once, jaw set. “I already am.”
~~~~~~~
Night wrapped the packhouse in silence.
Even the wind was still.
I moved like a shadow — quiet, controlled. I knew this place better than anyone. Knew which steps creaked, which floorboards gave me away. I’d snuck out to train, to hunt, even to escape the weight of my father’s voice.
But never like this.
Never to chase someone who hated me.
Marshal’s room was tucked away near the west wing, where the servants stayed. Hers was at the end of the hall, furthest from warmth, from windows. Of course they stuck her there.
I reached the door and froze.
Brody stirred in the back of my mind, tense.
> “She’ll hear your heartbeat if you’re not careful.”
I pressed a palm to the wall to steady myself.
Then knocked — soft, barely there.
Nothing.
I knocked again.
Still nothing.
That tether between us pulled tight, humming beneath my skin. It wasn’t warm. It wasn’t tender.
It ached.
I pushed open her door and felt it before I saw it.
Empty.
No heartbeat. No presence. Just the faint trace of her scent — already fading.
Marshal was gone.
My chest seized.
Brody surged forward in my mind, snarling.
> “She’s running. We’re losing her.”
I stepped inside, scanning fast. The bed was stripped. A drawer half-open, contents missing. A single thread of red hair caught in the wood.
“She tried to cover her scent,” I said aloud.
> “Tried being the key word.”
He was right. It was faint — masked with sage, damp cloth, smoke — but the mate bond was stronger than any trick. I could still feel her, like a whisper pressed into my bones.
I bolted.
Down the hall, out the back, past the eastern fence where patrols were light. My wolf strained beneath my skin, ready to shift, to run, to chase.
She was smart. Too smart. She knew the weak spots. Knew when the guards rotated, when the gate creaked.
She’d planned this.
She was already miles ahead.
But she didn’t count on me feeling everything.
My feet hit the edge of the forest, and that’s when I caught it — a sudden flare of her scent, half-buried under moss and moonlight.
> “There,” Brody growled. “She’s not even trying anymore. She wants to be found.”
“No,” I said under my breath. “She wants to disappear.”
> “Same thing. For someone who swore she didn’t want us? She sure left a trail.”
I didn’t answer.
I couldn’t.
Because part of me — the part that still dreamed of what we could’ve been — hoped he was right.
- Writer
