Cael

Cael’s POV

 

Moonlight drenched me in liquid silver, cold and electric. It flooded every pore until my bones throbbed with something wild. Pleasure became a blade, exquisite and lethal, cutting so deep I almost howled.

I ran through the forest, muscles tense and ready. My paws hit the ground hard. Branches whipped by. The air stung my lungs. My beast loved the pain, the wild ache, the freedom. If I had stayed in that city, surrounded by lights, crowds, and the witch’s scent, I would have broken.

I would’ve set the city ablaze, watched it crumble to ash, piece by piece.

Her scent stayed with me, sweet and maddening. I could still feel her skin on my palm. And her eyes, fierce and green, broke through the walls I had built for years.

She was breathtaking.

And a curse.

I should have broken the bond as soon as I saw her getting coffee. But I was weak. Curiosity consumed me, driving me to want to know her secrets and whether they could help me. Now, I don’t know if I want her for answers or just because fate says so.

I fucked up.

I’ve heard the stories. Mate bonds that toppled kingdoms, that ignited wars. Bonds that turned wolves into monsters. In this age, they’re less about fate and more about politics. Wolves are begging witches for spells to force connections that were never meant to exist.

Pathetic. Those false bonds always end the same way: death. But when a wolf meets their true mate?

There’s no ignoring it.

And breaking it… nearly impossible.

My wolf slows, chest heaving, then tilts his head toward the sky. I know what he wants. What he feels.

So I let him howl, pouring fury into the night. The wild cry cuts through the trees, breaking the silence.

But the anger doesn’t ease.

Not when I remember her look, head tilted back, fire in her eyes as she spoke those words. That she might belong to a Fae lord. That no man had ever touched her.

The howl deepens, savage and broken, because my wolf reacts like she already belongs to me.

Ours.

The thought burns through me, hotter than the moonlight, sharper than any blade.

Fuck.

I have to return to DesWillow for the summit. I need a way in. Tomorrow night, while everyone pretends to be at peace and drowns in Fae wine at the ball, I’ll slip into the palace and listen from the shadows. This is my chance to get close to the High Alpha.

It took me centuries to rebuild and regain my strength. Now I’m ready. But I can’t go in without a plan. I need information. The summit is my start. As my howl fades, my chest feels empty. My wolf wants more, but I hold him back. I make myself focus.

I didn’t crawl my way through centuries of ruin just to lose myself now.

For now, I’ll head back to Deswillow and watch the palace. I need to find an opening for tomorrow; the ball is my best chance to get close.

---

The palace towers over DesWillow, daring the gods to challenge it. White stone blazes in the moonlight, spires stabbing the sky. Guards drift in lazy patterns, spears glinting. Their eyes are dulled by arrogance.

Good.

I move quietly, weaving through gardens full of roses and lilies. Thorns catch my clothes, almost like the earth wants a price. The stone is slick under my claws. I climb the ledge, watching balconies and noting shadows and exits.

Until suddenly,

Her scent slices through me, sharp as a blade to the gut.

The bond twists inside me. For a moment, I can’t move. My claws scrape the stone, and my jaw aches from clenching.

Confusion ripples through me.

And yet,

I see her.

On the balcony above the gardens, bathed in silver light. Hana. My curse. My mate.

She shouldn’t be here. She can’t be here. Only kings, queens, their chosen heirs, and their most trusted. A stranger like her has no place in these walls.

And still, she stands there. Moonlight shines through her hair, making her skin glow. Her green eyes look toward the horizon, sharp and strong, but with a shadow I can’t name.

My wolf pushes forward, snarling, wanting me to get closer. Claim. Protect. Break down the walls until she is ours.

Mine.

The word burns through me like fire in my veins, unstoppable.

I hold the stone so hard it cracks. Doubt eats at me, worse than hunger. Why is she here? How? Who brought her? Is she promised to a lord, a fae, or the High Witch? The idea of her belonging to someone else makes me see red.

She tilts her head suddenly, like she feels me. Like she knows.

My breath stops.

She shouldn’t be able to sense me, not this far, not hidden in the dark. And yet her eyes lift, searching the shadows where I stand.

The bond thrums beneath my skin—feral, vicious, impossible to ignore.

Questions claw at the inside of my skull. I need answers, but not tonight.

If I so much as breathe too loud, if she catches the smallest flicker of my presence, everything I’ve sacrificed will crumble. Centuries of schemes could unravel because of one girl wreathed in moonlight. I can’t let want topple my purpose.

I rip myself from the ledge and melt into the shadows, muscles quivering with the effort to stay hidden. Her scent scorches my senses, a mark I can’t wash away.

Tomorrow, I’ll return. Tomorrow, the summit begins.

And tomorrow, I’ll find out why fate chose to bind me to the only soul capable of unmaking me.