Episode 2: The Alpha's Eyes
503 Words
“Stop running,” he growled, voice sharp as a blade.
I froze.
Not because I was afraid — but because I felt it.
That pull.
The invisible thread that stretched from him to me.
Tightening with every heartbeat.
I tried to ignore it, to pretend I hadn’t heard him, but my body betrayed me.
My legs stopped moving.
My heart stuttered.
And the forest went silent.
“I said… stop.”
This time, the command sank into my bones.
Slowly, I turned. The wind caught my hair, sweeping it across my face, but I could see him clearly.
Alpha Kael Blackthorn.
Towering. Dangerous. Unshakably calm.
His eyes glowed gold in the moonlight — not just from anger, but from something deeper.
Possession. Recognition.
Mate bond.
“You ran,” he said, voice quiet now… but deadly.
“I had to.” I could barely get the words out.
He stepped forward. The ground seemed to shift under him, the forest holding its breath.
Every step he took, I took one back — until I hit a tree behind me.
Cornered. Trapped.
Just like the night I escaped.
“Why?” he asked. “Why run from your mate?”
“Because I never chose you.” My voice cracked. “Because you’re everything I fear.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re mine. You don’t get to run from that.”
I laughed bitterly. “I’ve been running my whole life.”
His gaze darkened. “And where did it get you?”
Tears stung my eyes. “Free.”
He stepped closer. I could feel his heat now, radiating from him like fire.
The scent — pine and smoke — wrapped around me. Familiar. Dangerous.
I hated how it made me feel.
How my knees weakened.
How my wolf whispered his name in my mind.
“You don’t know what you’re saying,” he said, voice low, almost tender.
“I know exactly what I’m saying.” I looked up at him, meeting those wild, Alpha eyes. “You don’t get to own me just because of a bond.”
He growled — not loud, but deep and primal. His wolf was near the surface, clawing to come out.
“You’re mine, Luna. Whether you accept it or not.”
“Then why didn’t you stop me before?”
His silence was louder than any answer.
Something flickered in his expression — pain, maybe. Regret. But it was gone in a second.
“You’re coming home,” he said, voice like stone.
“I don’t have a home.”
“You do now.”
And just like that, he closed the distance between us.
One arm wrapped around my waist.
The other tilted my chin upward.
I should have fought.
Should have pushed him away.
But my body refused.
I hated how right it felt to be that close.
How his presence made the world quieter.
The bond was waking up.
And I was running out of time.
to be continued---
- Writer
