A Fatal Bond

Chapter 03 - Mate?

Dante

“They had the audacity to think I wouldn’t recognize fake diamonds,” I said, my voice low and smooth, too calm for the storm brewing beneath my skin. The stone caught the dim light of the chandelier, but its shine was dull, empty. It wasn’t even close to real.

“I gave traded them my weapons, and they pay me with this rubbish.” I dropped it back into the velvet-lined chest, the soft thud louder in my ears than it should’ve been.

Behind me, Cathal stood silently by the door, arms folded as he watched me. His face, so stoic as though it was carved from stone, waiting for my next order.

“Get the carriage ready. We’re going to Club Pandemonium.”

“Yes, Alpha.” He dipped his head in a short, tight bow. “I’ll ready the men—”

“No.” I cut him off before he finished his sentence. My tone didn’t change, but the energy in the room shifted. “I can handle this.”

His jaw twitched. “Alpha, the undercity is crawling tonight. No protection means open doors for your enemies to attack you.”

I turned slightly, enough to let him feel my stare. “Are you calling me weak, Cathal?”

He didn’t flinch. “Never, Boss. Just… looking out.”

I said nothing as I turned away and walked to the tall windows, my boots silent against the polished floor. Outside, the night stretched like a blanket over the land. The trees in the forest swayed, whispering secrets to the wind. Beyond them, in the distance, the flickering lights of Club Pandemonium pulsed like a dying star—blue, red, then nothing, then blue again.

“I don’t need your concern,” I said, still staring out. “I need my weapons back. And my diamonds.”

The silence behind me said he understood.

I grabbed my hat off the hook beside the door. The black felt was soft between my fingers. Then I picked up my dagger from the desk—steel, curved, and designed with precious stones—and slid it into my belt with a satisfying hiss of leather.

I walked out of the office and Cathal fell in behind me, like a shadow returning home.

The damp night air hit us as we stepped outside, and the faint scent of rain clung to the trees. The gravel crunched beneath our boots as we approached the waiting carriage.

The four-seater was black, trimmed with gold. The horses were restless as if they could sense what was coming, and their breath came out in puffs.

I climbed into the back without a word while Cathal took the reins.

Soon, the forest thinned behind us and the trees gave way to rot and ruin.

The undercity.

The smell of blood, smoke, sewage, and desperation hung heavy in the air. It curled into the carriage like a ghost, thick and metallic.

I leaned back against the seat, eyes half-closed, but my mind was sharp. The closer we got, the louder the music grew—deep bass, muffled screams, the kind of sound that promised blood behind closed doors.

And I smiled.

But only on the inside.

The carriage rolled to a slow stop near a cracked alley wall, half-hidden in shadow. Club Pandemonium loomed just ahead; loud, pulsing with smoke and sweat, like it was alive and hungry. The building flickered with red lights, strobing like a warning. People lined the walls. Drunks. Dealers. Dead-eyed girls.

But no one looked twice at our carriage.

I leaned forward slightly, peering out from under the brim of my hat.

And there he was.

Jax.

The snake who handed me fake stones like I was some back-alley amateur. He leaned against the club wall, smoking something cheap, laughing like he didn’t have a death sentence carved into his skin.

I tapped two fingers lightly against the side of the carriage. Cathal followed my eyes, gave a slow nod, and jumped down. His movement was like smoke, silent and fast.

As soon as Jax saw him, his smile dropped and the cigarette hit the ground. He turned to run, but Cathal was faster. In three strides, he caught him by the collar and slammed him hard against the brick wall.

“Don’t—please! It wasn’t me!” Jax spat, legs kicking as Cathal dragged him like a bag of trash into the alley.

I stepped down slowly from the carriage. The streetlight above blinked, casting shadows across my face as I walked into the alley behind them.

Jax froze when he saw me. His breath hitched.

That was always my favorite part—the moment they realized they’d miscalculated.

“Fake diamonds, Jax?” I said softly, brushing invisible dust from my coat. “That’s a bold move.”

“I—I didn’t know! I swear on my mother—”

“Your mother’s been dead ten years.” I took a step closer and unsheathed my dagger. The blade caught the light, and the stones glimmered. “Try again.”

He whimpered. “It was my boss. He told me to switch them. I didn’t want to—”

“Then consider this a message… for your boss.”

I stepped in, using one hand to hold his face as I steadied him. Then I dragged the tip of my dagger across his cheek. Not deep—just enough to bleed. Enough to scar.

The sound was soft, like slicing fruit, and I watched as his blood ran down his face.

He screamed and tried to gree himself, but Cathal held him like iron.

“Tell him I want my weapons. And the real diamonds as compensation for wasting my time,” I said, low enough that only he could hear. “And next time, I won’t be carving warnings.”

I wiped the blade on his shirt and turned to leave as Cathal let him drop like a rag doll . Jax slumped to the ground, clutching his face and sobbing.

I headed back toward the carriage, but then I heard a sound.

A voice that sounded strained and angry

“Let me go! Don’t touch me!”

My steps paused.

Down the far end of the alley, dimly lit by a flickering sign, a man was forcing a woman against the wall. She wasn’t dressed like a street girl. She looked clean, and proud.

I wanted to leave as it was none of my business, but I watched as she kicked, scratched, and fought the man like her life depended on it. Her attacker was stronger and bigger. He snarled, pinning her tighter.

“Boss, we have to—“

I silenced Cathal with a raise of my finger as I watched the woman shove at his chest again. Then the man growled and raised his claw hand, ready to slice her throat.

“Cathal,” I said without looking back. “Stop him.”

Cathal didn’t ask questions. He vanished into the dark like a bullet.

I followed slowly, one hand resting on the hilt of my dagger as my boots echoed against the pavement.

As I turned the corner, Cathal already had the man pinned, his arm twisted behind his back, snarling into the bricks.

I walked towards them slowly, my eyes locked on the woman.

She was on the ground, gasping, but not broken. Her green eyes burned with fury. Her black hair was tangled, and her dress torn at the shoulder. There was a thin cut along her collarbone—but she hadn’t cried.

She looked up at me, and time stopped.

My pulse slowed, and my breathe caught in my throat.

Sounds faded, and the lights dimmed.

Her scent—wild, earthy, tinged with blood and danger—hit me like a punch to the chest. She wasn’t human.

She was mine.

My mate.

The bond surged like lightning through my veins, unwanted yet unstoppable.

All these years without a weakness, and now the gods gave me a mate?

My jaw clenched and everything else around me disappeared. The club, the man, even Cathal.

Only her remained.

And she looked at me like I was the enemy. Like she was ready to fight me, too.