Chapter 17: The Moon Demands a Price
1448 Words
The howls did not stop.
They multiplied.
From every corner of the territory, wolves lifted their heads to the sky, voices colliding into a single, restless chorus that made the air vibrate with unease. Torches burned brighter along the watch posts as guards took their positions, hands on weapons, eyes darting into the shadows beyond the borders.
Something was wrong.
Eliakim strode through the courtyard with long, urgent steps, his cloak snapping behind him in the wind. Pain still coiled in his chest, sharp and insistent, pulsing in time with the moon overhead.
This was no ordinary disturbance.
This was the bond.
Unrestrained.
Unforgiving.
“Summon the elders,” he ordered sharply. “Now.”
They did not question him. They never did when his voice carried that tone.
Within minutes, the council chamber filled with movement. Elder men and women took their places in a wide circle of stone seats, their expressions grave, eyes flicking between one another—and finally, to Eliakim.
The moonlight poured through the high windows, silver and merciless.
Elder Nahum spoke first, his voice low. “The moon is agitated.”
“That much is obvious,” Eliakim replied.
Nahum’s gaze sharpened. “Not agitated. Provoked.”
A murmur spread through the chamber.
Eliakim’s jaw tightened. He already knew what they were circling around. The words they were afraid—or eager—to say.
“The bond,” Elder Deborah said quietly. “It has been denied for too long.”
The room fell silent.
Eliakim straightened. “I have not denied it.”
Several elders exchanged looks.
“You have not accepted it either,” Nahum countered. “The moon does not recognize indecision.”
Before Eliakim could respond, the doors burst open.
A guard stumbled inside, breathless. “Alpha—she collapsed.”
Eliakim’s heart slammed violently against his ribs.
“Who?” he demanded, though the answer already clawed at him.
“Hadassah.”
The council erupted into chaos.
“She’s at the river path,” the guard continued. “She couldn’t stand. Her wolf—”
Eliakim was already moving.
Hadassah’s world had narrowed to pain.
It wrapped around her like chains—tight, suffocating, merciless. Every breath burned. Her vision swam, moonlight fracturing into shards as she struggled to remain conscious.
Her wolf whimpered, curled tightly inside her.
This isn’t right.
No, Hadassah thought weakly. It wasn’t.
She had survived rejection. Betrayal. The tearing of her first bond.
But this pain…
This was different.
This was the moon reaching inside her chest and squeezing.
Voices reached her dimly. Footsteps. Panic.
Then—him.
She felt him before she saw him.
Eliakim dropped to his knees beside her, the world tilting as his presence flooded her senses. His hands hovered uncertainly, as if afraid to touch her.
“Hadassah,” he said, her name rough, almost breaking.
She forced her eyes open.
Moonlight outlined his face—sharp, powerful, shaken. His control was cracking. She could feel it through the bond that refused to stay silent.
“You feel it too,” she whispered.
His jaw clenched. “Yes.”
“Then stop pretending,” she murmured, pain lacing every word. “The moon won’t.”
Her body convulsed as another wave hit her, harsher than before. Eliakim swore under his breath and finally pulled her into his arms.
The moment he did, the pain eased—just slightly.
Enough to steal her breath.
Enough to make the truth undeniable.
A hush fell over the gathering wolves.
They felt it too.
The bond flared—bright, violent, alive.
Elder Nahum arrived moments later, his face pale as he took in the scene. “Alpha,” he said heavily, “this is no longer private.”
Eliakim looked up slowly.
His eyes glowed silver.
“What are you saying?”
“The moon has issued its verdict,” Deborah said, her voice trembling. “If the bond continues to be resisted, it will break one of you beyond repair.”
Hadassah’s fingers tightened weakly in Eliakim’s cloak.
Break one of you.
She laughed softly, bitterly. “Seems fair,” she murmured. “I’ve already been broken once.”
Eliakim’s chest constricted painfully.
“No,” he said firmly. “Not again.”
He stood, lifting her effortlessly into his arms.
Gasps rippled through the pack.
“Eliakim,” Nahum warned, “publicly acknowledging her—”
“I am done hiding from the moon,” Eliakim snapped. “And from myself.”
He turned to the crowd.
“This she-wolf,” he said, voice carrying across the clearing, “is under my protection. Any harm that comes to her will be answered by me.”
Murmurs erupted.
Shock. Confusion. Outrage.
And from the back of the gathering—
Miriam smiled.
Miriam had never believed in patience.
While others panicked, she calculated.
While the pack watched the Alpha cradle the rejected she-wolf like something precious, Miriam saw opportunity slip—and adapted.
So she screamed.
“She’s manipulating him!” Miriam cried, pushing forward, tears glistening perfectly in her eyes. “She admitted it! She came here for revenge—against Abner, against all of us!”
The crowd stirred uneasily.
Abner stepped forward, face pale. “That’s not true,” he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
Miriam rounded on him. “Don’t protect her now!”
She turned back to the elders. “You all felt it. The bond is unstable because she is unstable. She broke one mate bond already!”
Hadassah stiffened in Eliakim’s arms.
The accusation struck deep.
Eliakim’s grip tightened protectively.
“That bond was broken by betrayal,” he growled. “Not by her.”
Miriam shook her head. “Then why does the moon rage every time she steps closer? Why does everything fall apart around her?”
Silence followed.
Dangerous silence.
The moon flared brighter.
And then—
Hadassah screamed.
The pain returned full force, ripping through her like fire. Eliakim staggered as the bond surged violently between them, knocking him back a step.
Elder Deborah cried out, clutching her chest. “The moon is forcing a decision!”
Nahum raised his staff, voice ringing with authority. “Enough!”
All eyes turned to him.
“The verdict will be given at the next full moon,” he declared. “If the Alpha claims the bond publicly, the moon will be appeased. If not—”
He looked directly at Hadassah.
“She will not survive the rejection.”
The words fell like a death sentence.
Hadassah went still.
Eliakim’s world narrowed to a single, horrifying truth.
The moon was no longer waiting.
It was counting down.
And as Eliakim met Hadassah’s eyes, filled with pain, defiance, and something dangerously close to hope, he realized the final cruelty of fate—
To save her, he would have to choose her.
In front of everyone.
Including the sister who was already planning his downfall.
The pack slowly dispersed, but the tension did not.
Whispers followed Hadassah wherever Eliakim carried her—some sharp with judgment, others heavy with fear. No one dared approach. The bond’s lingering pressure hung in the air like a storm that refused to break.
Eliakim brought her into his private chambers and laid her gently on the bed. The moment he released her, pain flickered again across her features, though she fought to hide it.
“Don’t,” she whispered hoarsely when he reached for her. “If you hesitate… it hurts more.”
His hand froze midair.
Hesitation.
That was the word the moon punished most.
Eliakim straightened slowly, every line of his body taut with conflict. He had ruled with certainty his entire life—never once bending to pressure, never allowing emotion to outweigh reason.
Yet now, the fate of a broken she-wolf lay tied to a choice he had sworn never to make blindly again.
“You don’t owe me anything,” Hadassah said softly, though her voice shook. “If saving me destroys your rule… then don’t.”
The bond flared in protest.
Eliakim laughed bitterly. “You still think this is only about you.”
He turned toward the window where the moon loomed impossibly close.
“It isn’t,” he continued quietly. “The moon doesn’t ask. It demands.”
Outside, a low tremor rippled through the ground—subtle, but unmistakable. The wolves of the pack lifted their heads once more, uneasy threading through their howls.
The moon was not finished.
And Eliakim knew—deep in his bones—that if he waited until the next full moon to decide…
The choice might be taken from him entirely.
- Writer
