I do

Celestine 

The towering stained-glass windows, depicting the Moon Goddess in all her divine cruelty, cast fragmented rays of light across the polished marble floor. 

“Do you, Alpha Killian Storm, take Celestine St. Vireaux  as your wife?”

The first time I felt Killian Storm, I was seventeen. The mate bond settled into my bones like a promise. A pull so deep, so unshakable, I thought the Moon Goddess herself had reached into my chest and tied me to him.

I was foolish enough to think it was a gift.

The day I turned eighteen, the bond exploded inside me, a fire so consuming, I thought I’d burst into flames if I didn’t find him.

So I did.

I stood before Killian Storm—Alpha heir, strongest of our generation, the man I had spent years loving from a distance—and I told him the truth.

I could have severed the mate bond after that day. I could have spoken the words, cut the tie, and freed myself. But I didn’t. I clung to it instead. Let it fester, let it remind me of what a fool I was. Because deep down—I wanted him to suffer. I wanted him to feel what I felt. To ache the way I ached.

Two years ago, after Killian rejected me, I left everything behind. I ran. Not just from him, but from the entire pack. At first, I didn’t know where I was going. I just knew I had to disappear.

Being rejected by your fated mate isn’t just humiliating—it’s painful. The bond doesn’t just snap cleanly. It lingers. It festers. The aching pull toward him never truly fades.

For months, it felt like I was living with an open wound like a piece of me had been ripped away. But I survived. I built a life outside the pack. Away from werewolves, away from fate, away from him.

I suffered alone.

And now—now, when I have nothing left to give—

He shows up knocking in front of my door, ready to ruin me all over again.

“I do.”

A gasp catches in my throat. The mate bond, frayed but still alive, slams against me like a wave. He said it. He claimed me. After two years of silence, of emptiness, of aching loss— he just took me back like I never had a choice to begin with.

I want to hate him. I do hate him.

But the mate bond doesn’t care. The mate bond remembers. It remembers his touch. His scent. His presence. It remembers that I once loved him.

And worst of all? It still craves him.

My chest tightens as the officiant turns to me.

“And do you, Celestine St. Vireaux  , take Alpha Killian Storm as your husband?”

For two years, I stayed hidden. I carved out a life where no one knew my name. Where no one whispered about the mate who had thrown me away. Where I could be someone else. And then, one night— They found me. The Black River Pack.

Rogues. Criminals. Mercenaries.

A pack that doesn’t take prisoners unless they’re useful.  And to them? A runaway Alpha’s daughter? I was very useful. I fought. I ran. I bled. But in the end? I lost. I was bound in silver. Dragged through the dirt. Thrown into a cage like a feral animal. For the first time in two years, I felt real fear. Because the Black River Pack wasn’t just ruthless. They were businessmen. And I knew exactly what they planned to do with me.

That’s when Killian found me and gave me a deal.

My pulse pounds as I stare at him, my unwanted husband. His rejection nearly destroyed me. I spent two years trying to erase him from my life, and now here I am, bound to him in the worst possible way. A contract. A claim. A marriage of necessity. Not love. Never love. My lips part, my breath shaking.

I am supposed to say it next. The words feel like ash on my tongue.

I can’t do this. I have to fight. I have to—

The entire hall is waiting. Killian is waiting. His gaze flicks to my wrist—he knows. And that’s what finally breaks me. The realization that Killian Storm is allowing this. That he is not here to save me. That he is here to claim me.

My lips tremble. My heart slams against my ribs. And then, in a voice I don’t even recognize, I say it.

“I do.”

The moment the words leave my lips, I regret them. But it’s done.

I do.

Two syllables, two chains snapping into place around my throat. I don’t feel relief. I don’t feel anything but the weight of a decision that was never truly mine.

The officiant’s voice is a distant murmur, blending into the murmurs and rustling silks of the gathered pack.

“With these vows exchanged, I now pronounce you husband and wife.”

My stomach twists.

My fingers go numb.

The officiant turns toward the pack, his voice ringing out like a hammer striking an anvil.

“And with this union, I present to you your Luna. You may now give her your mark.”

One by one, heads lower. Some willingly. Some hesitantly. And some? Some don’t bow at all. I see them. The ones who still remember. The ones who watched Killian throw me away. The ones who don’t understand why I’m here now. Why take back the mate he rejected? Why claim the woman he once discarded?

Killian lowers his head. And for a moment—**just a moment—**I think he’s going to kiss me. But instead—he buries his face in my neck. A sharp inhale. A breath so slow, so deep, I feel it down to my bones. His nose skims the column of my throat, and before I can react, I feel his fangs sinking into my flesh.

I gasp, choking on nothing, my head snapping back. Tears prickle at my lashes, sliding down my cheeks before I can stop them. The bond surge through my veins like wildfire.

Then, Killian tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. And with the faintest, cruelest smirk, he murmurs— "Welcome home, little mate."