Bonded In Love

Chapter 3

"Alright, spill the tea, sis," Mira says, flopping onto my bed, while her little brother keeps Jingles busy with one of her favorite toys.

I sit on the floor with them, knees pulled up, head pounding like I just got trampled by a stampede of buffalo.

"That's the tea.” “ My mom’s engaged.” “ And I’m moving."

I watched Jingles bat at the bells dangling from the rope stick, my stomach twisting.

Mira's eyes widened. "I need more than that!" "You didn’t think to, I don’t know, get more information?" She sat up. "Like where are you moving? Are you even going to stay at the same high school?"

I groan internally. Dammit, she's right.

"You’re right," I muttered. "But all I could think about was getting out of there.” “I felt hot, like the room was closing in on me.” "I just needed to leave. Quickly."

I lift my gaze towards her—still sprawled across my bed like this was just another casual night hanging out.

Mira's seventeen too—bold, outgoing, but only with people she actually clicks with. Just like me. If someone feels fake, if they’re not on our wavelength, we keep our distance.

She’s my height, dark-skinned, always rocking braids in whatever color matches her mood.

And as for her love life? She’s on boyfriend number three or four—I honestly stopped keeping count.

Zev had always been a tomboy, even before she had brothers—skating, biking, anything that kept her moving. She always said that when she turned eighteen, she’d buy a motorcycle, whether her parents approved or not. She was white and Spanish mixed, fierce in her independence.

And then there was Ren—my best friend, the one I used to crush on back in elementary and middle school. When I finally told him how I felt, he let me down as gently as possible. Most guys his age were consumed by ego—Sigma energy this, ‘I’m King’ nonsense—but Ren was just himself. He was smart, funny, and unafraid to show his sensitive side—without ever coming across as weak.

Not gonna lie—the rejection stung. But over time, we grew close, building a friendship that felt solid.

How am I supposed to tell him? His family probably wouldn’t accept me anyway. He’s Indian, tall, with deep brown eyes that say more than words ever could—and a smile that could melt butter.

I exhaled, pressing my fingers to my temples, trying to will away the pounding migraine.

"Once I know more, you’ll be the first to hear," I murmured.

"Poor Ren.” “He’s going to be heartbroken," Mira says, flopping back onto my bed while typing away on her phone.

I glanced at her. "Who are you texting?"

"Ren," she replies matter-of-factly. "Group chat."

I groan, sitting up fast. "I wanted to tell him first!"

Before she could react, I snatch the phone from her hand.

"Hey!" she yelps, startled.

I grip the phone, glaring at her.

"Nyxie… What's wrong with you?” “Are you on your period or something?" she asks, frowning.

I barely process her words— the edges of my vision darkening, my focus narrowing.

And then… I growl.

"Nini?" Mira blinks, then bursts into laughter. "Did you just growl at me?"

She sits up, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Oh no, b***h, you did not just growl at me!" She’s doubled over now, laughing uncontrollably.

I slapped a hand over my mouth, stunned. What the hell was that?!

"I didn’t!" I sputter, mortified.

"You did!" Mira shoots back, already on her feet. She clears her throat dramatically, mimicking me. "'Hey! "I wanted to text him first!'" She makes a grabbing motion, then lets out an exaggerated growl before collapsing onto my bed, laughing so hard she clutches her stomach.

"Girl, you need a boyfriend." "What is going on with you?" she gasps, wiping away tears.

I grab my water bottle from the dresser and chug it—God, I’m thirsty.

"That was an accident," I mumble, pacing the room. It suddenly feels hot, stifling. My skin is burning, my teeth feel weird—almost too sharp.

"I need to change," I blurted out, grabbing a pair of shorts and a tank top before bolting toward the guest bathroom.

I froze, staring at my reflection. Black pupils. Elongated canines.

My head throbs, pulsing, like my head is about to split open.

And then—the scent.

I lift my arm, breathing in. Sweet. Warm. It floods my senses, makes my mouth water, drives me insane. I’ve never smelled this before. My own scent is overwhelming me.

I feel a sudden odd sensation, then pain. "ARGH!" What the hell is going on?!

I can’t walk out like this. Not looking flushed, wild-eyed, sweating like I just ran miles.

I pace the bathroom, my skin burning up even after changing clothes.

"Nini!" "Your mom’s home—she’s here with her fiancé!" Mira calls out.

"Great," I mutter, the word slipping out as a growl.

I clear my throat. "I mean—thanks." "I’ll be out in a sec," I say, strained.

A few moments pass before I hear the soft knock.

"Honey… hey, are you okay in there?"

Everything flares red at the sound of her voice.

My lips curled back. My teeth, bare. My throat tightens—

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

The snarl rips from me like something not human. The sound is raw, unfamiliar, primal. I don’t recognize my own voice.

And worse—I’m growling. Drooling. Like some kind of feral creature.

I barely register the faint gasp before she rushes away.

Then—Darius.

He’s at the door.

"Nyxie, stay calm, alright?" "Let me in—let’s talk," he says, voice steady, controlled. But underneath, there’s something else. A tension. A low, rumbling edge.

Then—the pounding.

Not just knocking—banging.

And… scratching?

I stumble back, fear lurching through me. My gaze darts around, searching for an escape.

The window.

I scrambled into the tub, pushing it open.

In a breathless rush, I climbed out and took off, sprinting into the woods behind the house.

Nobody will find me here.

Because I don’t even know what’s happening to me.

Several hours later.

My nails—long, sharp—and before I can even process it, I’ve scaled a tree with ease.

Rain pours down, a cool breeze weaving through the branches. I close my eyes and exhale—the sensation is incredible against my burning skin.

Then—movement.

Something darts at the edge of my vision. A squirrel?

And suddenly—my mouth waters.

Wait. Mouth-watering? Over a squirrel?!

Gross.

I shake my head, panting as I cling to the thick tree trunk, pressing my face against the rough bark. My teeth still sharp—my body restless. I feel a strange shift on my head.

Tentatively, I reach up—and freeze.

My ears.

They're higher, perched like a cat. And somehow—I can hear everything.

Far-off sounds, distant voices—even inside my house.

My mom tells Mira she has to leave due to a family matter, apologizing for my outburst.

Darius growls, his body tense, clearly struggling for control.

Mom rushes back inside, lowering her voice as she speaks to him.

"Honey, I’m so sorry—I thought she had more human traits like me. She’s never shown any signs of being like my late husband. Are you okay? Can you control this? Is it her scent?" she asks, worry laced through every word.

"Y-yes… it’s overwhelming," Darius replies, his voice tight. Then a pause. "This is her first time?"

Mom nods, her voice barely above a whisper. "Yes."

Darius exhales sharply. "Did you ever tell her it was possible?" His tone shifts, steadier now, more composed.

"N-no… I never really wanted to talk about it," she admits, sorrow heavy in her words.

"Vessa, that’s dangerous. What were you thinking?" His surprise is evident.

"I wasn’t!" she snaps, then sighs, defeated. "I was just trying to forget him. It hurt too much—anything that reminded me of him. I was his bonded mate, even as a human, you know that. You were his closest friend." "And now… the universe has brought you me—my scent, my body, synchronizing to yours," she murmurs.

Darius narrows his eyes. "Vessa, don’t change the subject. Your daughter is a werewolf—and her scent is incredibly strong. She’s lucky she’s here and not on my land."

W-w-werewolf?!

What the hell is he talking about?

I glance down and freeze.

A pack of wolves circles beneath me, their gazes locked onto me, their claws raking the bark. They don’t growl—just watch, waiting. Some snap at each other, fighting for position, desperate to be closest to the tree.

I shrunk back, a whimper escaping me.

"Darius, please! Help her—talk to my daughter!" Mom’s voice cracks with desperation.

Then—movement.

A gust of wind whips through the trees, carrying the scent of fur. A dark shape emerges, growling—a pair of glowing yellow eyes cutting through the night.

The wolves scatter. Whimpers echo as most flee, but one—one stands its ground, baring its teeth.

It doesn’t last long.

The dark form lets loose a deep, rumbling roar—and the defiant wolf scampers away.

I stare, horrified.

A massive creature stands below—a towering wolf, its form impossibly muscular, almost humanlike.

It moves effortlessly, leaping up onto a neighboring tree.

And then—it leans in.

Moonlight spills over its angular, lupine face, its piercing gaze locking onto mine.

"Nyxie," it rumbles, voice deep and steady.

"It’s Darius.

We should… talk."