The Unspoken Bond
1044 Words
POV: Kael
The forest was quieter than usual, but I could still feel her presence.
Even now, with the wind shifting and the moon hidden behind clouds, her scent clung to the air—honeysuckle and something darker. It clashed with the iron tang of unease that had seeped into the bones of my pack since the night of the full moon.
I stood at the edge of the clearing where it had all begun. The same place she had reached for me. The same place the curse had screamed awake.
My hand still ached from where her fingers brushed mine. Not a physical wound,but something beneath the skin. Something deeper.
I didn’t know what to make of her.
Aria.
The name alone made something twitch in the corners of my mind. But I couldn’t grasp it. My wolf, usually loud and unrelenting, had grown silent ever since she arrived. Not absent, just...watching. Waiting.
And that terrified me.
For an Alpha, the bond was everything. It was instinct. Command. Control. I had built my leadership on strength and stability, and now both were unraveling under a woman whose presence made the earth hum beneath my feet.
I clenched my fists and turned back toward the packhouse.
Inside, the tension was thick. Warriors trained harder. Council members whispered longer. Everyone felt it—something was coming, and I wasn’t sure we were ready.
“Kael,” came a voice behind me.
Ronan, my Beta, stood in the hallway, arms crossed. “She’s back in the archives. Again.”
Of course she was.
I didn’t ask how he knew. The whole pack was aware of her late-night research sessions. She barely slept. Barely ate. She was looking for something.
No—she was looking for a way to fix me.
“Let her,” I said, brushing past him.
“You sure?” Ronan’s brow furrowed. “She’s exhausting herself. That can’t be the answer.”
I paused at the bottom of the stairs. “It’s not. But maybe it’s the only thing keeping her from falling apart.”
Ronan didn’t reply. He didn’t need to.
He didn’t trust her. Most of them didn’t. They saw her as a complication. A stranger with a tragic story and eyes that asked too many questions. But not me.
I didn’t trust her either—but I couldn’t ignore her.
Later that night, I found myself outside the archives. The door was slightly ajar, warm light spilling across the floor.
Inside, Aria sat cross-legged on the rug, scrolls and old tomes scattered around her like bones of some forgotten beast. Her hair was tied up haphazardly, strands escaping to frame her face. She hadn’t noticed me.
For a moment, I just stood there. Watching.
Her lips moved as she read silently, one hand trailing over a page like she could feel the magic etched into the parchment. The fire beside her crackled, casting flickering shadows across the room.
I cleared my throat.
She jumped, clutching the book to her chest before realizing it was me.
“You scared me,” she said, voice hoarse.
I stepped inside. “It’s late.”
“I know.”
Her eyes drifted back to the page, but I could see the exhaustion lining her face. The bruised shadows beneath her eyes. She was falling apart, piece by piece, and still trying to save me.
“Aria,” I said softly.
She looked up again, and something passed between us. Not the bond… not yet. But something unspoken.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.
“You’re not going to find the answer in a book that’s older than both our bloodlines.”
“I might,” she argued, almost childishly. “The curse came from somewhere. There has to be a way to undo it.”
I sighed and moved closer, lowering myself to the edge of the hearth.
“What if there isn’t?”
Her jaw tightened. “Then I’ll find another way.”
Her determination was maddening—and awe-inspiring. I didn’t know whether to yell at her or pull her into my arms.
“You sacrificed your wolf,” I said, not as a question.
She looked away, eyes glistening. “Yes.”
“Why?”
A beat passed. Then another.
“Because I had to,” she whispered. “Because I couldn’t walk away from you. Not when I knew we were meant to be.”
I closed my eyes. Her words twisted inside me, painful and too real. I hated what the curse had done to her. To us.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“You didn’t give me much choice,” she snapped, then immediately softened. “I’m sorry. I just... I’m scared.”
I opened my eyes again. “Me too.”
That admission felt like a betrayal. Alphas weren’t supposed to be afraid. But I was. Of her. Of the bond. Of the truth I didn’t yet understand.
She reached into the pile beside her and held out a scroll.
“This,” she said, “talks about soul fracturing. When the bond is forced before it’s ready, something inside the mate begins to break. If it continues... I could lose more than my wolf.”
I didn’t need her to explain further. I could feel it already—the strain on her magic. The cracks in her aura.
“What do we do?” I asked.
She blinked, surprised by my question.
“I don’t know,” she said honestly. “But I think... if we keep pushing, something terrible might happen.”
I nodded slowly. “Then we won’t push.”
Her brow furrowed. “But the bond—”
“We’ll find another way,” I interrupted. “Together.”
It was the first time I’d said that word out loud: together.
Her eyes filled with unshed tears. Not out of weakness—but relief.
I stood and extended my hand. She took it, her fingers cold but firm.
As we walked out of the archives, I felt my wolf stir for the first time in days. Just a flicker. A heartbeat.
But it was enough.
Something had changed.
And somewhere in the shadows, the curse began to shift.
- Writer
