Bound By Moonlight

Bound By Moonlight

last updateLast Updated : 2025-10-15
By:  Ashley SheeksUpdated just now
Language: English
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When Emry’s wolf has yet to awaken, she’s forced under the watch of her brother’s Beta—Braxton, the man she hates most. But beneath moonlight, a dangerous truth stirs: they are fated. Bound by destiny, divided by pride, their war may ignite a love that burns.

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Chapter 1

The hunt

Chapter One: The Hunt

The forest was alive, a restless hush carrying through the skeletal branches. Emry padded silently,

breath clouding in the crisp night air. She had no wolf yet—her eighteenth birthday was still weeks

away—but that didn’t stop Eastin from dragging her into patrols as though she could do anything if

danger came.

Her brother stood ahead in the clearing, posture tall and commanding, the weight of Alpha settling on

his shoulders like it had always belonged there. The moon caught the lines of his jaw, the hard glint of

his blue-gray eyes. Eastin was only a year older than her, but the difference between seventeen and

eighteen felt like a chasm. He had his wolf. He had his authority. He had the loyalty of the pack.

And standing at his side, as always, was Braxton.

The Beta. The shadow. The blade.

Emry’s stomach turned. His presence was a constant irritation, a reminder of everything she lacked.

And yet, she couldn’t ignore the way her skin prickled whenever he was near.

“You took your time,” Eastin said as she stepped into the clearing.

Emry smirked. “Had to make sure the forest was safe for you.”

Her brother’s mouth twitched, but Braxton’s expression didn’t change. Those amber eyes tracked her

every step, sharp and unreadable.

She hated that gaze. Hated how it seemed to strip her bare.

“You should be quicker,” Braxton said at last, voice low, steady. “If something comes for you, hesitation

is death.”

The words were simple, but something beneath them coiled tight, like he wasn’t just talking about

patrols.

Emry bristled. “Not all of us have the luxury of a wolf yet, Beta.”

His lips curved—not a smile, not really. More like the ghost of one. “No,” he murmured. “Not yet.”

She stiffened, but Eastin cut in before the sparks between them could flare. “Enough. We’re here to

work, not to bicker.” He looked between them with a sigh that carried the weight of years. “Moon above,

you two are exhausting.”

Emry crossed her arms. Braxton said nothing, but his silence felt heavier than words.

Eastin shifted his gaze back to his sister, his expression softening. “You’ll have your wolf soon, Em.

Then things will change. You’ll feel it.”

Something flickered across Braxton’s face, so quick she almost missed it. His jaw clenched, his

shoulders taut. She wondered what Eastin meant—what, exactly, she was supposed to feel.

But she didn’t ask. She wouldn’t give either of them the satisfaction.

Instead, she tilted her chin up and turned away, muttering, “Can we get on with this?”

They set off, Eastin in the lead, Braxton close behind. Emry stayed between them, though she would

rather have been anywhere else. Every step pressed her closer to the threshold she could not yet

see—the moment her wolf would awaken, the moment she would understand what Braxton already knew.

And he did know.

The bond thrummed in his blood, ancient and merciless. Every breath she took pulled at him, every glance cut deeper than steel. His wolf howled for her, clawing at the cage of his ribs.

But she was still unawakened. Still blind. Still free to hate him without realizing why.

So Braxton said nothing. He kept his mask in place, teeth gritted against the pull, and walked at her

side like the Beta he was supposed to be.

But deep inside, beneath the weight of duty and silence, a promise burned:

Soon.

---

They moved through the trees in practiced silence, Eastin leading with the confidence of an Alpha

already settled into his role. His wolf was a constant hum just beneath the surface, ready, watchful.

Emry trailed just behind him, her own senses sharpened as much as they could be without a wolf of her own. She hated the reminder. Every crunch of leaves beneath her boots screamed her inadequacy.

Braxton brought up the rear, though his presence felt closer than shadows. Always too close. Always

there.

The forest thickened as they descended into a hollow where the air was damp and the night sounds hushed. Emry slowed, nerves prickling. The silence was wrong.

“Something’s here,” she whispered.

Eastin lifted his hand, signaling them to halt. His eyes glowed faintly in the moonlight as his wolf

pressed against his skin. He tilted his head, listening.

That’s when the growl came—low, guttural, and not from their pack.

Emry’s heart leapt into her throat. Rogue.

Before she could react, a blur of fur and fangs lunged from the undergrowth.

Eastin shifted in a heartbeat, his wolf exploding forward to meet the attack. The clash was

violent—snarls and snapping jaws, fur and blood flying.

Emry staggered back, pulse thundering. She had no wolf. No claws. No fangs. Just useless human

skin.

Another rogue broke from the shadows, eyes feral, hunger sharp. It came for her.

Emry’s scream tore free—only to be cut short as Braxton was suddenly there, between her and the

beast. His shift was brutal, bones snapping, fur bursting through skin, his wolf larger and darker than Eastin’s.

The rogue slammed into him, and the two tumbled across the ground in a flurry of teeth and rage.

“Braxton!” Emry cried, taking an instinctive step forward, torn between terror and the inexplicable urge to throw herself into the fight.

His wolf moved with lethal precision, strength honed by years of training. Within moments the rogue lay

broken, its whimpers fading into silence. Braxton stood over it, chest heaving, fur bristling, amber eyes glowing like fire.

When he turned toward her, Emry froze.

For one dizzying heartbeat, she swore she felt something stir inside her—something not yet born but reaching, clawing toward him. Her chest tightened, her skin burning as though tethered to his.

Braxton’s wolf stilled. His eyes locked on hers, and in them was something raw, something barely

contained. His wolf knew her. Recognized her.

The bond screamed inside him, near unbearable. She was his.

But Emry only felt confusion, her breath ragged, her body trembling as if she’d touched a flame without

knowing why it burned.

Eastin padded back, his wolf bloodied but victorious. He shifted quickly, standing tall once more, eyes

scanning the clearing. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, grabbing Emry’s arm.

She shook her head, still staring at Braxton. “I—I’m fine.”

Braxton shifted back, skin steaming in the cold air. He stood naked and unbothered by it, muscles slick

with sweat, eyes never leaving her.

“You shouldn’t be out here without your wolf,” he said, voice guttural, raw from the shift. “Next time, you won’t get so lucky.”

Emry’s spine snapped straight, anger flaring to cover the strange shiver in her chest. “I didn’t ask you to save me.”

Braxton’s mouth twisted, half a smirk, half a snarl. “Didn’t have to.”

Eastin stepped between them, sharp gaze flicking from one to the other. “Enough. We’re heading

back.”

But even as Emry turned away, her skin still tingled where Braxton’s eyes had burned into her. And

Braxton, despite every effort, couldn’t stop watching her retreat, knowing the truth she had yet to

discover—

That she was already his.

---

The walk back to the pack house was suffocating. The woods seemed louder now—the hiss of wind in

the branches, the snap of twigs beneath their boots, the lingering copper tang of blood clinging to the

air.

Emry kept her eyes forward, refusing to glance at Braxton. Every step she felt him behind her, solid,

steady, silent. His presence pressed against her skin, an unshakable reminder of what had just

happened.

Of how close she’d come to dying. Of how quickly he had thrown himself between her and the rogue.

Of the strange, searing pull that still throbbed in her chest whenever she thought of his eyes locked on

hers.

By the time the pack house rose from the trees—an old stone and timber fortress lit by lanterns and the

warm glow of firelight—her nerves were raw.

Eastin pushed through the door first, his Alpha aura flaring enough that the younger wolves who

crowded the common room lowered their heads instantly. He was bloodied but unbowed, and they

looked at him with a respect that had only grown in the weeks since he’d taken the mantle.

Emry stepped in after him, and the stares shifted—curious, assessing, heavy with questions she was

too tired to answer. She hated it.

And then Braxton entered.

The murmurs stilled. Wolves straightened instinctively, their spines rigid as if his presence alone demanded it. Where Eastin’s authority commanded openly, Braxton’s power simmered in silence, dangerous in its restraint.

He ignored them all. His gaze never strayed far from her.

Eastin’s hand came to rest briefly on her shoulder as he led her toward the staircase. “You’re sure

you’re not hurt?” His voice had softened, but there was steel beneath it.

“I told you I’m fine,” she said, sharper than she meant.

Eastin studied her for a moment, as if trying to read something in her face, before nodding and turning

away to address the pack.

Emry started up the stairs, desperate for the solitude of her room, but the faint scrape of boots behind her stopped her cold. She turned sharply, heart thudding, to find Braxton at the base of the steps, watching her.

Amber eyes, unblinking. Steady. Too steady.

“I don’t need your pity,” she hissed, keeping her voice low enough that Eastin wouldn’t hear. “Or your

shadow at my back. Stay out of my way.”

Braxton’s jaw flexed, but he didn’t rise to her bite. Instead, he leaned one shoulder against the banister, gaze never wavering. “You think I do this out of pity?” His voice was quiet, a dangerous rasp. “You have no idea, Emry.”

Her pulse spiked, confusion and something sharper twisting in her chest. She wanted to demand what

he meant, but his expression told her she’d get no real answer. Not tonight.

So she turned and climbed, each step heavier than the last, the echo of his words burning in her ears.

Down below, Braxton remained where she’d left him, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the shadows of the

stairwell. His wolf snarled in his chest, aching to claim what was his. But he swallowed it down, burying the truth she wasn’t ready for.

Not yet.

Eastin’s voice rang across the hall as he addressed the pack, but Braxton heard none of it. His focus

stayed locked on the girl disappearing into the dark above.

His Alpha’s sister. His enemy. His fated ma

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