Spellbound by the Alpha

Chapter 20: Heston

Heston

The words hung in the air like a brand.

So submissive for me.

And she didn’t deny it.

She didn’t run. She didn’t slap me. She didn’t hex me into a toad.

Cordella Blackwood—the witch who spat curses like poetry and kissed like she wanted to destroy me—broke for me. Whispered truths with trembling lips, her magic swirling around us not as a shield, but as a surrender.

And for the first time, I said it aloud.

To her.

She’s my mate.

I’d known. My wolf had known. From the second her scent hit me at the borderline—sweet, sharp, wild—it was like something ancient woke up inside me and said mine.

But saying it?

Letting the truth breathe?

It cracked something open in me.

And when she admitted she had nothing to do with the petition—that her mother acted on assumption, on fear—it was like all the rage melted away and left something hotter beneath it.

Need.

Feral, blistering, soul-deep need.

“Della,” I rasped, voice dark and shaking, “I want to f**k you.”

She didn’t hesitate. She rolled her hips into mine like she’d been waiting for it—like her body was done pretending.

And gods, I forgot everything.

The petition. The war. The fact that my crew was literally working outside her building right now.

But then she moaned—please—and my wolf snarled, pushing harder against the surface, claws just beneath my skin.

“Not here,” I growled, hips rocking against hers as I kissed the hollow of her throat, right where I wanted to mark her so badly it ached.

“My apartment—upstairs,” she gasped, hands clawing at my shoulders. “Please, Alpha. I’ll be good.”

Goddess.

I couldn’t stop if I wanted to.

And I didn’t want to.

“Show me.”

She grabbed my hand and tugged me behind the counter, through the back door, up the old wooden stairs.

Every step creaked, like it knew where we were going.

Her magic shimmered at the edges, unlocking the door before we reached it. She pushed it open and stepped inside, and I followed—ready to wreck her and lose myself in the process.

And then I stopped.

Just for a second.

Because it was so… her.

The apartment smelled like lavender and old books. Crystals sparkled in the windows, spell jars lined a cluttered shelf, and a soft sweater was draped over a reading chair that looked like it had held a hundred lazy mornings.

It was warm. Safe. Magic-laced.

And it made something in me tighten.

I liked her.

Not just her body. Not just her mouth.

Her.

And that terrified me almost as much as the thought of leaving.

But I didn’t say any of that.

I just stepped in, closed the door behind us, and turned to the witch who had ruined me.

“Take it off,” I said, voice low and raw. “The necklace. Now.”

She hesitated.

Of course she did.

Her fingers lifted to the chain, pausing just beneath her collarbone. The metal glinted in the low light, a soft silver charm laced with wolfsbane that had burned my skin and kept her magic closed off from mine.

It was a tether. A shield.

A curse.

Her green eyes met mine, searching—maybe for permission, maybe for courage. Maybe for a reason not to do it.

But I gave her none.

I didn’t blink. I didn’t breathe.

And then—slowly, deliberately—she took it off.

The clasp snapped. The chain slid between her fingers.

And the moment it hit the floor—

Everything changed.

The mate bond didn’t just snap into place—it exploded.

Like a tether pulled taut for too long, suddenly released. My wolf howled, surging to the surface so hard I stumbled back a step.

Fuck.

I’d been craving her for weeks, but this?

This was unbearable.

The scent of her, raw and unfiltered, wrapped around me like a vice. Her magic poured from her body like molten gold, brushing against my soul—welcoming me.

Inviting me.

Claiming me back.

Cordella gasped, stumbling, gripping the edge of the doorway behind her as if her knees might give out. Her power soared, blooming like a storm—wild, ancient, gorgeous. It flared across the room, brushing every surface, touching me in a way that made my body tense and my c**k ache.

“f**k,” I hissed, staggering forward, my eyes blazing gold. “You feel that?”

She nodded, breathless, wide-eyed and glowing from within.

“I warned you,” I growled, stalking toward her. “I told you what would happen.”

“I didn’t know it would feel like this,” she whispered.

I stopped in front of her, hands bracing the wall beside her head, caging her in without even touching her.

“It gets worse,” I said, voice low and rough, barely holding back the snarl. “You thought I was bad before, witch?”

My nose skimmed her throat. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

My mouth dragged down to that perfect spot where her neck met her shoulder. No necklace. No barrier. Just skin and fate and the mate bond burning between us like wildfire.

Her magic shivered over my skin—welcoming me. Not just allowing it, but craving it.

And my wolf?

He was clawing at my chest.

Mine. Mate. Mark her. Now.

I had to fight him back with every breath.

Because she deserved more than instinct.

But goddess, I was so close to losing control.

And she?

She was glowing. Not metaphorically. Not figuratively.

Literally.

Magic shimmered over her skin like sunlight on water—brilliant, wild, mine. Her power wrapped around me like a living thing, coaxing and claiming and welcoming my wolf.

And I couldn’t hold back anymore.

I reached for her, finally, truly—and she let me. No more necklace. No more wards. No more lies.

Just us.

I backed her slowly toward the bed, my hands dragging along her hips, her waist, her ribs like I had all the time in the world—but inside?

I was starving.

My wolf had never been so close to the surface, howling in my chest, claws under my skin. He knew. She was ours. Claimed by the bond the moment her necklace hit the floor.

And now?

He needed her. I needed her.

My c**k throbbed painfully against my zipper, so hard it hurt, and then—f**k—I felt it.

That shift.

That ancient, primal pull I’d only heard about in stories.

The base of my c**k swelled—my knot—something that had never once flared to life, not even with all the women before her. Because it was reserved. Biological. Evolutionary.

For a mate.

Only for her.

I groaned, voice guttural. “You feel what you’ve done to me?”

Cordella, panting, eyes wide and glazed, could only nod. Her fingers clenched around my shirt like she might float away if she let go.

“I warned you,” I growled, lowering her gently onto the bed. “You take that necklace off, and I’m not stopping.”

She didn’t ask me to.

She just opened her legs and whispered, “Then don’t.”

I fell on her like a man possessed.

I dragged her pants down, kissed every inch of skin I uncovered. Her thighs were soft, perfect, and mine—and I bit them. Not hard. Not enough to break skin.

But enough to soothe the bond. To give my wolf something.

He still wanted more.

I marked her thighs with my mouth, filthy, possessive kisses over skin that trembled beneath me. I could smell how wet she was, how ready.

“You’re mine,” I snarled against her skin. “You were always mine. Even when you fought it. Even when you lied. Your magic knew. Your body knows.”

She gasped as my tongue found her core, and I groaned—tasting her, scenting her, owning her in the oldest way our kind knew.

But the bond? It wasn’t soothed.

It was enraged.

It surged through me, screaming to claim, to fill, to knot and stay.

I wanted to soothe it, mark her in every way—but I also wanted to see her come apart. Again. And again. Until her magic painted the walls and her voice broke screaming my name.

I wanted her wrecked.

And I was just getting started.