Chapter 3 CHAPTER 3
Elowen gasped, clutching the table to steady herself. The pressure vanished as quickly as it had come, leaving her shaking.
“I—I’m sorry,” she whispered, horrified. “I didn’t mean—”
The hall doors slammed open.
Darius strode in, power rolling off him in waves. His eyes swept the room, instantly locking onto Elowen.
“What happened?”
No one spoke.
His gaze sharpened, dangerous. “I asked a question.”
“She didn’t do anything,” one of the she-wolves said quickly. “We just… startled her.”
Darius’s eyes flicked back to Elowen. The bond tugged painfully, urging her toward him, begging for connection.
He took one step closer—then stopped himself.
“Go,” he said quietly. “Back to your quarters.”
Shame burned her throat. She nodded and left, the weight of dozens of stares pressing into her back.
That night, Elowen dreamed.
She stood beneath a moon far larger than any she had ever seen, its light pouring into her veins like liquid silver. Chains wrapped around her wrists—mate bonds, heavy and glowing—but when she pulled, they cracked.
Not yet, a voice whispered. Ancient. Feminine. Powerful.
But soon.
She woke with a gasp, heart racing, silver light still flickering faintly in her eyes.
Outside her window, the moon hung low and watchful.
Elowen pressed her forehead to the cool stone and whispered into the night, so softly no one could hear.
“If you chose me,” she said, voice breaking, “then teach me how to survive it.”
The moon did not answer.
But far away, in his own chambers, Darius Blackthorn jolted awake with a snarl, his chest burning where the bond pulled tight—aching with a pain he refused to name.
And somewhere deep within Elowen Nightvale, something ancient smiled.
The days that followed settled into a quiet kind of cruelty.
Elowen learned the rhythm of it quickly—the way the pack looked through her as if she were a ghost, or stared too long as if she were a spectacle. The way conversations shifted when she entered a space. The way her name carried a new weight, spoken softly or not at all.
The Alpha’s mate.
Never Elowen.
The bond did not help.
It pulsed constantly now, no longer a sharp pain but a deep, unrelenting pressure, like a second heartbeat lodged beneath her ribs. When Darius was near, it warmed. When he was far, it ached. When his emotions spiked—anger, frustration, grief—it burned.
She felt it all.
And he felt her.
That much became clear on the fourth morning.
Elowen was scrubbing the stone steps outside the council hall when dizziness swept over her without warning. Her knees buckled, brush clattering from her hands. She caught herself against the wall, breath coming too fast, too shallow.
The bond twisted violently.
Something’s wrong.
The thought wasn’t hers.
It slammed into her mind with alpha force, sharp and demanding. Elowen gasped, clutching her chest as a surge of foreign panic flooded her senses.
“No—please—” she whispered, terrified.
Footsteps thundered toward her.
Darius appeared in front of her in a blur of motion, eyes blazing silver-gray, control barely leashed. His hands hovered inches from her shoulders, trembling as if he didn’t trust himself to touch her.
“What’s happening?” he demanded.
“I—I don’t know,” she said weakly. “I just felt dizzy.”
His jaw clenched. “You’re lying.”
The bond pulsed, echoing his accusation—and her fear.
“I’m not,” she insisted, voice shaking. “I swear.”
He searched her face, something raw flickering in his eyes. Whatever he saw there made his expression harden with self-directed fury.
“Kael!” he barked.
The beta appeared instantly. One look at Elowen, pale and shaking, and his brows drew together.
“She’s overwhelmed,” Kael said carefully. “The bond’s still stabilizing.”
Darius’s nostrils flared. “Then why did I feel like she was dying?”
Elowen froze.
Kael glanced between them, realization dawning. “Because you’re still connected whether you want to be or not.”
Silence fell.
Darius stepped back abruptly, as if burned. “Get her to the healer.”
“I can walk,” Elowen said quickly, mortified.
Darius didn’t respond. He turned away, fists clenched, shoulders rigid.
As Kael helped her up, Elowen couldn’t stop the words from slipping out, small and aching. “I didn’t mean to trouble him.”
Kael’s grip tightened slightly on her arm. “You didn’t,” he said quietly. “He troubled himself.”
The healer confirmed what Kael suspected: emotional overload. Too much suppression. Too much rejection.
“The bond needs acknowledgment,” the healer said bluntly. “Not consummation—acknowledgment. Or it will keep lashing out.”
Darius stood rigid at the foot of the cot. “I won’t mark her.”
Elowen’s heart dropped.
“That’s not what I said,” the healer snapped. “Sit with her. Speak to her. Accept that she exists.”
Darius said nothing.
Finally, the healer rolled her eyes and shooed Kael out. “Five minutes,” she said, pointing at Darius. “Don’t make me regret this.”
The door closed.
The silence between them felt heavier than ever.
Elowen stared at her hands, refusing to look up. If she met his eyes, she might beg. And she would rather bleed than beg.
“I don’t hate you,” Darius said suddenly.
Her breath hitched.
“That doesn’t make this easier,” he continued. “It makes it worse.”
She swallowed. “Because you feel guilty?”
“Because I feel trapped,” he answered honestly.
The bond reacted instantly, pain flaring sharp and bright. Elowen gasped, curling inward. Darius hissed through his teeth, one hand flying to his chest.
“Stop,” she whispered. “Please—don’t say it like that.”
He looked at her then, really looked—and something in his expression cracked.
“You deserve someone who wants you,” he said quietly. “Not someone who resents the moon for choosing you.”
Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them back. “And she deserves someone who doesn’t belong to someone else.”
The name went unspoken between them.
Darius closed his eyes. For the first time since the Moon Calling, his voice broke. “She was my future.”
Elowen nodded slowly. “And I’m your punishment.”
He flinched as if struck.
“No,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not.”
But he didn’t say what she was.
When the healer returned, Darius left without another word.
That night, Elowen wandered beyond the pack’s edge.
She didn’t know why—only that the walls felt too close, the whispers too loud. The forest welcomed her with cool air and rustling leaves, moonlight painting silver paths between the trees.
She sank to her knees in a small clearing, exhaustion finally overwhelming her.
“Why me?” she whispered, tears slipping free at last. “What am I supposed to do with a bond that only hurts?”
The air shifted.
