First Heartbreak

ELARA'S POV

His claws hovered just inches from my throat.

I gulp. 

My eyes were wide with fear, and if I so much as breath wrongly…I'm dead. And the man who held my life in his hands was no other person than—

Alpha Draven Blackthorn of Ironfang.

*****

The moon bled tonight as I watched Ironfang and my pack—Thornshade after years of hatred clash as swords and claws tear down flesh. The packs had never stood on the same ground without blood being spilled. But today, they were fighting a common enemy.

The Grand Alpha had called a council meeting because of the rogue wolf known as Volkava whose recent attacks had gotten bolder. I went with my brother, Anton, who is the Beta to our Alpha— Mateo Thornshade.

As I stood behind Anton, the ironfang wolves sat opposite us, their dark armor glinting under the lights. They radiated violence, and I could feel their aura from here—like predators barely restraining the urge to lunge at us. Their Alpha hadn't arrived yet.

And then, there he was—walking in with his Beta. 

Alpha Draven Blackthorn of Ironfang—born from the bloodline said to descend from the first wolf of war.

The man commanded presence. All eyes were on him as he strode in gracefully, broad shoulders cutting through the air looking like an untouchable god dropped into mortal skin—like sin carved into flesh; his facial features bore the kind of structure that would seem like sculptors bled themselves dry to imitate. 

He had a jaw cut from marble, cheekbones sharp enough to wound, and his eyes as he looked at Mateo—Gosh!!

Intense grey-blue— stormy, seeming to have a mix of danger and allure. For a minute, I forgot how to breathe. The man's aura was obviously heavy with dominance, and it made the other Alphas stiffen.

Even his wild and untamed midnight-dark hair clung in damp strands around his face, couldn't hide that predator’s elegance. Alpha Draven wasn’t just handsome. He was ruinously beautiful. 

His eyes met Mateo's again and I could sense pure anger and disgust reverberating between them.

Years ago before I was born—the Ironfang pack betrayed us when Mateo's father was Alpha and best friends with Draven's father. The story said they abandoned us when war came, and turned on us. It was said that we were the greatest force to ever exist— when Ironfang and Thornshade came together…no force could defeat them but now we're divided, hatred runs deep from each side, and it's been a silent war between both packs ever since.

My father fought in that war.

The meeting began as the Grand Alpha’s voice echoed through the hall. “We are here to discuss the creatures unleashed by the rogue wolf Volkava. He uses black magic— something ancient, something forbidden— and whatever source he's using…it's feeding on various packs' energy. The Hollowpack was recently attacked and was almost destroyed…”

I turned to look at the Hollowpack Alpha who's head was slightly bent.

”...We need to come together for a plan or it will consume us all,” the Grand Alpha continued.

Murmurs rose. The hall descends into voices and opinions. 

Then Draven began to speak. “Ironfang stands alone. We need no allies to destroy a single abomination...”

I bend to whisper to Anton about the man's overbearing pride when it hits me…

A dark scent— earthy, electric, and addictive, crashing into me with a force that almost knocked the air out of my lungs. I suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time. My chest burned.

My knees nearly buckled as a rush of warmth flood my veins setting my entire body on fire. It felt foreign yet achingly familiar. I gripped my brother's chair to steady myself.

The world bled away.

No sound. No faces. Just him and the pull between us—a pull deep in my chest, the sacred thread stretching between our souls. My wolf stretched out inside me, surging with joy, but my heart clenched tight, torn between awe and terror. 

I feel his heartbeat echo inside my chest, his breath as if it were mine. The ancient rhythm that bound mates through the will of the Moon Goddess—

The mate bond.

No… no, not him. Anyone but him.

The entire hall must have felt the pull of the mate bond because they're all looking between us with shocked expressions. His eyes met mine. I was in utter shock. 

I could literally see smoke coming out of my brother's ears but it was nothing compared to what the man I was mated to was emitting. Without second thoughts, he said.

“I, Alpha Draven Blackthorn, reject this bond.” 

The pain came instantly, spreading through my chest like wild fire trying to consume me from inside. My wolf howled—broken and frantic. She clawed inside me.

I staggered back,air refusing to fill my lungs as his rejection had stolen the very air from me. My vision blurred. It wasn't just my heart ripping—my soul was tearing in two.

“Elara!” Anton’s voice reached me, but distantly, like through water.

The bond snapped. I felt it—a violent rip, a phantom cord wrenched from my very core. 

I felt crushed. Tears stung my eyes.

It was like an echo of a hollow pit, deep and endless. I wanted to scream, but I bit down the pain, my nails digging into my palms as I forced myself upright. 

Don't cry, Elara.

I would not cry. Not before him.

I met Draven's gaze, he didn’t even look away. His expression…ice cold. “The goddess made a mistake. Ironfang does not mate with Thornshade filth.”

The audacity of this man….

“Then so be it.” I said, my voice quavering a little.

I will not let this man think I'm weak…I will not be— the doors explode. Dark figures flood the room—eyes glowing red, carrying the scent of rot and blood.

Volkava's beasts.

They attacked in numbers. Draven was the first to move. He rose like a storm unleashed, Ironfang warriors shifted mid-leap, claws and fangs meeting black magic and bone. My brother and Mateo followed as did Thronshade wolves, our howls merging with theirs in a brutal dance of survival.

Despite years of hatred, instinct took over—wolves against hideous beasts. I was in awe watching our packs fight alongside each other.

A shrapnel from a shattered claw tears my flesh. 

“Fuck!” 

I press a trembling hand against the bleeding wound. I'll heal it later. It was nothing fatal, but still, the pain anchors me in the chaos.

I should never have been here.

And yet, here I am—no warrior, no fighter—just a healer scared out of her goddamn mind searching for my brother. 

A scream pulls at me.

Anton.

He’s surrounded, three creatures closing in, their forms were a twisted mockery of wolves, their bodies had runes all over, their eyes glowing red. My feet carried me without thinking. I see the strike before it happens—the massive beast’s claws lands a blow across Anton’s chest, sending him flying backward with a snarl of pain.

“Anton!” My voice rips from my throat as I fall beside him. 

His blood steams against the cold earth. I quickly press my hands to the wound, whispering faster, and desperate. Just when I noticed his breath start to even—I didn't see the beast lunging at me, jaws gaping wide to consume—only to collapse as Draven's blade pierced its heart. 

For a moment, he stood between me and death. His Intense grey-blue eyes meet mine as his claws rise, blood dripping, gleaming in the dying light—meant for me.

Time holds still.

His claws—inches from my throat. 

My lips part, a whisper barely audible over the wind.

“Please…”

His breath catches. I see the war flicker in his eyes. He steps back slowly, his claws retracting, every muscle in his body—rigid, his jaw tight with loathing. 

Then he turns and disappears into the fog. I breathe a sigh of relief. I didn't realize I'd been holding my breath.