The Bond That Burns

Chapter One “No, please stop… help me please don’t let me go please touch me.” Her voice broke, trembling as though each syllable cost her strength she didn’t have. Her fingers clutched at his shirt with desperate force, nails digging into the fabric as if holding onto him was the only thing anchoring her to life itself. Her body burned—every nerve, every vein aflame—and her breath came in ragged bursts, hot against his skin. “My whole body… it feels so hot,” she whispered, her words sliding out like fevered confessions. With a growl, the Alpha pushed her head aside, his jaw tight with frustration. “What the hell do you think you are you doing?” His voice was sharp, almost startled, as if the very audacity of her actions clawed at his sense of control. His hands clamped on her shoulders, shoving her back, creating space between them. But she refused. Her eyes, clouded with a haze of longing and torment, locked onto him with a strength that belied her shaking form. Before he could move again, she climbed over him, pressing herself closer with a desperation that bordered on madness. “Alpha,” she pleaded, her voice breaking, a raw edge of pain and yearning laced through her tone. “Just this once, I need your seed in me… please. Please, Alpha.” His heart lurched against his ribs, torn between rage and something far more dangerous. He shoved her head back again, harsher this time, his chest heaving. “Enough!” He barked as he clawed her head out with his hands And then there was silence ********************************* Few hours earlier, the world had been so very different. The air was alive with celebration, thick with music, laughter, and the heady scent of roasted meat and sweet wine. Tonight was no ordinary night—it was the coming-of-age ceremony for the Alpha’s heir. At eighteen, tradition demanded he find his mate, the one soul destined to bind with his. The courtyard of the great house overflowed with wolves from Afar and beyond—packs from distant regions, betas and omegas, allies and rivals alike—all gathered beneath the lantern-lit sky to honor the night that might seal new bonds and alliances. But amidst the tide of eager faces and hopeful glances, the young Alpha sat apart. Cameron leaned against the carved wooden rail of the veranda, perched high above the throng. From there, he could see everything: the swirl of dancers below, the elders raising toasts, the younger wolves laughing too loudly with cups in hand. The glow of torches flickered across jeweled gowns and finely tailored suits, but none of it stirred anything in him. His father’s voice boomed somewhere in the distance, greeting dignitaries from neighboring packs. His step mother moved with practiced grace, smiling at every guest as though each were royalty. The atmosphere pulsed with pride, with anticipation. Somewhere out there, perhaps in the crowd, his fated mate might be waiting. And yet… Cameron couldn’t bring himself to care. His arms folded across his chest, his dark eyes distant as they followed the path of a firefly drifting lazily into the night. The cheers below felt muffled, their joy diluted by the heavy weight pressing on his chest. “Shouldn’t you be down there?” a voice teased lightly behind him. He turned his head just enough to see Marcus, his childhood friend and Beta-to-be, leaning against the doorway. Marcus’s grin was infuriatingly casual, his amber eyes flicking from Cameron to the throng below. “I mean, look at them,” Marcus continued, gesturing toward the dance floor. “Half the girls here are practically clawing each other to get your attention. And the other half are trying not to stare too obviously. It’s a miracle the railing hasn’t collapsed from the weight of their expectations.” Cameron’s lips curved into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “Then maybe I should stay up here, so I don’t add to their disappointment.” Marcus chuckled, pushing off the doorframe. “You always did have a flair for dramatics.” He said and joined Cameron at the railing, leaning forward to watch the festivities. For a moment, they were quiet, the sounds of the celebration swelling around them like waves crashing against a shore. Below, a group of younger wolves broke into a traditional song, their voices weaving together in harmony as drums thrummed in rhythm. The elders clapped along, the air charged with pride and tradition. “Your father’s looking this way,” Marcus said under his breath. But Cameron didn’t move“Let him,he replied. “You know what he expects,” Marcus pressed, his tone softer now. “Tonight isn’t just about you. It’s about the pack and about the future of all of us.” Marcus statement made the Alpha’s jaw tighten before replying. “I know.” And he did, he knew the weight of every eye on him, every hope stitched into the fabric of tonight’s celebration. He was supposed to smile, to mingle, to find the one the Moon Goddess had chosen for him. But the idea of pretending—of putting on a performance he didn’t feel—left a bitter taste in his mouth. “You ever think,” Cameron murmured, his gaze lost in the lantern light, “that maybe the Moon Goddess got it wrong?” Marcus blinked, turning toward him. “Wrong?” “That maybe not everyone has someone waiting out there. That maybe…” He hesitated, struggling with the thought. “Maybe some of us are meant to walk alone.” Marcus let out a low whistle. “Well, damn. That’s depressing.” Cameron shot him a look, but Marcus only grinned wider. “Seriously, though—don’t go spouting that kind of stuff out loud because half the elders would faint and the other half would drag you to the temple for purification.” The corner of Cameron’s mouth twitched, almost a smile. “Relax,” Marcus added, clapping a hand to his shoulder. “You don’t have to force anything, If your mate’s here, you’ll know. If not…” He shrugged. “We’ll drink enough wine to drown the elders’ disappointment.” And for a fleeting moment, Cameron felt the heaviness in his chest ease. Marcus always had that effect on him—grounding him, pulling him out of the storm in his head. But as his eyes drifted back to the crowd, a strange unease flickered in his gut which he couldn’t name, couldn’t explain it—but something about tonight felt different. And Cameron barely had a moment to follow the thought circling in his head when a sudden, thunderous shout ripped through the courtyard below. “Rogue! Rogue! Rogue!” The cry rose like a thunderclap, spreading from one voice to another until the word roared across the courtyard. In seconds, celebration turned to c*****e. The air became filled with shrieks and panicked shouts, the clatter of tables overturning, goblets smashing against stone. Wolves shoved past each other, scrambling to flee, their scents thick with fear—sharp, acrid, suffocating. On the veranda, Cameron froze for half a breath, his chest tightening. His body reacted before his mind could catch up, his pulse thundering in his ears, rogues here at his ceremony. Beside him, Marcus’s playful grin vanished. His jaw set hard, his eyes flashing with readiness. “s**t,” he whispered, scanning the chaos below. Cameron’s hands clamped onto the railing until his knuckles blanched. His eyes swept the mayhem, heart pounding, every muscle coiled. His wolf pressed against the walls of his control, snarling, demanding to be released, demanding blood. And then—he saw it. A flicker of movement that cut through the terror-stricken herd. Red. For a moment, the world narrowed until that was all he saw. That red hair, moving not with the rest, not away from the danger, but against it. While the others scattered like leaves before the storm, the red hair surged forward—straight toward the heart of it. Cameron’s chest clenched and something primal inside him stirred, fierce and unrelenting. Instinct roared in his veins, louder than the cries around him. “Marcus—stay here!” His voice cracked out like a whip. “What? Cameron, wait—” But he didn’t wait he vaulted the railing in one smooth, furious motion, the wind rushing against his face as he dropped. His boots struck the ground hard, the shock rippling through his legs, but he was already moving, already chasing. The courtyard was a storm of bodies. Wolves crashed into him in their rush to flee, their eyes wide, their breaths ragged. Some shouted warnings, others simply ran with wild terror etched on their faces. “Get out of the way!” Cameron snarled, shoving past them, his focus unbreakable. His gaze locked onto that fleeting streak of red as it darted through the chaos like a flame refusing to be extinguished. His wolf clawed at his skin, restless, insistent. Faster, don’t lose her. Who was she? Why would anyone run toward danger when even seasoned wolves ran from it? And why, deep in his bones, did he feel as though his very soul would fracture if he lost sight of that fiery red hair? His breath burned in his lungs as he closed the distance. The red hair flashed again, weaving through the crowd, and this time—finally—he was gaining. His boots pounded against the stone path, every stride powerful, relentless. The figure ahead of him moved fast, almost impossibly so, but not fast enough. His wolf surged inside him, hungry, snarling for the capture. Just a few more seconds. Just one leap, and he would have her. Closer… closer… His muscles coiled, ready to spring, to tackle her before she slipped through his grasp. He gathered himself, his body rising into the air— And then— “Cameron!” A blur shot out from the left, too sudden, too close and he had no time to react. The impact hit like a hammer as his chest collided with another body, solid and unyielding. The air whooshed out of his lungs as they crashed together, momentum tangling, sending them both staggering back with a force that rattled his bones. “What the hell?!” Cameron barked, his Alpha voice raw with fury. His head whipped around, his eyes blazing— Only to find his brother. “Damian?” Damian’s face was a mirror of his own shock, wide-eyed and breathless, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His chest rose and fell in frantic heaves as if he’d been running just as hard. For a split second, both brothers stood frozen, tangled in each other’s grip, their eyes locking. Before he twisted, searching— And his heart sank. Because the red hair was gone.