Alpha's Bond

Chapter 8

By the third day, Evelyn could no longer pretend things were normal.

Damian had been right—the rogues hadn’t been a one-time threat. She felt it in the woods, the way silence fell too quickly, the way shadows seemed to move just beyond her sight. Every instinct screamed at her that danger lingered, circling.

And every time she turned, Damian was there. Watching. Waiting.

He didn’t barge into her space the way he had before. Instead, he lingered at the edges—on the porch in the evening, at the tree line in the mornings, a tall figure always near, as if tethered to her somehow. It should have infuriated her.

Instead, it unsettled her in a different way.

Because she felt safer when he was there.

Evelyn hated herself for that weakness. She’d sworn never to lean on another Alpha again, never to surrender even the smallest part of her freedom. But when she caught his scent—pine and iron, grounding and steady—it was like her chest could finally expand.

Lily noticed it too.

“Why does he look at us like that?” she whispered one evening, curled in Evelyn’s lap by the fire.

Evelyn brushed her fingers through her daughter’s curls, staring at the dark outline of Damian on the porch. “Because he thinks it’s his job to protect everyone.”

“But it’s different,” Lily said with childlike certainty. “He looks at you like you’re important. Like you’re his.”

Evelyn’s breath caught. She opened her mouth to deny it, to tell Lily she was imagining things. But the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, Evelyn felt it too—the invisible thread tugging tighter with each passing day.

Later, when Lily was asleep, Evelyn stepped outside. The night air was cool, thick with the scent of pine. Damian didn’t move as she approached, but his eyes followed her, glowing faintly in the dark.

“You can’t keep standing out here like a guard dog,” she said quietly.

“I can,” he replied simply.

Her arms folded across her chest. “You can’t expect me to accept this. To accept you.”

His gaze sharpened, his voice rough. “It isn’t about acceptance. The bond doesn’t care what either of us wants.”

Her heart lurched. “Bond?”

Damian stepped closer, and the space between them pulsed with heat. “You feel it too. Don’t pretend you don’t.”

Evelyn swallowed hard, the denial on her lips crumbling. Because he was right. Every breath, every look, every time their eyes met—something stronger than either of them was pulling tighter.

And it terrified her more than the rogues ever could.