Spellbound by the Alpha

Chapter 3: Cordella

Cordella

Piper lined up her next shot, tongue poking out in concentration, while I sipped my drink and tried not to think about the Alpha burning holes into the back of my skull.

“Don’t look now,” she murmured, leaning down, “but Heston Blue keeps glaring at you like he can’t decide if he wants to fight you or f**k you.”

I snorted, loud and unapologetic, just as the eight ball kissed the corner pocket. “Sounds like a personal problem.”

“Could be your problem,” she teased.

“Wolves don’t mix with witches,” I said, brushing hair off my shoulder as I stood upright. “That rule’s been around longer than this bar.”

“And yet.” Piper grinned, spinning her cue like a staff. “Here you are, looking like sin and freedom wrapped in a linen skirt.”

I rolled my eyes but smiled. She wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t trying to impress anyone, but there was power in looking the part. In being the kind of witch who didn’t flinch at the sight of an Alpha.

I didn’t have a personal issue with wolves. But the legacy ran deep. My mother raised me on stories of broken treaties, bloodshed, and betrayal. The Blue Ridge pack built their empire on land that should’ve been ours. And maybe I didn’t carry her hate but I understood it.

Still, the Borderline existed for a reason. It was where we came when we wanted to pretend the rules didn’t matter. To flirt with danger.

And speaking of flirting...

Piper’s gaze had just landed on some warlock-adjacent guy across the bar. Her smile turned sharp.

“I see you,” I said.

“Don’t wait up,” she sang back, already stalking her prey.

I took the opportunity to abandon my cue and wander toward the bar. I wasn’t looking for anything—or anyone. But I was thirsty, and if the Alpha wanted to keep staring, I figured I might as well give him something to look at.

I slid into a space at the bar—not close enough to be obvious, but close enough to catch his scent. Woodsmoke and something darker. Not unpleasant. Just… intrusive.

“Tequila soda, please,” I told the bartender, tucking a loose braid behind my ear.

The Alpha didn’t say anything, but I felt him. Staring. Heavy and heated, like a full moon pressing down on my chest.

I turned, met his gaze, and smiled. Sharp. Sweet. Pure venom wrapped in silk.

“Are those f**k-me eyes?” I asked casually. “Because I’m not interested.”

His pack, three men, all power and shoulders, howled. One of them actually slapped the bar. Another muttered, “Goddess, she’s got teeth.”

I kept my gaze on the Alpha.

Heston Blue didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. Just stared like I was an unsolvable riddle that had personally offended him.

“I wasn’t looking at you,” he said coolly.

I arched a brow. “Then I suggest a different face. Yours is sending mixed signals.”

His eyes narrowed. “Your necklace stinks.”

I reached up and touched the small glass vial nestled between my collarbones, filled with wolfsbane and laced in silver thread.

“Good,” I said. “Means it’s working.”

He leaned in just slightly, voice lower now. “You shouldn’t be here.”

I took my drink from the bartender, turned fully toward him, and smiled wider. “Neither should you. But here we are.”

We stood like that for a moment, him glowering, me glowing. A witch and a wolf, toeing a line that hadn’t been crossed in generations.

And maybe I should’ve walked away.

But his scent still clung to me like smoke.

And I? I was feeling reckless.

I sipped my tequila soda slowly, letting the bite of it settle on my tongue like the words I was about to toss in his face.

“Don’t you have a pack to run?” I asked sweetly. “Or a historical building to ruin?”

His jaw ticked, just slightly. Bingo.

That was the thing about Blue Co. They didn’t care if a building had history or if it had stood through wars, sheltered generations, been blessed under a hundred moons. If it didn’t fit their skyline dream, they tore it down and sold it to the highest bidder.

Humans loved it. Witches didn’t.

Especially not the witches who remembered.

“You know,” I continued, swirling the ice in my glass, “there’s a word for people who build empires on sacred land while pretending legacy doesn’t matter.”

“Visionary?” one of his brothers offered, grinning.

I didn’t look away from Heston. “Colonizer.”

That wiped the smirk off the other guy’s face.

Heston stared at me like I’d just challenged him to a duel. Maybe I had. His energy shifted, crackling like the moment before a thunderstorm.

His wolf was close to the surface. I could feel it, pressing at the edges of him, demanding something. A reaction. A response. A claim.

But I didn’t back down. I met it with magic humming in my blood and steel behind my spine.

“You really want to poke at me, little witch?” he asked, voice low and rough.

“Not poking,” I said, tilting my head, eyes gleaming. “Just curious how you live with yourself. Ruining legacies by day, brooding by night. Is that fulfilling?”

He took a slow step closer. Not touching. Not yet. But close enough that I could feel the heat radiating off him.

“You think you know me,” he said.

“No,” I said, lifting my chin. “But I know your type.”

I didn’t tell him that my pulse had quickened. Or that my fingers itched. Not with fear, but with magic, with want, with warning. I didn’t tell him that something about him felt dangerous in a way that wasn’t entirely bad.

He leaned in, just a breath away now, his voice a murmur against my cheek.

“Be careful, Cordella Blackwood.”

And just like that, I smiled.

“Why?” I asked. “Scared of a little witch?”

His eyes darkened.

The moment my power surged, it was barely a whisper, a flicker beneath my skin, a pulse in the air.

But it was enough.

The glass in front of him cracked, spiderwebbing in a blink before it shattered, sending ice and amber liquid spilling across the bar top.

I didn’t even flinch. Just blinked up at him and offered a saccharine smile.

“Whoops.”

His pack fell silent. Even the bartender paused, probably deciding if this was above his pay grade.

I turned, skirt swaying, and brushed past him like we hadn’t just lit the entire atmosphere on fire.

His scent clung to me again like cedar and smoke and some barely leashed instinct I couldn’t name. It shouldn’t have been intoxicating.

But it was.

And then he grabbed me.

Not hard. Not painful. Just… firm. Commanding. Careful.

“Don’t play with me, witch,” he growled, his voice a low vibration against my spine.

I turned slowly, letting the movement drag out, then tilted my head, eyes locked on his. “Why? Can’t handle the heat?”

We were nearly chest to chest now, the space between us charged with something feral and stupid and hot. His hand still wrapped around my wrist. My pulse didn’t flutter. It pounded.

This close, I could see the gold ring of his wolf around his pupils, could feel the restraint vibrating through his entire frame.

And I wanted to push it. Just to see what he’d do.

But then...

“Okayyyy,” Piper sing-songed as she practically slid between us like a human wedge, her smile tight and her eyes screaming abort mission. “I get it. Witches, wolves, forbidden enemies. Blah blah tension. But Della is just kidding, right?”

I raised a brow, slowly dragging my gaze back to Heston. “Am I?” I asked. “Or am I just better at the game than he is?”

Piper snorted, then turned to me with mock horror. “Bitch.” She rolled her eyes and looped her arm through mine. “Come on. Let’s dance before your mother astral-projects in here and banishes you.”

I let her pull me away, pulse still hammering, magic still tingling just beneath my skin. I didn’t look back.

Even though I felt him watching.

Even though I’d never had a surge like that before. Not that strong. Not that fast.

I stayed in control.

Barely.

Heightened emotion could trigger accidental bursts. Every witch knew that. But I wasn’t just emotional. I was… burning.

The music shifted as Piper led us to the makeshift dance floor. The space was tight, the lights low, the bass deep in my ribs. I let it carry me, moving to the beat as if I wasn’t still buzzing with the heat of his touch.

I shook it off.

Or at least, I tried.

But somewhere behind me, I knew the Alpha was still there. Watching. Waiting. Fighting whatever that thing was crackling between us.

And goddess help me, I was already wondering what it would take to make him crack.