Spellbound by the Alpha

Chapter 9: Heston

Heston

The forest blurred around me in streaks of shadow and green.

Running helped. Usually. When the pressure built too high, when pack meetings and Luna talk and my mother’s plans started to feel like a noose, I ran.

Tonight, I ran deeper than usual. Farther from the lodge. Farther from logic. I let the shift come hard and fast, bones snapping, skin tearing, and then I was on four paws, breath sharp in my chest, paws pounding the forest floor.

My wolf was restless. Agitated. We both needed this.

But then it happened.

A surge.

No scent., no sound. Just a pulse—like the magic of the earth itself rippled through the world. And everything inside me snapped.

My wolf surged to the surface—not just in control, but dominant. I tried to wrestle him back down, but he shoved me aside like I was nothing.

I growled. In my own damn head.

What the hell is this?

But he didn’t answer. He ran harder. Wild. Possessed. Driven. He didn’t stop until the trees thinned, the air thickened with boundary magic, and we slammed into the invisible wall that marked the edge of their land.

The coven’s territory.

I whined, deep and guttural, head lowered.

We weren’t allowed to cross. Wolves could walk the neutral zones. We could enter the historical district with permission. But the old coven land, deep in the woods? Wardstone protected. Generationally sealed. No wolf could pass.

We weren’t just not welcome. We were kept out.

My wolf paced the line, chest heaving, eyes burning. And then, after what felt like forever, he finally relented.

I shifted back, skin prickling as fur gave way to flesh, muscles tightening as the forest pressed in.

Naked, cold, and pissed.

“What the f**k was that,” I muttered, shoving a hand through my hair.

No answer. Of course not. My wolf was silent now. Too damn satisfied with whatever that was. I stood there, alone, one foot in legacy and one in madness, and reached for my phone.

Max is never letting this go. I sighed, hit his contact, and listened to the line ring.

The phone rang twice before Max picked up, his voice groggy but amused. “You’re calling me at one in the morning. Either someone died, or you finally got laid.”

I sighed through my nose. “Neither.”

A pause. “Where are you?”

I hesitated. Then, flatly, “Coven border.”

There was silence.

Then laughter. Loud, wheezing, full-body laughter.

I hung up.

A few minutes later, headlights cut through the trees, and Max’s truck rolled to a stop along the old trail road. The window slid down as he grinned at me like the asshole he was.

He tossed a pair of gym shorts out the window.

“Put those on before some spirit guide files a complaint.”

I yanked them on without comment and climbed into the passenger seat, the leather cold against my skin. Max didn’t speak at first, just cranked the heat and drove in silence for a few miles.

“So, the border, huh?”

I said nothing.

He smirked. “You sure you’re not gonna shift again and try to hump the welcome wards?”

I turned my head slowly. “I could end you.”

“Yeah, but then who would bring you pants when you wake up naked in the woods?”

I flipped him off without heat, leaning back in the seat and letting the silence settle again.

Max didn’t push. Not right away. But when we hit the edge of the pack’s land, his voice dropped.

“It’s only going to get worse.”

I stared out the window, jaw tight. “She’s not my mate.”

The words had barely left my mouth when my wolf snapped.

A low, guttural mine rumbled in my chest, so deep I felt it in my bones.

Max looked over, his expression unreadable. “Okay, Alpha.”

And f**k him, I hated how calm he sounded when he said it. Like he already knew the truth I kept denying. Like he could see through every wall I’d built and every excuse I clung to.

“I have dinner with Elise tomorrow.”

He nodded once. “Sure.”

And that one word, flat, dry, full of unspoken ‘yeah, right’, pissed me off more than anything else that night.

I didn’t reply. Just stared straight ahead, trying not to think about Cordella Blackwood. Or about her fire. About the way her magic had pulsed through the air like a heartbeat and dragged my wolf to the surface.

Trying and failing not to remember how it felt when she glared at me like she could burn the world down and I’d still crawl back for more.

Because I had dinner with Elise. The quote on quote perfect Luna. I should be focusing on that, and instead I'm running rabid to the witches' border. I sigh, rolling my head on the seat while my wolf snarls at the thought of another woman. Perfect she-wolf or not.