The Bond

Chapter 2

The Bond

After the imps scrubbed me clean, they told me I could soak for as long as I liked. I took them up on that offer, if only so I could be left alone, to conquer the swirling blizzard of thoughts and emotions inside.

I sank beneath the hot, milky water in hopes it would soothe me. It was deep enough for me to float; for my body to feel suspended in time and freed on a spiritual level. It would only last for as long as I could hold my breath, but I savored every second of being one with the water.

A lot had happened in the span of a month. My birthday was early April, and this year happened to be when I turned eighteen. It was that day when everything changed. In the early hours of the morning, I woke up and was overwhelmed by an intense sensation. It started in my chest, as though something within was trying to crack my ribs open and claw its way to freedom. Then it quickly spread through my veins, clouding any coherent thought in my head and making every nerve in my body excessively sensitive.

My soul felt like the heart of a fire and I had a feral urge to touch something. Someone. Someone in particular. I rubbed my thighs together, subdued the budding howl in my throat and called out for help instead. The wolf inside was officially merging with me, but she was also impatient.

I was very fortunate to have my friend, Amber, in the room next door. She came as soon as she heard me.

Amber Mooney was from another pack that had been decimated by Valefar. He had journeyed into various territories, poaching werewolves and converting them into obedient Hellhounds. He bound them with the infernal iron cuffs and manipulated them into doing his bidding.

Amber was only three years older than me and had been snatched from a neighboring pack a month or two before I joined the manor. Despite our different origins, she took me under her wing and grew to be a sister figure to me. Whenever I started to trust Valefar, whenever I thought he wasn't such a bad man because he fed me and granted me shelter, Amber reined me in and gently reminded me of what Valefar had taken from us. She told me stories about the Surface - about the things I had been too young to remember. About our wolf heritage and the life Valefar had stolen from us.

Amber was the one who let me know what was happening to me on my birthday.

“It’s your soul searching for your mate! Now that you are officially of age and have fully merged with the spirit of your own inner wolf, your body and heart are seeking the last thing they need before they are complete. Your mate!” She squealed with excitement and clapped her hands while I writhed in impassioned agony on the bed. I couldn't comprehend why she was celebrating my suffering.

Amber continued her explanation, trying hard to hide her giddiness. “All wolves go through it when we come of age, but the bond with your mate must be extremely strong for it to turn you this crazy! I barely felt anything when I turned eighteen, but I just assumed that meant I either didn’t have a fated mate or that the bond wasn’t very strong.”

“How do I make it stop!?” I cried out, switching between wringing my hands and combing my fingers through my hair.

“Well, normally you’d mate to complete the bonding. You have a 'bond' with someone right now, but you're not 'bonded' yet. Since that might not be on the cards for you, seeing as you said you feel pulled towards the Earth's Surface and not pulled towards somewhere in Hell, then you’ll just have to wait it out. It’ll pass when dawn breaks.” Amber affectionately rubbed my shoulder, but the news and her touch did little to stop my jitters and frustration.

She then smiled and pulled me into a half-hug. “You know, it’s very rare to feel a connection like this. I used to hear bedtime stories about wolves swimming across entire oceans, driven by the bond they shared with their mate, just to be able to look at each other if they couldn't at least touch. Finding a mate outside of your own pack is unusual enough, but for yours to transcend the prison of Hell itself is… well, you’re a bit of a miracle, Seraphine.”

Amber had stayed with me all night. She distracted me with snacks and held me tight when I wanted to scratch my own eyeballs out. I never would have survived my birthday if it wasn’t for her patience and unconditional love.

Leaving that memory in the past, I stepped out of the bathtub and wrapped a lilac towel around myself. I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my gaunt reflection with no rush to dry myself and get dressed. I knew I needed to talk to Amber about what Valefar had said. That he was going to breed me with the other Hellhounds so he could raise more pups.

The thought terrified me and I needed her counsel to keep me sane.

A deep breath helped me bury my nerves. There were other things I needed to tell her. More important things. I needed to tell her that I had met Renrik Duskborne, my mate. Maybe she had come across his name on the Surface, although that was doubtful. She had only been around six years old when she was captured by Valefar. Fortunately for her, others from her pack had been captured as well. Perhaps they would be familiar with the 'Duskborne' name.

I was the only 'Hellhound' in Hell that didn't have a single other member of my pack with me. The Celesta pack, my pack, had all been murdered. No-one knew why I wasn't slaughtered with the rest of them. I was labeled as Valefar's favorite by the others, but if that was true, he wouldn't have held a blade to my throat. He wouldn't be locking me away to endlessly breed a new army of Hellhounds.

Unable to put it off any longer, I dried myself and pulled on some fresh clothes. I would have to call one of Valefar’s imps to fetch Amber for me. They wouldn’t ask questions and we were all in the same house anyway. Valefar’s estate was huge, thanks to his Duke status, so all Hellhounds under his command lived in the West Wing.

When I opened the bathroom door, I was face to face with another wolf-turned-hellhound living in the mansion with me. One of the ones who claimed I was Valefar's favorite.

Diana Warfur stood with her hands on her hips and a storm brewing in her chillingly gray eyes. She was the prettiest wolf and woman in Valefar’s immediate entourage. Her long hair was a rich, dark brown that made me crave dark chocolate. Her body looked as though it had been sculpted by the Moon Goddess herself, with generous curves and a slender waist.

Diana carried herself like a queen and I never doubted for a second that if Valefar hadn’t wiped out most of her pack, she would have been a powerful and unrelenting Luna alongside a dutiful Alpha. Lamentably, when she turned eighteen, her soul was frigid and lifeless - the exact opposite to my experience. She may have merged with her inner wolf, but there was no fated mate waiting for her. She was completely alone and eternally incomplete.

Since that day, Diana’s confidence and queen-like demeanor had soured into bitter cruelty.

“You bitch!” She barked at me and the next thing I knew, my cheek was stinging from the slap Diana had landed on me.

I gingerly stroked my sore face and stared at her in confusion. “P-pardon?” What had I done to deserve that? And why shouldn't I strike her back?