The Alpha’s Bond: Forbidden but Wanted

“Stand still, Ximena.” My mother’s voice was low, sharp, and tired, but I ignored it the same way I had learned to ignore most things in my father’s house. The hall was full of wolves dressed in silk. I kept my chin up and my hands at my sides, even though every instinct in me said to leave before someone found another reason to humiliate me. Across the room, Father laughed with a group of Castellanos elders like this gathering belonged to him alone. The pack hall glittered with gold lights, and painted faces, but the air still felt wrong. It felt crowded, hot, and too quiet in a way that made my skin tighten. “Don’t look away when I’m speaking to you,” my father called. I turned my head slowly, and he didn’t bother to hide his irritation when he saw me. I was not dressed for attention, which meant in his eyes I had already failed. “Come here,” he said. I moved because I had no choice, and because refusing in front of this many wolves would only make the night worse. The guests watched me cross the room in complete silence. Some of them looked amused, some looked bored, and a few looked curious. My father reached for a glass from a passing servant and took a slow drink before he spoke again. “You are late.” “I was changed,” I said. His mouth twitched but it wasn’t a smile. “Then you should have changed faster.” A few of the wolves nearby laughed softly, careful enough to pretend they had not. I kept my face still and looked at the long table behind him, where the elders sat. I knew every one of them by sight. I also knew they would not help me if he decided to turn this into a lesson. Do not react, that was the only thing that kept me steady. Then it happened. At first it was a sudden brutal heat, like someone had pressed a brand to the center of my chest. My breath caught so hard my ribs locked. I stumbled, grabbing for the back of a chair, and the room blurred around me as the pain struck again, stronger this time. “No,” I whispered, though I did not know what I was refusing. Then gold burned under my skin. I doubled over with a gasp, one hand flying to my chest as fire tore through me, the hall went silent at once, then I heard a glass hit the floor somewhere behind me, I heard someone curse under their breath. A mark spread in a rush of burning light beneath my skin. I knew before I saw it. Bastián Valdemar. The name slammed into me with the force of a blow. My stomach twisted hard enough to make me gag, and I looked up through the pain because my body would not let me stay folded in half. Golden fire was blooming across the left side of my chest, bright enough that I knew everyone could see it. The shape of the mark was clear even through my dark dress. It was a crest, a bond, and a claim. The room had turned into a wall of staring faces. The room erupted, voices rose, some in disbelief, some in fear. Chairs scraped across the floor. Someone said his name like a prayer. Someone else said mine like a warning. I could hear it all through the pounding in my ears, but it sounded distant, muffled, and useless. “Move,” my father snapped. It was not to me but the wolves around him, and they obeyed instantly, stepping back to make room as if the air itself now belonged to whatever had just been born between me and the Valdemar Alpha. My knees nearly gave out, and I caught myself with one hand against the table. The pain kept pulsing, with every beat dragging more heat through my skin. No. No, no, no. I knew what this meant. Every wolf in the room knew. The Bond did not care about family, politics, or blood feuds. It only cared that it had chosen. And it had chosen me, of all people, in front of the entire Sangre Antigua. My father stepped closer. I could not lift my head all the way because my vision had narrowed at the edges, but I still saw the change in his face. The shock was there for only a second before something worse replaced it. Maybe interest or hunger or calculation. He looked at my burning skin like a man looking at a knife finally sharpened enough to use. Finally, his hand rested on my shoulder, heavy and possessive. His fingers dug in just enough to hurt. He leaned down until his mouth was near my ear, and his voice came out soft enough that only I could hear it. “Finally,” he said, “a use for you.”