Blood Bound To My Enemy

CHAPTER TWO

💐 CHAPTER TWO 💐

The single grey hair stood out like a death sentence against the black.

I gripped the bathroom sink until my knuckles went white, staring at my reflection in the mirror. Twenty-nine years old.

The curse had claimed my father at twenty-eight, my brother at twenty-six. I’d always assumed I had more time.

Apparently not.

“Alpha?”

Marcus’s voice came from my bedroom, followed by the shuffle of old Henrik’s feet. I didn’t need to see them to know they wore the same grim expressions they’d been carrying for weeks.

“What is it?” I called back, still studying that damned silver thread.

“We found something.”

The hope in my beta’s voice made me pause. Marcus didn’t do hope—hadn’t since we buried Connor two years ago. I splashed cold water on my face and walked into the bedroom where they waited.

Henrik clutched a leather tome that looked ready to crumble into dust. The old healer’s cloudy eyes held something I hadn’t seen in months: possibility.

“Well?” I crossed my arms, bracing for disappointment.

“A blood bond,” Henrik said without preamble. “With the witch’s daughter.”

The words hit me like a physical blow. “Excuse me?”

“The texts are clear.” Henrik opened the ancient book with reverent hands. “A curse born of witch’s blood may only be broken by witch’s blood, through the sacred bond of life essence shared.”

I stared at him, waiting for the punchline that never came. When the silence stretched too long, rage flooded my system.

“You want me to bond with that b***h’s spawn?” My voice dropped to a growl. “I’d rather die.”

“Your father said the same thing,” Henrik replied quietly. “So did Connor.”

“Don’t.” I stepped toward him, wolf instincts screaming. “Don’t you dare use their deaths to—”

“To what? Save your life?” Marcus moved between us, his beta training overriding his sense of self-preservation. “Because that’s what this is, Jaxon. Your only shot at living past next month.”

“I won’t dishonor their memory by crawling to our enemy for help.”

“What enemy?” Marcus threw his hands up. “She’s what, twenty-three? Twenty-four? She was a child when her mother cast the curse. She probably doesn’t even know what she is.”

“Her mother’s blood runs in her veins.”

“And your father’s blood runs in yours. Does that make you responsible for every mistake he made?”

The question hung in the air like smoke. I wanted to say yes, that bloodlines carried the weight of their sins. But looking at Marcus—whose father had been a drunk and a coward—I couldn’t make the words come.

“It doesn’t matter,” I said instead. “Even if I could stomach bonding with her, where would we find her? Witches don’t exactly advertise.”

Henrik and Marcus exchanged a look that made my stomach drop.

“You already know where she is,” I said slowly.

“Small town called Cedar Falls.” Marcus pulled a manila folder from inside his jacket. “We’ve been tracking supernatural anomalies for months, looking for anything that might help. Her signature kept showing up.”

I opened the folder to find surveillance photos of a young woman with dark hair and guarded eyes. She looked… normal. Tired, maybe. Lonely. Nothing like the monster I’d built up in my head.

“Maya,” Henrik said. “That’s her name. Works at an herb shop, lives alone, keeps to herself. No pack affiliations, no supernatural connections we can trace.”

“How do you know she’s the one?”

“Broken glass everywhere she goes. Animals get spooked around her. People report feeling agitated in her presence.” Marcus ticked off the signs on his fingers. “Plus, she matches the age and description from the birth records we found.”

I flipped through more photos—Maya at work, Maya walking home, Maya sitting alone in a coffee shop. Always alone.

“She has no idea what she is,” I said.

“Probably not. Her mother died when she was young. Raised in the foster system.” Henrik’s voice gentled. “She’s as much a victim of this curse as you are.”

“No.” I slammed the folder shut. “She’s the solution to it. Nothing more.”

“Jaxon—”

“If I’m going to save this pack by bonding with a witch, she’s going to pay for every day of suffering her mother caused.” I looked between them, letting them see the Alpha in my eyes. “Find her. Bring her to me. But understand this—I may need her blood, but I don’t have to be gentle about getting it.”

Marcus’s jaw tightened. “She’s innocent.”

“She’s the daughter of the woman who murdered my family. Innocent isn’t a word that applies.” I walked to the window, looking out over the territory I’d sworn to protect. Families were counting on me. Children who deserved to grow up safe.

Even if it meant binding myself to my greatest enemy.

“How long do we have?” I asked.

“The grey hair means the final stage has started,” Henrik said quietly. “Weeks, maybe less.”

“Then we move tonight.” I turned back to them, decision made. “Prepare a team. Small, quiet, efficient. And Henrik?”

“Yes, Alpha?”

“Brush up on your binding rituals. Because willing or not, that witch is going to save my life.”