Harper 4
905 Words
Darius POV
The moment the Elders left, I found myself studying every inch of her figure.
Harper Romaria Vale.
I'd first seen her at a neutral territory gathering, clinging to Jax's arm like she was afraid he'd disappear. Even then, something about her had caught my attention. Not her beauty, though she was lovely in that fragile way desperate things often were, but her spine. The way she held herself despite the whispers following her about her father's crimes.
That night, I'd watched Jax abandon her repeatedly to flirt with other women. Watched her smile grow smaller with each slight. Any other girl would have stormed out. Harper had stayed, chin raised, refusing to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing her break.
That's when I'd started watching her.
Three years of observing from a distance. Learning her patterns, her struggles, her quiet strength. Three years of watching my worthless son take her devotion for granted while she worked two jobs to help pay her family's debts.
Jax had always been weak. Even as a child, he'd chosen the easy path, running to his mother whenever I tried to teach him strength. After the divorce, Victoria had poisoned him against me, filling his head with ideas about my "cruelty" and "monstrous nature." She'd raised him to be soft, entitled, everything an Alpha shouldn't be.
I'd tried to reconnect when he turned eighteen. Offered him a place in my pack, a chance to learn real leadership. Instead, he'd chosen to live off his trust fund, playing at being an Alpha while avoiding any real responsibility.
When he'd started dating Harper, I'd watched him treat her like an accessory, something pretty to hang on his arm while he flirted with other women.
The boy had no concept of loyalty, no understanding of what it meant to protect something precious. He'd been given a rare gift in Harper's devotion and had thrown it away for sport.
Yesterday's livestream had proven everything I'd always known about my son. He was cruel without purpose, weak without honor. He'd destroyed Harper not because it served any greater goal, but because he could. Because it amused him.
Three years of waiting for him to finally show his true nature. Three years of waiting for the perfect moment to claim what he'd discarded.
Now Harper swayed slightly, pressing her fingers to her bleeding nose. The soul bond was taking its toll faster than I'd expected.
"Twenty-four hours," I said, checking my watch. "The ceremony is just formal acknowledgment. The real bond is already established through your blood."
She nodded weakly, relief flickering across her features. Whatever she'd been imagining about mating rituals, reality was less terrifying than her expectations.
"Now you rest. The bond is draining your strength."
As if summoned by my words, her knees buckled. I caught her before she could hit the steel floor, her slight weight settling easily in my arms.
"I'm fine," she protested.
Blood continued to flow from her nose, and I could feel her body trembling with exhaustion. The soul anchor connection was more intense than usual, probably because she'd used so much power to break through my curse initially.
Without another word, I lifted her fully into my arms. She was lighter than I'd expected, all sharp angles and stubborn pride wrapped in soft skin.
"Where are you taking me?"
"To the medical wing. Dr. Graham needs to monitor your condition."
She didn't have the strength to argue. Her head fell against my shoulder as I carried her through the compound's corridors, and I found myself adjusting my stride to avoid jarring her.
The medical wing was spotless and well-equipped. I'd spared no expense on pack healthcare. Dr. Graham looked up from his desk as I entered, his expression shifting to professional concern when he saw Harper's condition.
"Soul Anchor establishment?" he asked.
"Yes. She's bleeding and weak."
"Normal side effects. Set her on the examination table."
I placed Harper gently on the padded surface, noting how she immediately tried to sit up straighter despite her obvious exhaustion. Even semiconscious, she refused to appear vulnerable.
Dr. Graham began his examination, checking her pulse, blood pressure, examining the nosebleed. "The bond is strong," he observed. "Stronger than usual. Her body is working overtime to maintain the connection."
"Is that dangerous?"
"Not fatal, but she'll need rest and monitoring. I'll start an IV to keep her hydrated."
Dr. Graham inserted the IV needle into Harper's.
"The saline will help," he explained. "She needs rest and fluids."
Within minutes, Harper's breathing had evened out and her eyes had closed. Sleep claimed her quickly, her face finally relaxing from the tension she'd been carrying.
"How long?" I asked.
"Several hours. The initial bonding is always the most taxing."
I settled into the chair beside her bed, watching the steady rise and fall of her chest. My phone buzzed with pack business, but I ignored it. There would be time for politics later.
I must have dozed off, because the next thing I knew, Dr. Graham was shaking my shoulder urgently.
"Alpha. Alpha, wake up."
I jerked awake, immediately looking toward the bed.
It was empty.
"Where is she?" My voice came out as a growl.
"I don't know. I stepped out for thirty minutes to check on another patient. When I came back..." He gestured helplessly at the vacant bed, IV tubing hanging loose where it had been pulled free.
- Writer
