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Chapter 22 - After the Fire
Last Updated:
2025-07-29 16:47:08
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Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 113 – Blood Owed
EliThe tug starts soft, like a thread caught on a nail. Not the bond. Ronan’s out with a patrol to the south and I can feel him steady and bright, a warm hum down my spine that says he’s fine and also that he’s going to be very displeased when he discovers I’m about to do something ill-advised.No, this tug is pack-scent gone sour. An itch under my tongue. The way the yard goes too quiet before a hawk drops. My wolf lifts its head and shows me teeth. Go, it says. Now.I don’t argue. I shove a small knife into my jacket and curse at my boots until they cooperate.My wolf pushes hard against my ribs. Left, it says.The west supply sheds sit past the tannery, where the wind normally does us a favor and carries stink away from the houses. I smell wolfsbane resin. Faint, like someone cracked a jar and closed it fast. I smell fear. I smell intent.And I smell Mara.Sharper than blood, steadier than iron. There’s anger braided through it today, a clean, bright wire.My hand goes to the kn
Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 112 – Fractures
MaraThe hard work after a war isn’t the burying. It’s the counting.I spend the morning with ledgers and discrepancies. Salt, grain, lamp oil, wolfsbane resin bricks, arrow shafts, dried meat, clean bandage rolls, spare bowstrings, iron nails. Every line should marry the next. Today they sleep in different beds.“Two crates of resin from the south cache,” Orrin says, tapping a quill at a neat column. “Transferred after the battle. Logged here.”The ink says yes. My nose says no. All I smell in the south shed is tallow, rawhide and pine-sap. None of the sharp-bitter sting resin leaves in the back of the throat that makes even the strongest wolves blink away tears.“Show me,” I say.Orrin’s been with me five winters. He’s square-shouldered, careful-handed, and, until this week, reliable. Inside the south shed, crates are stacked shoulder-high, lids chalked with the tidy block letters of quartermasters. I pry one open with my knife. Arrowheads nested in straw. The next, smoked venison.
Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 111 – The Bond Unleashed
RonanEli is wrecked and perfect.He lies spread across the runes he drew in charcoal, skin gleaming with sweat, streaked with blood where the knife’s kiss traced the marks from the book. Rope bites into his wrists, his thighs are spread wide and trembling. And still he offers.The wolf in me snarls possession so loud it nearly drowns out thought. I’ve seen him undone in rut, I’ve seen him begging with spit down his chin, I’ve seen him claw me bloody when I took him too hard to breathe. None of it touches this.This is glorious. Eli bound, trembling, blindfolded, bleeding for me, is true awe.The fire at the hearth gutters, then flares higher without my hand near it. The air hums. The runes burn faintly under his body, pulsing like a second heartbeat. Power thickens in the room, a taste of copper and storm. The book lies open at my side. One step left.I pick up the blade. His wolf shivers in my blood like it can sense what comes next. Eli whines, hips arching, straining toward me.
Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 110 – Bound to the Flame
EliRonan doesn’t move at first. He just lets the growl he promised vibrate through the room and through me, until the ropes hum with it, until world narrows down to what his hands decide.Leather whispers. Steel answers.The knife comes back to my skin like a kiss that forgot to learn manners. I flinch because I can’t see it, because my nerves are strung too tight and tuned to him, and his palm lands on my sternum, big and steady.“Breathe,” he says.I do. I fill my lungs with pine smoke from the hearth and him. The spice-salt of his sweat, the clean bite of soap, the darker thread that is just wolf. My chest rises under his hand. It presses me down as if to say good. Now stay.Cold meets heat where the book said it should. The flat of the blade slides from the hollow at the base of my throat to the knob of my sternum, over the rune he charcoaled there, then lower. I feel his attention map the path like a second knife. The blade bites deeper when it reaches the center of the rune and
Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 109 – Charcoal and Rope
EliThe ropes hum.Not literally, but that’s how it feels. Like someone strung my nerves across Ronan’s hands and tuned them too tight.I’m on my back on the cabin floor now. Runes scrawled in black charcoal all around me, thick lines curling across the boards like some ancient wolf dreamed them. They look crude, smudged, a little ridiculous. That doesn’t matter. My skin is the canvas he really wanted. The black dust streaks my chest, my hips, smears where his thumb pressed into me too hard while he drew.I wasn’t prepared for how erotic that would be. How it would set every cell of my body to quiver helplessly. How it would make me drool and beg, while Ronan mercilessly tells me to be a good boy so he can follow the instructions.I’m still bound. Arms stretched into the air by my wrists which are tied together, the rope looped around one of the beams overhead. Ankles lashed wide, soles pressed flat to the floor. My body stretched open like he’s presenting me to the gods. The blindf
Marked by the Alpha: Blood Oath Chapter 108 – Words in Old Ink
EliIt starts with a knock.Not the sharp rap of Jace’s impatience or Hazel’s cheerful chaos. This one is hesitant, knuckles glancing off the wood like they’re worried about being rude.I open the door to find Tamsin there, cheeks pink from the cold, a book pressed to her chest as if she’s hiding contraband. She’s one of the quieter ones in the pack, granddaughter of old Hilda who tells stories by the fire when the pups can’t sleep. Tamsin is practical, always with dirt under her nails from the gardens, but her eyes are bright with something today.“Can I...” She glances past me into the cabin, where Ronan is stretched out shirtless on the bed pretending to rest when he’s really glaring at paperwork. “Talk to you? Just you?”That gets my attention. I step out, pulling the door half-closed behind me. No pack member has ever come to our cabin looking for me rather than Ronan. “What’s wrong?”“Not wrong,” she whispers, then lowers the book a little. The cover is leather cracked with age
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