In The Healer’s Bond, Emma Adams, a gifted healer, defies destiny after her mate bond with Alpha Steve Kane shatters in brutal rejection. Five years later, a deadly threat forces them together, challenging werewolf traditions, love, and free will. Can Emma reshape their future and heal their broken world?
Lihat lebih banyakChapter One: The Bond
The moon hung blood-red over the Spring Equinox celebration, a crimson eye watching the gathered wolves below. Emma Adams smoothed her silver dress for the hundredth time, trying to calm her racing heart. At twenty-three, she'd attended enough pack ceremonies to know the routine, but tonight felt different. The air crackled with possibility, heavy with magic that made her wolf pace restlessly beneath her skin, claws scraping against her consciousness with growing urgency.
Through the towering windows of the Sterling Creek Pack house, moonlight painted the marble floors in shades of ruby and garnet. Emma's fingers trembled as she tucked a loose strand of dark hair behind her ear, the familiar scents of pack and home doing nothing to calm her nerves. Her wolf was never this restless during ceremonies, yet tonight she prowled through Emma's mind like a caged thing, sensing something momentous on the horizon.
"Stop fidgeting," her best friend Lily whispered, nudging her side. "You look like you're about to jump out of your skin." Lily's warm brown eyes crinkled with concern as she studied Emma's face. "What's got you so worked up?"
Emma forced her hands to still, pressing them flat against the silk of her dress. "Sorry. I just... something feels different tonight. Like the air before a storm breaks." She drew in a shaky breath, tasting magic and anticipation on her tongue. "My wolf won't settle."
"Maybe she knows something you don't," Lily murmured, but before Emma could respond, the gathered wolves parted like water before a ship's bow.
Emma's breath caught as Alpha Steve Kane strode into the great hall. At thirty, he cut an imposing figure in his tailored black suit, raw power rolling off him in waves that made lesser wolves drop their gazes. His presence filled the room like thunder, commanding attention without a word. Emma had seen him from afar at pack gatherings, but never this close. Never close enough to notice how his green eyes seemed to hold ancient forests within them, or how his movements carried the fluid grace of a predator barely contained by human skin.
Their eyes met across the room.
The world stopped.
Emma felt it—the snap of destiny locking into place, a golden thread of fate weaving their souls together with the inevitability of stars falling into alignment. The mate bond blazed to life, filling her with joy so intense it brought tears to her eyes. Her wolf howled in triumph, recognizing the other half of their soul. All her life she'd dreamed of this moment, imagining how it would feel to find the one person the Moon Goddess had created just for her.
Her feet carried her forward without conscious thought, drawn by the pull of their new bond. Whispers erupted around her as pack members realized what was happening. Emma barely heard them, too focused on reaching her mate, her Alpha, her everything—
"I reject you as my mate and the Luna of the pack."
The words hit like a physical blow, sharp as a blade between her ribs. Emma stumbled, certain she'd misheard. But Steve's face was carved from stone, his green eyes cold as winter as he looked down at her. Where moments ago there had been the warmth of recognition, now there was only aristocratic disdain.
"What?" The word came out as a broken whisper, hardly more than a breath of disbelief.
"Oh, please." His lip curled, twisting his handsome features into something ugly. "Don't give me that look. It's not my fault you're not qualified to be my Luna." Each word fell like ice, precise and cutting. "A healer apprentice? The Sterling Creek Pack needs someone of proper breeding and social standing. Someone who understands the responsibilities of leadership, not a common wolf who spends her days brewing herbal remedies."
The rejection ritual was swift and brutal. Emma fell to her knees as Steve severed their newly-formed bond, molten agony ripping through her body like liquid fire in her veins. Her wolf howled in anguish as the golden thread of fate turned to ash, leaving behind a void that burned like acid in her chest. The pain was physical, mental, spiritual—a tearing away of something fundamental to her very being.
Through tears she refused to shed, Emma watched him turn and walk away without a backward glance. Whispers rippled through the gathered pack members—how the Alpha had rejected a simple healer, how she should have known better than to think she was worthy. The words stung like salt in an open wound, but Emma refused to let them see her break.
The marble floor was cold against her palms, grounding her in reality when everything else felt like a nightmare. Every instinct screamed at her to curl into a ball and give in to the pain. Instead, Emma forced herself to stand on shaking legs. Her mother's words from years ago echoed in her mind: "Fate can be cruel, my dear. But we choose what to do with that cruelty."
Emma lifted her chin and met the stares of those around her. Let them see. Let them remember. She was Emma Adams, daughter of healers, keeper of ancient knowledge, and she would not crawl.
Her wolf, though wounded, gathered what remained of their strength. Together, they straightened their spine and faced the whispers and stares with quiet dignity. The blood moon watched impassively as she walked out of the pack house, each step an act of defiance against destiny itself. Behind her, the Spring Equinox celebration resumed as if nothing had happened, as if her world hadn't just shattered into irreparable pieces.
She made it to her car before the first sob tore free. Her hands shook so badly she could barely grip the steering wheel, the void in her chest a hungry thing threatening to consume her whole. Only one thought burned clear through the haze of pain and humiliation:
She had to get out of here.
The engine roared to life, a sound of escape and possibility. Emma Adams drove away from the only life she'd ever known, leaving behind a broken mate bond and the cruel lessons of fate. The blood moon cast long shadows across the road ahead, but she didn't look back.
She couldn't afford to look back. Not now. Not ever.
Emma ran like hell itself was snapping at her heels.The stale air of the underground valley burned in her lungs, each breath harder than the last. The passage twisted and turned, the walls alive with dampness and decay. Her boots slapped against the uneven floor, echoing off the stone, and somewhere behind them, shadows slithered like serpents.Steve was just ahead, his shoulders tense and broad, moving with the purpose of a soldier and the desperation of a man with something to protect. He glanced back at her, eyes scanning her face for signs of injury, fear, or both.“Emma, stay with me,” he said, his voice gruff but steady.“I’m trying,” she choked out.She was terrified. Not of the dark or the claustrophobic walls that pressed in around them—but of the growing realization that Moon Valley had become something far worse than a graveyard. It was a trap. A tomb with a beating heart.And something inside it was waking.Steve’s voice cut through the tension. “I won’t let any of them t
Emma’s pulse beat like a war drum in her ears, the crushing weight of her mother’s confession still settling in her chest. Everything she thought she knew about her bloodline, her life, her purpose—it had all been carefully, cruelly constructed by Priscilla. And now, the facade had shattered. “I cannot believe you,” Emma said under her breath, pacing the length of the room like a lioness cornered, her hands clenched at her sides. “You believe what suits your emotions,” Priscilla replied, her tone unbothered and eerily composed. “But truth doesn’t bend to feelings, Emma.” Steve stood with his back straight near the entrance, his eyes darting between the two women. His instincts screamed at him—this place was wrong. It reeked of illusion and old magic, secrets buried beneath layers of practiced civility. “You let her grow up in misery,” Steve said, his voice low, steady. “With questions and no answers
The silence between them stretched out like a drawn blade. Emma couldn't stop staring at the woman across the desk. Her mother. Her Luna. Her traitor. “You were supposed to protect me,” Emma whispered, though her voice still carried the weight of command. “You were supposed to be better than this.” Priscilla's eyes didn't waver. “And you were supposed to accept your destiny, Emma. But you’ve been running from it your whole life.” Steve’s voice broke the tension. “This isn’t destiny. This is manipulation and power disguised as fate.” Priscilla stood slowly, her hands pressed against the desk. “Spoken like a true outsider.” “I’m not an outsider,” Steve snapped "I bled for Sterling Creek and Emma.” Emma turned her gaze to her mother again. “Why now? Why tell me all of this?” “Because you’ve passed the threshold,” Priscilla answered.
"It is so good to see you again, Emma," Terra said with a deceptive smile."I cannot say the same," Emma replied coldly as she glared at her mother. She felt betrayed as questions ran through her mind."I did not think you would ever come home, Emma," Priscilla stated."And I did not think you would be talking to the enemy, mother," Emma curtly replied. "What is going on?""I am surprised to see you, Alpha Steve," Priscilla said as she ignored her daughter's question."You are the second person telling me that today," Steve replied. "Do you also want me dead?""No, but a lot of people do," Priscilla replied."They can join the long line of my death wishers," Steve replied with an arrogant shrug."I hope your bravery in the face of what is coming will be enough," Priscilla said."Hello, Steve," Terra winked at him. "The Arena has not forgotten about you.""Do not speak to him!" Emma snapped."I see that you are familiar with the emissary," Priscilla said.Emma did not need to guess. Sh
Emma walked cautiously, each step sinking slightly into the damp path that twisted deeper into the forest. The air shimmered around her, pulsing with something ancient and unnatural. Beside her, Steve said nothing, though his body was taut with readiness, his eyes darting to every shadow. The mist ahead thickened until it was nearly blinding. Then, without warning, it parted. He stood there. Her breath caught in her throat. The man before her was tall, broad-shouldered, and almost impossibly beautiful. Midnight black hair spilled across his shoulders like waves of liquid ink. His jawline was sharp enough to cut stone, his skin pale and smooth, untouched by age or sun. But it was his eyes that held her — not because of their beauty, but because of what lurked within. Midnight black. Cold. Bottomless. They swallowed the light around them, pulling at h
The world felt colder as they ran. Emma's grey wolf paws barely made a sound against the moss and dirt, but her heart thundered. Every breath she took carried the scent of mist, damp earth, and something older — a magic so deep it clung to her fur like frost. Steve ran ahead, his midnight black coat cutting through the trees like a shadow in motion. Behind them, the clash of centaur and minotaur steel echoed through the valley, brutal and desperate. The roar that had signaled the ambush still rang in Emma's ears. But they couldn’t look back. They bounded over fallen trunks and leapt through the brush, the forest narrowing until the trees formed an arch above them. Emma’s muscles burned, her healing still incomplete, but her instincts pushed her forward. Something was calling her. She didn’t know whether it was her bloodline, her father’s curse, or simply fate — but it was undeniable. They reached a
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