Chapter 19: Cordella
1456 Words
Cordella’s POV
My mother didn’t just file the petition—oh no.
She plastered it across the university.
Printed flyers. Digital banners. Announcements in the morning spell scroll.
“Protect our history. Defend our sacred spaces. Stop the wolves from gutting our roots.”
And sure—part of me was warmed. Students were talking about it. Witches, humans, even a few curious shifters. They didn’t want the district torn apart. They didn’t want my shop gone.
But it wasn’t gone.
Blue Co. wasn’t destroying it—they were restoring it.
And the Alpha responsible? The one my mother was so hellbent on stopping?
He was currently in my shop, in my space, with his eyes glowing like molten gold and his voice echoing in my bones.
I’d avoided Heston like the literal plague this past week. I’d warded the door against him. Changed my hours. Ignored the way my magic sparked just thinking about him.
Because how do you tell the Alpha who bent you over his desk and made you moan his title that your mother is trying to destroy his company?
You don’t. You avoid.
Or at least, that’s what I was trying to do.
Before he stormed in, slammed the door like a gavel, and cut into me with that sharp voice—just to call me his mate.
Mate.
Goddess.
I knew wolves had mates. Knew that kind of bond was rare. Sacred.
But I also knew most Alphas chose for legacy. For bloodline. Power. Status.
Heston Blue was pureblood.
CEO. Alpha. Legacy.
He’d never be mated to me. He had to be f*****g with me.
Still, my magic whirled around us, untamed, fed by his presence. Surging and sharp and too close to something that felt like truth.
And instead of explaining—instead of telling him the truth, that I had nothing to do with the petition—I cut into him.
Because that was comfortable.
That was safe.
So I rolled my eyes, crossed my arms, and let the poison fly.
“Oh great. You’ve lost your mind,” I snapped. “Is that why you’ve been stalking me? Because your wolfy thinks I’m his?”
Wrong thing to say. So wrong.
Heston’s eyes flared gold—full Alpha. Full beast.
The growl that tore from his throat was low and feral, like it had clawed its way out from somewhere deep inside him.
He took a step toward me. I took an instinctive one back.
But I didn’t run.
Because I couldn’t.
Because I was rooted, body trembling, lips parted, power pulsing like a second heartbeat in my veins.
“Say that again,” he said, voice so low it was almost a threat. “I f*****g dare you.”
And the worst part?
My necklace—the one my mother enchanted with wolfsbane to keep wolves at bay—was burning against my chest like a brand.
And I wasn’t sure if it was trying to protect me…
Or trying to hold me back.
The second the words left his mouth—I dare you—my magic trembled.
Not just flickering or sparking.
It trembled.
Like a living thing caught between two instincts: fight, or fall to its knees.
The air shifted. The wards around the shop shimmered like heat waves. I felt the energy lurch through the room—and then lock. The door behind him slammed shut on its own. The windows frosted at the edges.
And the sign flipped to CLOSED.
Not because I told it to. Not because I cast anything consciously.
But because my magic did it for me.
Like it knew. Like it chose.
My heart slammed into my ribs.
And Heston?
Heston smirked.
He stepped forward, slow and sure, until his boots nearly touched mine and I had nowhere left to go. The counter was at my back, the Alpha at my front, and the air between us was boiling.
“Even your magic knows,” he murmured, voice deep and rough and dangerous, “who you belong to.”
I swallowed hard. “I don’t belong to anyone.”
He tilted his head, wolf eyes burning straight through me. “Keep telling yourself that, sweetheart.”
I tried to speak. Tried to move.
But he leaned in, mouth brushing the shell of my ear, breath hot enough to melt bone.
“You think I don’t feel it?” he whispered. “The way you shake when I walk into a room. The way your scent changes when you’re pissed at me—and how f*****g wet you get when you want me to ruin you.”
My knees nearly buckled.
He didn’t stop.
“You clench when I growl. You throb when I look at you. And when I had my mouth on you? You didn’t just beg me. You broke for me.”
His hand hovered near my hip. Not touching.
Just hovering—like he didn’t have to lay a finger on me to wreck me.
“You think this little magic trick”—he gestured to the door locking itself—“makes me want you less?”
His voice dropped to a growl, lips grazing my cheek.
“It makes me want to mark you. Claim you. Make you mine in every way a wolf can.”
I gasped, but it was swallowed by the sharp inhale I couldn’t hold back.
He chuckled darkly, hearing it. Sensing it.
“You’re scared,” he said, and it wasn’t a question.
“I’m not—”
“You are. And you should be,” he snarled, his voice curling into something filthy and full of teeth. “Because I’m not gentle, Della. I’m not patient. I’m not the kind of man you f**k in secret and walk away from.”
His hand finally touched my waist, hot and possessive and so gentle it made me ache.
“I’m the kind that sinks his teeth into your neck and makes sure every witch in that coven smells me on you.”
My magic flared so violently the candles on the shelf exploded.
And still—I didn’t move.
Because I was terrified. And turned on.
And trapped in the middle of a storm I was starting to want.
I should’ve pushed him away.
Should’ve thrown up a ward, screamed, hexed him into next week—something.
But instead, I stood there trembling as his fingers brushed the chain around my neck. His thumb toyed with the pendant. The enchanted one laced with wolfsbane, the one that burned him every time he touched it.
Except now?
He didn’t flinch.
He was enjoying it.
“You wear this like it’s going to save you,” he murmured, his voice thick with heat and warning.
Then he leaned in and dragged his teeth across my skin—right to the spot where my neck met my shoulder.
And dammit—
I moaned.
Soft. Unbidden. Real.
I felt the smirk against my skin the second it happened.
“Right here,” he whispered. “This is where I’d claim you, Della.”
My hands found his shirt, gripping it like a lifeline.
I hated myself for it.
Hated the way I couldn’t stop shaking, how I pulled him closer when he growled, how I arched when his fingers dug into my hip hard enough to bruise.
“Did you run to Mommy because you were scared?” he asked, voice low, taunting. “Tell me.”
He pressed his hips forward—and f**k, I felt all of him. Hard. Hot. Perfectly placed.
“Tell your Alpha.”
That shouldn’t have been hot. It shouldn’t have done anything to me.
But I broke with a whimper, hips rocking against his like I was possessed.
Like I was a desperate witch with no control and no pride and no defense left.
“Your body knows,” he rasped, breath harsh against my cheek. “So tell me.”
I clenched my eyes shut. He nipped at that same spot again—just enough to sting, to tease, to promise.
And it shattered what little resolve I had left.
“I didn’t…” I gasped. “She thought you stole my shop. It wasn’t—it wasn’t me.”
His growl was low. Triumphant. Dangerous.
“Good little witch,” he purred. “So submissive for me.”
My magic pulsed around us again, not in anger—but surrender.
I should’ve hated it. But the way my thighs clenched, the way my pulse beat under his lips, the way my hands held him there—
I didn’t hate it at all.
And that terrified me more than anything else.
- Writer
