The Last Forbidden Bond

Being part of the Derimigo family as an heiress was worse than death.

My hand was trembling in front of many eyes staring at me.

I had practiced this speech for two weeks. Two weeks of standing in front of my bathroom mirror at 6 AM, perfecting every smile and gesture that would make me look like a dutiful daughter instead of a liar.

I squeezed my mic and began, "The Derimigo family has always understood that with great power comes great responsibility—"

My father's hand tightened on my shoulder. A warning. I was rushing. I took a breath, let my smile widen just enough to show teeth, and continued.

"—which is why I'm honored to announce the launch of Derimigo Flux's Urban Renewal Initiative, a two-billion-dollar commitment to revitalizing underserved neighborhoods throughout the Bay Area."

Then my eyes landed on Killian Drake standing near the far end of the ballroom, and every thought inside my head disappeared instantly.

The words died in my throat as fear tightened painfully around my chest.

He stood dressed entirely in black with one hand tucked into his pocket while powerful men surrounded him like loyal guards. His expression remained unreadable and he watched me in a way that made my stomach twist.

Killian Drake was one of the most dangerous men I had ever known, and I had begged my father not to invite him to tonight's event because the last time we attended a gathering together, he publicly assaulted me after I embarrassed him during a negotiation in front of politicians, investors, and socialites. The humiliation still haunted me even though the bruises had faded weeks ago.

The ballroom suddenly felt suffocating as my body locked in place beneath his stare. The silence was long enough that people nearby began exchanging questioning looks while whispers slowly spread across the room. Cameras remained pointed directly at me, waiting for me to continue speaking.

My father's fingers pressed harder against my shoulder, pulling me back to reality.

"Selene," he muttered sharply under his breath.

I forced myself to breathe again before lifting my chin and continuing the speech despite the pounding of my heart. My father was going to kill me for stalling this badly.

"My father has taught me that true leadership means investing in community, in partnership, in sustainable growth that benefits everyone—"

Applause rippled through the ballroom.

Two hundred faces turned toward me, most of them were wearing a fake smile. Alphas from up and down the West Coast. Their heirs. Their human spouses glittering with jewelry that cost more than most people's houses, necks tilted at just the right angle to display mate marks that proved they belonged to someone important.

The was the annual Derimigo Solstice Gala. The event where my family reminded everyone exactly who owned the Bay Area, and smiled while doing it.

I smiled too. I'd practiced that as well. Practiced it until my face ached.

The lie tasted like biting through my own tongue. But I delivered it perfectly.

I'd read the actual plans. Which is differently not the glossy press releases they'd handed to reporters, but the real documents kept in my father's study, locked in a drawer I'd learned to pick by accident last Friday.

Derimigo Flux would buy up properties for pennies on the dollar, using eminent domain and legal pressure and threats. We'd demolish homes where families had lived for generations. Then we'd build luxury condos and artisanal coffee shops and organic grocery stores, and we'd call it progress.

But I smiled. And I lied. Because that's what Derimigo daughters did. That's what we'd always done, from the moment we were old enough to stand on a stage and look pretty while our fathers burned the world down behind us.

"—which is why I'm proud to carry this vision forward into the next generation." I paused, letting my gaze sweep across the room like I actually gave a damn about any of them. "Thank you."

The applause came harder this time. They were eating it up, these wolves in designer suits who'd built their fortunes on the backs of people who'd never be invited to a party like this.

My father leaned in and kissed my cheek for the cameras, his lips cold as marble against my skin. "Well done, darling," he murmured, quiet enough that only I could hear. His hand was still on my shoulder, grip just short of painful. "Killian is waiting by the terrace. Don't make him wait long."

My wolf snarled inside my chest. I felt her claws rake against my ribs, desperate to get out, desperate to run. She'd been fighting me all night, every instinct screaming that we were in danger, that we needed to shift and tear our way through the glass windows and never look back.

I forced her down with the same ruthless control I'd been practicing since I was twelve. Since the first time she'd tried to surface during a dinner party and my father had grabbed me by the throat and held me against the wall until I learned to cage her properly.

"Of course," I said, still smiling.

I descended from the podium in my mother's vintage Dior gown; midnight blue silk that pooled at my feet. My mother had worn it to her own engagement announcement thirty years ago. She'd smiled in all the photos too.

She didn't smile much anymore.

I wove through the crowd, accepting congratulations I didn't want from people I barely knew. Alphas nodded at me with proprietary satisfaction, like I was a prize heifer they'd jointly invested in. Their mates looked at me with carefully blank expressions that meant either pity or envy; I could never tell which, and I wasn't sure it mattered. The human spouses, the ones who'd married into pack families for love or money or survival, watched me with something that looked like recognition. Like they knew exactly what I was walking toward and remembered walking toward it themselves, years ago, when they were still young enough to think they had a choice.

Killian Drake stood on the terrace, framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows, the San Francisco skyline glittering behind him. He was handsome in the way that expensive things are handsome. Perfect bone structure, perfect posture, perfect smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair swept back from his face and a jawline that had probably launched a thousand I*******m thirst posts.

His father was Alpha of the Cascade Pack in Seattle, one of the oldest and most powerful packs in the Pacific Northwest. Killian was heir apparent. I was heir apparent. Our union would create a political dynasty that would control the entire West Coast, from San Diego to Vancouver.

My wolf would rather chew off her own leg than let him touch us.

"Selene." He extended his hand. "You look beautiful."

"Thank you." I took his hand because refusing would cause a scene, and causing a scene would mean explaining to my father why I'd embarrassed him in front of two hundred witnesses. His palm was warm, dry, perfectly pleasant.

I felt nothing. No spark, no pull, no hint of the bond that was supposed to snap into place between destined mates. Nothing but my wolf's desperate, clawing revulsion.

The orchestra was playing something classical and inoffensive. Killian led me onto the dance floor with the confidence of someone who'd never been told no in his entire life.

"That speech was impressive," he said as we began to waltz. His hand settled on my waist with just slightly too much pressure. "Your father must be very proud."

"I hope so."

"Though between you and me..." He leaned closer, his breath hot against my ear. "—you could have sold it better. You looked nervous up there. Rushed through some of the lines. People can smell weakness, Selene. Especially in this room."

I missed a step. He corrected smoothly, his grip tightening enough to leave marks I'd find tomorrow.

"I wasn't nervous," I said, keeping my voice light. "I was being thoughtful. There's a difference."

"Is there?" His smile sharpened. "Because from where I stood, it looked like you were struggling to remember your lines. But it's fine, really. Public speaking is challenging, especially for...." He paused. "—more sensitive wolves. Once we're mated, I can handle most of the public-facing work. You'll be better suited to behind-the-scenes operations. Charity work, maybe. Event planning. Isn't that what Derimigo women traditionally do?"

Something hot and vicious rose in my throat. My wolf surged forward, snapping at the cage I'd built for her.

"My mother runs the legal department," I said quietly. "She negotiated the territorial expansion in 2015 that added fifty thousand acres to our holdings. My grandmother personally negotiated the territorial treaties in the seventies that prevented a three-way pack war. Derimigo women don't do charity work, Killian. We run empires while men like you take credit for them."

"Of course." His tone was indulgent, patronizing, the way you'd humor a child having a tantrum. "I just meant that you seem more comfortable in... softer roles. Supporting roles. There's no shame in that, Selene. Not every wolf is built for leadership. Some of us are meant to lead. Others are meant to follow. It's just biology."

My nails dug into his shoulder hard enough that I felt fabric tear. I felt my wolf surge forward like a riptide, felt my canines start to extend, felt the shift beginning at the base of my spine—

I forced her back. Shoved her down with every ounce of control I'd spent years learning. But my hands were shaking, and I knew he could feel it.

"You don't know anything about what I'm built for," I said through clenched teeth.

"Don't I?" Killian spun me out and pulled me back in, and when I came back to face him, his expression was cold. "I know your wolf rejected me at the spring meeting. Snarled at me in front of both our families like I was a threat instead of your future mate. I know your father had to personally apologize to mine. Had to promise that you'd be brought to heel before the formal bonding.

Brought to heel? I wasn't a fucking dog. I was a wolf. There was a difference, you absolute—

"I know that in six months, you'll either accept this bond willingly or your father will invoke the Rite of Binding, and you'll accept it anyway, whether your wolf likes it or not. The only question is whether you're going to humiliate both our families by making this difficult."

I squeezed my hand, clutching his shoulder. Okay. Okay. Don't panic. This is fine. This is totally fine. I'm just being threatened with TOXIC DATE RAPE in a ballroom full of people while wearing my mother's engagement dress.

The music swelled. Around us, other couples danced, a carefully choreographed performance of pack unity and power. No one was close enough to hear us. Killian had made sure of that.

"The Rite of Binding is illegal in California," I said quietly. "It's been illegal since 1907."

"For humans." His smile was pitying. "We're not human, Selene. Pack law supersedes state law. You know that. Your father wrote half the pack laws currently in effect."

"I'm not going to mate with you."

"Yes, you are." He pulled me closer, close enough that I could feel every inch of him pressed against me, and the heat rolling off him in waves was meant to make me submit. Alpha pheromones, designed to overwhelm, to force obedience from lesser wolves. "Because the alternative is exile. No pack. No family. No resources. No protection. How long do you think you'd last out there alone? A month? Two? Rogue wolves don't last long, Selene. They get hunted down by territorial packs, or they go feral, or they just... disappear. Is that really what you want?"

I thought about my apartment in Pacific Heights that I didn't pay for. My Tesla that I didn't own. My bank accounts that were linked to my father's, monitored by his accountants, controlled by his whims. My entire life, built on a foundation that could be pulled out from under me the moment I disobeyed. The moment I stopped being useful.

"I'll find a way," I whispered.

Killian laughed loud enough that several nearby couples glanced over us.