Fractured Alliance

The ride to the border was silent except for the crunch of snow under hooves and the occasional growl from the wolves flanking us. My body still ached in the best and worst ways. Ronans cum dried on my inner thigh. My hole felt tender with every shift in the saddle. He rode ahead. Back rigid. Never once looking back. Like if he ignored me long enough the bond would finally snap.

It did not.

Every time the wind shifted his scent hit me harder. Dark pine. Smoke. And raw alpha musk. My wolf stirred restlessly beneath my skin. Wanting to press close. To submit. To bite. I hated how much I wanted it.

Thorne rode beside me. Jaw tight. "You look like hell." He muttered. "And you smell like him. What the fuck happened in that chamber?"

"Later." I said quietly. My side wound pulled with every breath. But it was healing faster than it should. Mate bond perks I guessed. Or curses.

Ronans beta. A scarred woman named Seline. Shot me a murderous glare every few minutes. The Shadowfang wolves outnumbered us three to one. But no one drew steel. Not yet.

We crested the ridge just as the sun bled red across the sky. The main outpost was a smoking ruin. Tents burned low. Bodies lay half buried in the snow. And the sharp copper tang of blood hung thick in the air. Garricks mark was everywhere. Black arrows with crimson fletching and the twisted rune of his pack carved into fallen logs.

Ronan swung off his horse first. Boots sinking into bloody slush. "Count the dead." He ordered. Voice like gravel. Then his gaze flicked to me. "You. With me."

I followed him through the wreckage. Thorne stayed close. Hand near his blade. Smart man.

Ronan crouched beside a dead Shadowfang scout. Fingers tracing a wound. "These cuts were not made by our wolves. Garrick is using something wrong. Dark magic stench."

I knelt a few feet away. Ignoring the way my muscles protested. "He has been experimenting for years. Blood rituals. Binding weaker wolves to his will. We lost three good fighters to it last winter."

Ronans amber eyes snapped to mine. "And you never thought to warn anyone?"

"Would you have listened?" I shot back. "Or would you have laughed while your wolves tore mine apart?"

He stood slowly. Towering over me. For a second I thought he would shove me into the snow. Instead he grabbed my arm and hauled me upright. Rough. But careful of my injured side.

"Do not bleed out before I decide what to do with you." He growled low enough that only I could hear.

My wolf preened at the contact. Traitor.

We moved deeper into the ruined camp. The bond thrummed between us. Warm and insistent. Like a second heartbeat. Every time our shoulders brushed heat flared low in my gut. I could still feel him inside me. Thick and relentless.

"Eamon." Thorne called sharply. "You good?"

I blinked. The world had gone fuzzy at the edges. A strange pressure built behind my eyes. Black fog creeping in. Not now. Not here.

"I am fine." I lied. Shaking it off.

Ronan noticed. Of course he did. His nostrils flared as he studied my face. "What was that?"

"Nothing."

"Liar." He stepped closer. Voice dropping. "Your scent changed. Like before the battle in the snow."

I swallowed hard. The blackouts had started months ago. Brief at first. Then longer. Moments where I lost time and woke with blood on my hands and no memory of how it got there. I had hidden it from everyone. Even Mira.

Before I could answer a Shadowfang warrior came running. "Alpha! Survivors. One of them is talking."

We followed him to a half collapsed tent. A young wolf. Barely twenty. Lay coughing blood. His eyes widened when he saw me.

"Stormridge butcher." He rasped.

Ronan crouched. Gripping the boys shoulder. "What did you see?"

"Garricks wolves. They were not normal. Eyes black. Moving wrong. They said. Said the bond between you two is the key. Break it. Break both packs."

The boys gaze slid to me again. "He killed you once. He will do it again."

Ronans hand tightened. I saw the old rage flicker across his face. But it did not stay. Something else fought it now. The same thing that had made him fuck me raw against the wall instead of slitting my throat.

The boy died before he could say more.

Silence fell heavy over the ruins. Ronan stood. Shoulders tight. "We pull back to my stronghold. Both packs. No arguments."

Thorne stepped forward. "You expect us to walk into Shadowfang territory after everything?"

"I expect you to want to live." Ronan snarled. "Garrick is playing us against each other. Again."

I met Ronans eyes. The bond pulsed stronger. Demanding. "Temporary alliance." I said. Echoing his words from the chamber. "We share information. We fight together. Then we decide what comes after."

He stared at me for a long moment. The air between us crackled. I could smell his arousal mixing with anger. Sharp. Addictive.

"Fine." He said finally. "But you stay close. Eamon. Where I can watch you."

The way he said my name sent heat licking down my spine.

As we mounted up to leave the black fog returned without warning. The world tilted. I tasted ash and old blood. For a split second I saw Ronans face from years ago. Eyes wide with betrayal as my claws tore into him.

Then it was gone.

I swayed in the saddle. Ronan was suddenly beside me. Steadying my horse with one hand while the other gripped my thigh hard.

"Blackout?" He asked. Too quiet for the others.

I did not answer. Could not.

His jaw flexed. "We are going to talk about this. Tonight."

The promise in his voice was dark. Equal parts threat and hunger. The bond tightened around us like a chain made of fire and moonlight.

Whatever came next. We were in it together now. Whether we wanted to kill each other or fuck each other senseless. The line between the two was getting harder to see.

And Garrick was counting on that.