Bound by Blood, Freed by Love

Chapter Two

ELLIE’S POV

When the hall emptied, I returned to the cellar that is my home. The door groaned as it shut behind me, sealing me in the dark. I didn’t bother lighting the lamp. There was nothing down here worth seeing, just stone, dust, and shadows. I knew every crack in the wall by heart, every cobwebbed corner, every creaking floorboard above me. I moved slowly, each step a wave of fresh pain.

The lash across my arm had split the skin. Warm blood still seeped from the welt, sticking the rough fabric of my sleeve to my skin. I didn’t dare tear it away because it would hurt more, and anyway, pain was normal, pain was my only companion.

In the dim glow of the moonlight slipping through the tiny window, I pulled out my mom’s scarf and I held it close, pressing my face into the soft, faded fabric. It smelled faintly of lavender and firewood, of safer days, of warmth.

I didn’t sob, sobbing made noise, sobbing brought pain.

But I let the tears fall silently, soaking the scarf, soaking the memories.

I didn’t cry because of the lash, or the blood, or the humiliation.

I cried because I remembered how she used to braid my hair while humming.

How she called me her little moonbeam.

How her arms felt like home.

And how I had killed her.

That was what they said and hat was what I believed.

I clenched the scarf tighter, fingers curling into the delicate fabric as if it could pull me back to that one perfect moment. The moment before the tea, before the poison, before everything shattered.

I had made it for them. I remembered that night so clearly, despite all the years that had passed. I’d been so proud. I wanted to do something kind, something grown-up. Mom had laughed, kissing my forehead and dad had ruffled my hair. I poured the tea with both hands, careful not to spill. They drank it with smiles, and then they died.

They thrashed, choked and fell.

Wesley’s scream had split the air and my world.

“She poisoned them!” he’d cried.

And they believed him.

Everyone did, even me.

Because who else could it have been?

Who else touched the cups?

Who else poured the tea?

Who else but the daughter they loved so dearly?

I buried my face in the scarf, pressing it against my lips to muffle the soft sound that almost escaped me. Not a cry, not a word, just a broken breath from a broken girl.

Twelve years, twelve years of silence.

Twelve years without shifting, without howling, without hearing the wolf inside me.

My wolf had been bound, caged, strangled by Wesley’s cruel spell the night he became Alpha.

And maybe I had deserved it.

I lay down on the hay, curled into myself like a child, the scarf clutched to my chest.

The moonlight faded, and the cold crept in.

And still I stayed awake.

Waiting for a dream that would never come.

——————————————————

The first howl came just after midnight.

I sat up in the dark, my heart thudding. My hands clutched the worn scarf beneath my cheek, my mother’s scarf, the only thing they hadn’t taken from me.

I counted the silence after it.

One. Two. Three…Then came the second howl. This time, it was longer and closer.

I wasn’t making a mistake. That wasn’t one of ours.

Today was my twentieth birthday, and like every birthday before it, I hadn’t dared hope for anything different.

But something was different tonight.

Footsteps thundered above, doors slammed, shouts rose. Then the sharp clang of the warning bell. I scrambled from the pile of threadbare cloth I used as a bed, bare feet slapping cold stone.

“Move!” someone shouted from above.

Then the cellar door burst open. Cold air and screams poured in.

“Ellie, on your feet!” Beta Dave stood at the top of the stairs, eyes wide, panting, breathless, silver streaks in his beard flashing in the torchlight. “You want to die down here?”

I scrambled up, bare feet slipping on stone. He tossed a bundle at me.

“Take these to the armory. Don’t drop a thing, girl.”

I clutched the bundle. In it were blades, silver-tipped arrows, rolled leather. And followed him into chaos.

I bolted across the courtyard, clutching my threadbare shawl around my arms. The courtyard was ablaze with motion, wolves snarling, warriors shouting. Pups were being shoved toward hidden cellars. Women screamed. Guards clashed steel against claw. It was a storm of fur and blood.

No one looked at me, no one told me where to go, no one shielded me from the fight.

I was invisible.

I passed two warriors dragging a bloodied friend off the battlefield. “They’re stronger than they should be!” one yelled. “This isn’t a skirmish, it’s an extermination!”

“Where’s the eastern flank?” someone shouted.

“Down!” a guard answered. “They tore through it in minutes”

Then I saw them.

The Crimson Fang warriors.

Wolves as large as bears, dark-furred and silent as death, swarmed through the Moonshade line like blades through water. Their formation was flawless. No unnecessary movement, no chaos on their side, just controlled, coordinated destruction.

I ducked under a falling beam, barely keeping hold of the crate I’d been handed, daggers, fangs, leather armor. My arms ached. No one offered to help.

No one ever did.

I staggered to the supply tent just as a young warrior, barely older than me, screamed and collapsed in front of it. Blood pooled from his side.

“Keep moving!” someone yelled.

A shadow passed overhead. I turned and froze.

A massive black wolf stood in the center of the courtyard, twice the size of any wolf I’d ever seen. He didn’t charge, he didn’t roar, he simply stood, calm, as if the chaos parted for him.

Then he shifted.

The air around him rippled with power as he transformed.

Tall, broad, jet-black hair slicked back, sharp, angular face, silver eyes like a frozen lake. The kind of man you couldn’t look away from. The kind that made people fall silent when he breathed.

Alpha Jovani of Crimson Fang Pack

My arms trembled under the weight of the weapons. I dropped them at the side of the armory and took a step back, hugging the shadows.

“Wesley Blake.” Alpha Jovani’s voice rolled like thunder across the courtyard. “Come out.”

Alpha Wesley emerged from the east wing, bruised and panting, sword dragging beside him. “This is Moonshade’s land,” he said.

Alpha Jovani didn’t blink. “And yet your warriors fall like leaves.”

“We…we didn’t start this,” Alpha Wesley said, lowering his blade slightly.

“No,” Jovani said coolly. “But you ended it the moment you sent scouts into Crimson Fang’s territory.”

Gasps rose. Even Alpha Wesley faltered. “That was a misunderstanding.”

Alpha Jovani didn’t blink. “And?”

“You can’t just…”

“I already did.” His voice wasn’t raised, but it carried like a whipcrack.

Alpha Wesley looked around at the wounded, the scattered guards, the silent mothers. His confidence crumbled. “We want peace.”

Alpha Jovani tilted his head. “Peace you say?”

A dozen Crimson Fang warriors emerged from the mist, surrounding the courtyard. They didn’t growl, they didn’t threaten. They just stood watching.

Alpha Jovani stepped forward. “You have one chance to make it right.

“Give her to me.”

Silence filled the air

I froze.

“Her?” Alpha Wesley asked. “Who?”

Alpha Jovani’s gaze shifted directly to me.

Silence filled the air and my breath caught.

Someone gasped, another voice whispered, “Ellie?”

“No,” Alpha Wesley said quickly. “She’s nothing. She’s a servant. A stain on this pack.”

Jovani’s silver eyes didn’t leave mine.

The pack murmured looking so confused and fearful.

Alpha Wesley snarled. “She’s the one who murdered our parents.”

“I know what she is,” Jovani said sharply. “Give her to me. Or we finish this in blood.”

Beta Dave stepped forward. “Alpha…”

“Quiet,”Alpha Wesley snapped. His jaw worked furiously. “Fine,” he spat. “Take the cursed thing. She’s nothing but trouble here.”

My heart pounded.

I didn’t move.

“Go,” Beta Dave hissed at me. “Get going, girl!”

My legs didn’t work.

“You heard him,” Alpha Wesley barked. “Go to your new master.”

Jovani stepped toward me now slowly and carefully.

And he extended a hand.

I looked at it, then at Alpha Wesley, at the wolves who’d mocked me, hurt me, broken me for years.

“Ellie,” he said quietly. “Come.”

I looked at Wesley one last time.

His lip curled. “Go ahead.”

And I stepped forward.

Slowly…so slowly, I took another step and crossed the line and the forest swallowed us whole.