Chapter 4: When the Bond Awakens
1384 Words
Hadassah woke to pain.
Not the familiar, dull ache she had learned to live with—but something sharp, sudden, and alive. It bloomed in her chest like fire spreading through dry grass, stealing the air from her lungs.
She gasped, fingers clutching the sheets.
The room spun.
Her wolf surged violently, howling in alarm.
Mate.
“No,” Hadassah whispered, shaking her head. “No, no—”
The bond pulsed again, stronger this time. Heat flooded her veins, curling low in her stomach, racing along her spine. It wasn’t rejection pain. It wasn’t grief.
It was awakening.
She rolled out of bed, barely managing to stay upright as her knees threatened to buckle. Her senses sharpened painfully—every sound too loud, every scent too strong.
And one scent dominated everything.
Pine. Smoke. Power.
Eliakim.
Her breath hitched.
Danger, her wolf warned, frantic now. This is wrong. He is not—
But the bond didn’t care about logic.
It demanded.
Hadassah staggered toward the door before she could stop herself.
Across the Alpha’s house, Eliakim froze mid-step.
The reaction slammed into him like a physical blow.
His wolf roared awake, claws scraping violently against his control.
MATE.
Eliakim sucked in a sharp breath, bracing a hand against the stone wall as heat surged through him, fierce and unrelenting. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, instincts screaming at him to move—now, immediately.
This wasn’t a gentle pull.
It was a command.
“No,” he growled under his breath. “Not now.”
The bond pulsed again, harder, dragging his attention toward one specific direction. Toward her.
His chest tightened painfully.
This was impossible.
She already had a mate. A broken bond did not simply… reattach. Fate did not make mistakes like this.
And yet—
She’s calling, his wolf snarled. She doesn’t know it—but she is.
Eliakim straightened, jaw clenched.
If he didn’t act, he would lose control.
And an Alpha losing control was dangerous for everyone.
Hadassah barely remembered walking.
Her feet carried her through the corridors as if guided by something older than thought. The world narrowed to heat and need and the relentless pulse in her chest.
She stopped abruptly when she realized where she was.
The Alpha’s door.
Her heart hammered violently.
“This is a mistake,” she whispered.
Her hand lifted anyway.
Before she could knock, the door opened.
Eliakim stood there, eyes glowing faintly silver in the dim light.
The bond snapped tight between them.
Hadassah gasped.
The world tilted violently as sensation crashed over her—raw, overwhelming, intimate. His presence filled her senses completely, drowning out everything else.
He inhaled sharply.
“Hadassah,” he said hoarsely. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Her throat worked. “I—I don’t know why I came.”
That was a lie.
They both knew it.
The bond surged again, sending a shudder through her body. She swayed, instinctively reaching for the nearest anchor.
Eliakim caught her before she could fall.
The moment he touched her—
Everything exploded.
Heat. Power. Desire. Recognition.
Hadassah cried out softly as the bond roared to life, brighter and stronger than anything she had ever felt before. It wrapped around her heart, her soul, binding her to him with terrifying certainty.
His arms tightened around her instinctively.
For a split second, Eliakim let himself feel it.
The rightness.
The fit.
The overwhelming knowledge that she belonged against him.
Then reality crashed back in.
He released her abruptly, stepping back as if burned.
“No,” he said harshly. “This cannot happen.”
Hadassah stared at him, breath ragged, eyes dark and luminous.
“You feel it too,” she whispered.
“Yes,” Eliakim admitted, jaw clenched. “And that’s the problem.”
The bond did not loosen when he released her.
If anything, it tightened—an invisible chain pulled taut between their chests. Hadassah swayed slightly, bracing herself against the doorframe as another wave of sensation rolled through her.
Her wolf whimpered, overwhelmed.
This isn’t rejection, it whispered in disbelief. This is recognition.
Hadassah squeezed her eyes shut.
“This shouldn’t be happening,” she said, more to herself than to him. “I already had a mate. The bond doesn’t—can’t—choose again.”
Eliakim’s breathing was uneven now, control visibly slipping despite his rigid posture. “The bond doesn’t care about what should or shouldn’t be,” he said tightly. “It answers only to fate.”
“That’s not an answer,” she snapped.
“No,” he agreed. “It’s a curse.”
The word hung between them.
Hadassah opened her eyes slowly. “You sound like someone who has been burned by fate before.”
His jaw flexed. “You know nothing about me.”
“I know pain when I hear it.”
Silence followed.
Then, unexpectedly, Eliakim spoke. “My mate left.”
Hadassah froze.
“She chose ambition over bond,” he continued, voice low and controlled. “Over pack. Over me. And when she walked away, she took something with her that never returned.”
Something softened in Hadassah’s expression.
“So you learned to live without it,” she said quietly.
“Yes.”
“Then why does this scare you so much?” she asked.
His gaze snapped to hers, silver flaring dangerously. “Because I know exactly what it costs to lose it again.”
The honesty stole her breath.
Her wolf stirred, gentler now, aching with understanding rather than fury.
He is broken too, it murmured.
The bond pulsed—slow, insistent—binding two fractured souls who had never asked to be chosen again.
Hadassah swallowed hard.
“I won’t beg you,” she said. “And I won’t force this.”
Eliakim watched her closely, as if searching for deception and finding none.
“That,” he said quietly, “might be the most dangerous thing about you.”
She laughed softly, a broken sound. “You don’t want a damaged Luna, Alpha?”
The words cut deeper than she intended.
Eliakim’s eyes flashed dangerously. “Do not twist this.”
“Then explain it,” she challenged. “Explain why my bond—broken, shattered—reacts to you like this.”
“I don’t know,” he snapped. “And I won’t pretend this is destiny when it could destroy both of us.”
Hadassah stepped closer.
“Too late,” she said quietly. “It already is.”
Her scent spiked—defiance layered over something far more dangerous.
Hope.
Eliakim’s wolf snarled violently.
Claim her.
“No,” Eliakim growled under his breath, more to himself than to her.
Hadassah reached for him again.
This time, he didn’t stop her immediately.
Her fingers brushed his wrist.
The bond flared brutally.
Eliakim hissed through his teeth, muscles locking as instinct screamed at him to pull her closer, to mark her, to end the torment.
Hadassah felt it too—his restraint, strained and cracking.
“You’re afraid,” she murmured.
“Yes,” he said without hesitation.
“Of me?”
“No.” His gaze burned into hers. “Of what I would become if I give in.”
The honesty stunned her.
Slowly, carefully, she withdrew her hand.
“I didn’t come here for this,” she said softly. “I came for strength. Control.”
“So did I,” Eliakim replied.
Silence stretched between them, thick with unsaid truths.
Finally, Eliakim turned away.
“Go back to your room,” he ordered, voice rough. “Now.”
Hadassah hesitated.
“If I stay—”
“You’ll break what little control I have left,” he said bluntly.
She nodded once.
As she turned to leave, the bond pulled painfully, protesting the separation.
At the doorway, she paused.
“Alpha,” she said quietly.
“Yes?”
“If this bond is real…”
His shoulders stiffened.
“…then fate has already chosen sides.”
She left.
Eliakim stood alone long after the door closed, chest heaving, fists clenched so tightly his palms bled.
Because deep down—
He knew.
This bond was not a mistake.
And next time, he might not be strong enough to resist it.
- Writer
