The Ash Witch and the Alpha

The Pull of the Mate Bond

It takes two days for Diana to convince both Becca and Betty that she’s fine to be left alone. At first, she relished in their company, of the freedom of movement to go outside when she wished, to be on her phone and endlessly scroll social media and reply to vendors seeking her wares. But at the dawn of the third day, her faithful companions left, under the promise that she would call them daily, just to check in and assure them she was fine. Betty had an air of worry about her and promised to seek out her supernatural contacts for a pulse of the situation regarding the wolves. Since Diana had no coven, she was severely out of the loop regarding most things, including supernatural treaties and who was allied to whom. She didn’t mind it before, with her grandfather’s passing, she hadn’t spoken to another witch since and she was happy in her solitude. Yet now she was thrust into a new world, one she had barely explored.

When she was eighteen, she had been much more bright-eyed and bushy tailed, eager to meet with her extended family, her large group of second cousins, all of whom were full blooded witches. Yet they had made it clear there was no room in the Black Coven for an Ash witch, no matter how closely related they were. Diana had fallen quite ill soon after, a physical manifestation of the rejection, she had been told, and it brought down a fever that lasted nearly a week. Her memories of those days were hazy at best, her grandfather had called in an old favor and a witch visited with herbs and the like to heal her, apparently even siphoning some of it out of Diana and into her own body. It was something Diana was resolute to learn herself, which helped when confronted with Lizzie on the stairs, bleeding out. Healing the pack was easier, the magic had ebbed and flowed through the room, she was able to draw it not only from her own magic but that of the wind.

Nature was a powerful force of magic, the elements in particular. Water, earth and air were the most common. Every grimoire she had ever read warned against fire magic, it could damage your own magical core, the witch’s inner flame. Perhaps that was why she had felt so powerful as of late, being more in tuned with nature. Although, even then, she felt herself weakening slightly with each day that passed. While still at full strength, she had reinforced her wards, made sure no one but those she wished to could cross, infused with her own consciousness, a mirror of sorts.

Diana had just settled into her empty home when she felt it, a tug on the ward itself, someone was there. Abandoning her steaming mug of coffee with a sigh, she grabbed a sweater and threw it on over her shirt, too lazy and also in too much of a rush to dress properly, as the ward was bending, allowing the person in.

Yet when she stepped outside, she had assumed it to be Betty, as she was the one who had promised to stop by as soon as she had information, she stopped in her tracks. The ward was pulsating, a figure she knew all too well was attempting to get in. The barrier was finicky in that moment, allowing him further in one moment and trying to reject him the next. She almost laughed as she internally debated which route to go, the same as her magic was. Finally, she waved her hand and Tristan dropped to his knees before her, seemingly from his attempt at brute force to enter.

“Diana!” He exclaimed, seemingly relieved at the sight of her. Her heart ached at the desperation clear on his face and she almost flung herself into his arms before reigning her emotions in and settling with a cruel expression.

“Tristan.” Diana deadpanned. Her fingers gripped her hair to keep herself from reaching out to touch him, she flipped a lock back and forth. “What are you doing here?”

“I—” He rose to his feet, pausing slightly, drinking in the sight of her. His eyes flashed, back and forth from black to their natural warm brown, signaling a struggle with his wolf. “I need to talk to you.” Tristan’s voice was a mix of two, his fingers reaching out to her. Despite her better judgment, she allowed it, his touch grazing her elbow and swiping up to her wrist, causing a warm sensation to flood her.

Her eyes widened as she felt it, the fires of her magic being stoked, brightening to what they were before she left pack lands. Experimentally, she reached out herself, fingers grasping his shoulder and moving upwards, to his neck, to where a faded scar lay. Tristan whimpered, baring it slightly, surprising her. The magic was growing with each gentle stroke against each other and Tristan’s wolf was quickly rising to the surface. The voice in the back of Diana’s mind was growing stronger, demanding affection, demanding Tristan.

Thoughts of talk dissipated as they creeped closer to one another, foreheads lightly touching. Diana was the one to initiate the kiss, her teeth nipping at his bottom lip, demanding entrance. His jaw slacked open as she devoured him, the surge of power in her veins demanding more, more, more. Tristan’s hands gripped her hips, rutting against them before dipping beneath the layers of clothes, his eyes black.

What were they doing? Diana thought quietly, as if pushed to the back of her own consciousness, just like the night of the full moon. Was it easier this way, to blame some outside force, to blame the mate bond the wolves held so sacred, to just…give in to this frantic need coursing through her?

Tristan consumed her in that moment, his smell, his touch, his dominating Aura that covered her completely. He pushed her with just enough force to make her stumble back, her back pressed against the magnolia tree. She had planted it as a seedling and coaxed its growth with a bit of her magic; it was huge, plenty sturdy enough for Tristan to pin her against. Her back scratched against the bark as he made quick work of her shirt and sweater, palms grasping her bare breasts, seemingly pleased that she had gone with a second layer in place of a b*a. Her spine arched to his touch, her body lost in the haze. It was like this before, a part of her mused, when she had tried to distract him enough to escape, she had begun to lose herself to him then too, but this was so much more. Her mind, her body, her magic was humming for him, demanding to get closer, to connect deeper.

Diana grasped his belt, undoing it with shaking hands, flinging it to the floor with wild abandon. Her breathing was uneven as she freed him from his jeans, fingers grasping his erect length. Even she could smell their combined arousal, a part of her reveled in it. Tristan was panting as his hands stilled from their place on her breasts, he pulled away slightly to look at her, to truly look at her. Her hair was a mess, she was sure, eyes wild with hunger, chest heaving. She gave him the smallest hint of a nod, a brief flash of consent, and her shorts were torn away, literally shredded. They fell, unceremoniously, onto the dirt beneath them and before she could muse that they were her favorite pair, Tristan had positioned himself at her entrance. “Diana…” Her name was the first word either of them had spoken before the haze of l**t overtook them and she knew it was him asking, no, begging for her.

In that moment she wasn’t sure what it was: the growing power of her magic which had to be from Tristan’s touch or the mate bond, the insane amount of hormones pumping through her, causing extreme arousal or the voice in her head demanding to be mated and marked, despite the more rational part claiming otherwise, but she rolled her hips forwards and upwards, taking him to the hilt in one quick, smooth motion.

They both groaned at the sensation. Diana had had good s*x before, kinky, hot, o****m garanteed s*x, but this was…this was something so much more. It made her feel complete, as though for the first time since her grandparents died, she was a part of something, that she meant something meaningful to someone else, like pieces falling into place in her soul. She pushed the rational part of her to the back of her mind and melded with the ever growing voice that screamed that she accepted the mate bond, that she accepted Tristan.

They didn’t rut like animals, rather he held her gently, hands finding purchase on her lower back and one of her thighs and he thrust into her slowly, savoring each whimper that escaped her mouth. It was a mutual need at that moment, to be one with each other. With every pressing of flesh, they felt more and more complete, more in tune with each other. She could feel the tension in her belly coiling, her core tightening around his proud c**k and she mumbled his name over and over again as he drove her to her peak. Diana didn’t mean to, but she screamed as she came, overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it.

Tristan followed a moment after, unleashing an Alpha’s power in his roar, head thrown back,teeth extended and aimed at her neck before she quickly pushed him away before he could mark her.

Diana wasn’t sure where the strength came from, considering her legs felt like a newborn foal’s, but he skid back a few feet. Tristan blinked a few times, staring at her, watching her shake, his c*m dripping down her thighs and looked genuinely hurt, his eyes betraying his emotional state. “Why…?” He honestly couldn’t understand, why would she give into the mate bond yet not let herself be marked, be his?

They both had tears pricking their eyes but all Diana could do was turn and run, bolt inside and bite her lip to keep herself from letting out a sob. She left the door open and Tristan ran after her, following her to where she sat at the foot of her bed, clearly distraught. “I–I’m sorry.” She breathed after an overtly long silence, “I–I just got overwhelmed and–” Tristan wrapped her in his arms before she could finish, inhaling her scent with each breath, reigning in his wolf who still howled that she was his.

“The mate bond between wolves usually doesn’t go unfulfilled for this long. They mate and mark pretty much instantly. But…you’re not a wolf.” He said, as much to himself as to her: a reminder. “But the bond still clearly affects you. I…I had hoped it would have overwhelmed you the moment you woke up in my room, surrounded by my scent.”

It had, in a way, slowly overwhelmed her. When she woke up a few weeks ago, it had brought her comfort, a strange sense of familiarity but she was also so overwhelmed by the emptiness that accompanied her magic being taken. The need associated with the mate bond didn’t arrive until her magic returned, all consuming and demanding him to be hers. Yet its companion was the voice in her head growing louder, demanding vengeance, demanding to mark Tristan in return, something she doubted her normal, human teeth could even do.

“I hated you the moment I woke up in that room.” The words spill from Diana’s mouth before she could catch herself. “If you were taken from your home and had your wolf ripped from you, would you fall in love with your captor? Would you thank them for supposedly loving you, even though they took away the one thing you cared about most, with no concern for your well being at all?”

“I–” Tristan pauses, unsure how to string together his thoughts, “I made it comfortable, I–I made sure you had your favorite books, had the chef make your favorite food and–”

“Demanded I love you and submit to a world of your order.” She refuses to look at him, instead she coils her knees to her chin and tucks her body close to herself, not allowing him to touch her in any way. The haze and l**t from before is gone, instincts satisfied for the moment.

“But I do love you!” Tristan exclaimed, “You’re my mate, the Moon Goddess blessed me with a second chance at love. I refuse to give it up, you are mine!” She can’t tell if he’s speaking or the wolf within him and she sneers at him.

“I am my own person! I am not some object to be possessed, nor am I a she-wolf you can force to submit!” Diana springs to her feet in rage, throwing a blanket from her bed onto her body to cover herself. “Get out!”

“Wait–” His eyes turn desperate and she softens just the slightest bit, blaming it on the mate bond and not that she actually is starting to care for the man. “The Alpha Summit!” He blurts before she can force him out.

“The what?” Her eyebrows knit together as she stares at him, silently giving him permission to continue.

“I meant to talk to you about it before we….when I first came here. Alpha Bradley of River Rock, he’s demanding justice for you killing his beta and he–” The glare and rage from Diana stops him mid sentence and he falters slightly, “He wants to address it before the summit, if you don’t come, he’ll declare war on you.”

“And?” Diana deadpans, the gears in her mind turning, “How big is his pack?” She had no combat experience but if she could turn a man into flowers, surely she could fortify her wards enough for a few mutts.

“Fifteen hundred, almost the size of our pack.” Tristan replies, in disbelief that she’s actually considering taking them on. She scoffs at the mention of ‘our,’ as she currently has no desire to be connected to his pack.

Diana grits her teeth, “Do all packs uphold the same law?” She asks, knowing that covens had a universal code of conduct, what was legal and what would get your burned.

Tristan nodded, “There’s a treaty in place between the packs, mainly on how to deal with rogues. But attacks on a Luna as well.” She took another step back from him, personifying the distance she felt from him mentally in that moment.

“And does the law speak to non-wolves?” She pressed, “As an Ash Witch, would what he did be considered a crime? Would what I did be considered self-defense?”

He faltered, trying to think, trying to justify that if she were marked and made his Luna, the law would protect her retroactively, but knowing it would fall on deaf ears. “I’m not sure, I can have my Beta research the laws for me.”

“No.” Diana dismissed,wrapping the blanket more securely around her, “Bring me the law books and I will go with you to the Alpha Summit.” She wanted to know just what she was getting into, although she wasn’t about to tell him she planned on calling Betty to get a vampire’s perspective.