Bound by Blood

The morning after the council meeting, Blackwood was a wound trying to heal. Ash still drifted in the air, clinging to the trees, the stones, the wolves who passed with eyes too tired to be sharp. Every breath carried the weight of what we’d lost. Every sound felt heavy with ghosts.

I stood at the edge of the training yard, my boots sinking into packed dirt stained with yesterday’s blood. Wolves sparred in pairs, their movements fluid and brutal, claws flashing, teeth snapping. Others fought in human form, trading blows with fists and blades. They moved with a lethal grace that made me ache with both awe and dread.

I didn’t belong here. Not in their ring. Not in their world. My bones still remembered the fire of Kade’s bite, my neck still thrummed with a phantom throb when the wind brushed my skin. But the mark wasn’t just memory. It pulsed. It burned. It tied me here, to him. To all of this.

“Move your feet or you’ll be dead before the first strike.”

His voice rolled over me before I even saw him. Gravel and velvet, threaded with the growl that lived in his chest.

Kade.

He strode across the yard like the ground belonged to him, shirt discarded, bandages already bloodstained from the wound on his shoulder. His muscles shifted beneath his skin like coiled power, every line of him sharp, dangerous, unbreakable. Golden eyes locked on me, dragging the air from my lungs.

“I didn’t agree to this,” I said, my voice low, defensive.

“You don’t need to.” He stopped close enough that the heat of him invaded my space. “The bond made the choice for you.”

My jaw clenched. “You think biting me gives you the right to order my life?”

“No.” His lips curved, a shadow of something dark and knowing. “It gives me the right to save it. Whether you like it or not.”

Before I could retort, he pressed a wooden training blade into my hand. The weight startled me. Not heavy, but foreign. A promise of violence.

“I’m not—”

“You are.” His voice cut me off, final, absolute. “Every wolf in this yard would rip you apart if I wasn’t standing here. Every rogue beyond these borders wants your throat. You don’t get to be fragile anymore, Lena.”

His gaze pinned me, fierce and unrelenting. “You’ll fight. You’ll bleed. You’ll learn. Because if you don’t, you’ll die.”

My fingers tightened around the hilt despite myself. Heat flared in my chest—not just anger, not just fear. Something else. A spark.

“Again,” he ordered, stepping back into the circle. His movements were fluid as water, precise as a blade. He raised his own wooden sword, the scar across his brow cutting hard lines into his face. “Strike.”

I hesitated. His golden eyes narrowed.

“Strike me.”

I swung, clumsy, too slow. He knocked the blade from my grip with a twist of his wrist, sending it clattering into the dirt.

“Pathetic.” His voice was a growl, but not cruel. Sharpening. “Pick it up.”

I did. My palms burned. My heart thundered. I swung again, harder, angrier. He blocked, shoved me back, his strength like stone.

“Better. Again.”

The world narrowed to the clash of wood, the sting of failure, the burn in my arms. Each strike was deflected, each attempt thwarted, but something inside me refused to stop. Refused to yield.

Sweat slid down my spine. My breath tore ragged from my lungs. And still, his voice drove me on.

“Again.”

The final strike came wild, desperate. He caught my wrist, twisted, and suddenly I was on the ground, pinned beneath him. His weight pressed into me, his breath hot against my ear.

“You’re fighting me,” he murmured, low and rough. “When you should be fighting them.”

My pulse roared in my ears. His body was fire against mine, his scent everywhere—pine, smoke, the wild heat of wolf.

“I hate you,” I whispered, though my voice trembled with something else entirely.

His lips brushed my ear, his growl sinking into my skin. “No, Lena. You feel me. And that terrifies you more than death.”

The bond surged, electric, undeniable. My body betrayed me, arching into his even as my mind screamed no.

Kade pulled back, eyes molten gold, burning with possession. He rose to his feet, leaving me shaking in the dirt, breathless, furious, alive.

“Training starts at dawn,” he said. “Every day. Until you can survive.”

And then he was gone, leaving only the echo of his heat and the fire in my blood that would not die.

The next dawn came wrapped in fog.

Cold mist curled over the training yard, turning the world into a blur of pale grey. My muscles ached from yesterday’s session—bruises mottled my arms, my palms still raw from gripping the blade too long. But I dragged myself into the circle anyway. Some stubborn piece of me refused to stay in the furs while the pack watched.

And they were watching.

Dozens of golden and amber eyes glowed in the mist, their owners leaning on fence posts, shifting from paw to skin, whispering low. I felt their judgment like knives in my back. The human. The outsider. The Alpha’s weakness.

But then Kade stepped into the ring, and silence fell.

He moved like he owned the fog, the yard, the pack—like he owned me. Bandages wrapped his shoulder, but he didn’t slow, didn’t falter. His gaze found mine instantly, pinning me in place.

“Pick it up,” he ordered, nodding to the blade at my feet.

I lifted it, my grip unsteady but determined.

Kade circled me, barefoot on the dirt, golden eyes sharp. “You think fear is weakness.” His voice rolled low, meant for me alone. “It isn’t. Fear sharpens teeth. Fear keeps you alive.”

I swallowed hard. “And what about anger?”

He stopped, so close his breath misted against my cheek. “Anger makes you dangerous.” His lips curved, dark and knowing. “Show me yours.”

He attacked without warning.

Wood slammed against wood, the vibration jolting up my arm. I staggered back, barely blocking his next strike. He was faster than I could track, every movement brutal and precise. He didn’t hold back—not even a little.

Pain bloomed in my wrist, my ribs, my shoulder. Every strike was a lesson. Every bruise a demand. My breath tore ragged, my arms trembled, but still I swung back.

Again. Again. Again.

The world narrowed to the clash of blades, the sting of failure, the fire in my blood. My body screamed at me to stop, but the bond screamed louder. It pushed me forward, dragging strength from a place I didn’t know existed.

Kade’s voice cut through the chaos, rough, commanding. “Harder.”

I struck.

“Again.”

I struck until my palms bled, until sweat stung my eyes, until rage drowned out fear.

Finally, he twisted, disarmed me, and slammed me back against the post at the edge of the ring. My blade clattered to the dirt. His forearm pressed across my collarbone, his chest pinning me hard enough that I couldn’t breathe.

The pack watched. Silent. Waiting.

But all I saw was him.

Golden eyes burning into mine. Heat radiating off his skin. His scent wrapping around me like smoke and pine and something wild that made my stomach clench.

“Better,” he murmured, low and dark. His thumb brushed the hollow of my throat, where his mark pulsed hot under my skin. “You’re starting to look less like prey.”

I wanted to snarl, to shove him away. But my body betrayed me, arching into his touch. The bond roared, electric, dragging every nerve raw.

“You hate me for this,” he said, his voice pitched low enough that only I could hear. His mouth was a breath from mine. “But your blood doesn’t. Your blood knows what you are now.”

I bit back the truth burning in my chest. That I did hate him. That I hated how much I needed him. That the bond was eating me alive from the inside out.

He leaned in closer, his lips grazing my ear. “One day, Lena, you’ll beg me for the thing you fear most.”

The words licked fire down my spine. My knees nearly buckled.

And then he was gone, stepping back, leaving me shaking against the post, heart hammering, skin burning where he’d touched me.

“Training’s over.” His voice carried through the mist, sharp and final. He turned, addressing the pack. “Remember what you saw. She is mine. She will fight. She will survive.”

The wolves shifted uneasily, some nodding, some snarling low. But none dared challenge him. Not here. Not now.

When the crowd dispersed, I stayed, palms pressed to the rough wood of the post, chest heaving. My blade still lay in the dirt at my feet.

Kade hadn’t just trained me. He’d broken something open.

And I didn’t know whether what was spilling out was strength—or surrender.