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exile
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2026-01-23 07:19:11Chapter Two
I told myself I wouldn't look. I stayed in my room. Sat on my bed. Stared at the wall. But then I heard his voice again, clearer now, coming from the foyer downstairs. My body moved on its own. I stood. Walked to my bedroom door. Opened it just a crack. Just one look. That's all. Just to see him once. I crept to the top of the staircase. The marble floor downstairs gleamed. My parents stood by the door, dressed in their best clothes. Isabella waited on the bottom step, wearing my dress, my veil, my future. And then he walked in. The bond hit me like a truck. My knees buckled. I grabbed the railing to keep from collapsing. Heat flooded my body. Every nerve ending lit up. My skin felt too tight. My wolf surged forward, stronger than she'd been in hours. MATE. MATE. GO TO HIM. He was tall. Broad shoulders. Dark hair. His presence filled the entire room, commanding and absolute. Alpha. Mine. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. The bond pulled at me, a physical ache in my chest that demanded I go to him. That I run down those stairs and— His head turned. His eyes found mine. Everything stopped. Time. Breath. Thought. His eyes were dark. Intense. They locked onto me with a force that made my heart slam against my ribs. For one perfect, terrible second, I thought he felt it. I thought he knew. My heart was beating so hard I could hear it in my ears. Thundering. Desperate. The bond between us pulled taut. Vibrating. Alive. His expression shifted. Confusion flickered across his face. His nostrils flared slightly, like he was trying to catch a scent that wasn't there. He frowned. Tilted his head. Like something was wrong. Like something was missing. My chest burned. The bond screamed at me to go to him. Then I heard footsteps on the stairs. Isabella. She was climbing toward me. My parents were still downstairs, talking to the Alpha, distracting him. But Isabella's eyes were locked on mine. A smile spread across her face. Cold. Victorious. It disappeared the second she got close enough that only I could see her clearly. "Why are you standing there?" Her voice was loud enough to carry downstairs. Sweet. Concerned. "Come here, Ira. Come meet the Alpha." She walked closer. Her smile twisted into something vicious. "We told you not to come out," she hissed. Her voice was low now. Poison. "But you still came. Do you want to ruin this for me? Do you think you can take this from me?" "He's my mate," I whispered. "He's MINE." Her eyes flashed. "I was born to be a Luna. The Moon Goddess made a mistake choosing you. You're weak. Pathetic. You don't deserve him." "Isabella—" "Let me tell you something." She stepped closer. "He will never be yours. I'll make sure of it." Then she grabbed my wrist. And threw herself backward down the stairs. She screamed. Her body tumbled. Hit each step with sickening thuds. She landed at the bottom in a heap. "IRABELLA PUSHED ME!" The scream tore through the house. No. No no no no— "WHAT?" Dad's roar shook the walls. I stared at my hand. The hand Isabella had grabbed. The hand that was still extended. Like I'd shoved her. Mom was already on the floor, cradling Isabella. "Baby, are you okay? Can you move?" Isabella sobbed. Actual tears streamed down her face. "She pushed me. I just wanted her to come downstairs and meet him and she—she got so angry—" "I didn't," I said quietly. Nobody listened. "LIAR!" Dad was in front of me now. His face was red. "We heard her scream! We saw you standing there!" "She grabbed me and threw herself—" Mom's voice cut through. "She's bleeding." I looked down. Blood trickled from Isabella's temple. Her arm was bent at an odd angle. She'd hurt herself. Actually hurt herself. To frame me. The Alpha was kneeling beside her now. His hands were gentle as he checked her injuries. His face was hard. Controlled. But I saw something flicker in his expression when he touched her. Confusion. Doubt. Like his wolf was telling him something was off. "Alpha Daemon." Isabella's voice was so small. So broken. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have approached her. I knew she was angry about... about us. But I thought maybe if she met you, she'd understand that this is the Moon Goddess's will." I didn't respond. What was the point? They never believed me before. They wouldn't start now. The Alpha stood. He looked at me. And I felt it again. That pull. That connection. His eyes narrowed. Like he felt it too but couldn't make sense of it. He took a step toward the stairs. Toward me. "Alpha." Mom's voice was urgent. "Please. Isabella needs a doctor." He stopped. Looked back at Isabella, crying and bleeding on the floor. Then at me. "Did you push her?" he asked. His voice was quiet. But there was something in it. Something that made me think he wanted me to deny it. That he needed me to deny it. "No," I said. My voice was empty. Hollow. "I didn't touch her." "She's BLEEDING!" Mom shrieked. The Alpha's jaw tightened. He looked at me for a long moment. I felt the bond between us pulling. Aching. But I said nothing. Just stared back at him. There was no point in begging. No point in explaining. Nobody would listen. They never did. "Get her out of my sight," he said. My heart stopped. "GUARDS!" Two men appeared from outside. Big. Armed. "Take her to the border," the Alpha said. "She's exiled from pack lands for five years. If she returns before then, she'll be executed." Five years. I'd be twenty-three. If I survived that long. "You can't—" Dad started. "This is my decision," the Alpha cut him off. His voice was absolute. "She attacked my mate. She's lucky I'm being merciful." He flinched when he said it. Like the word 'merciful' tasted wrong in his mouth. His hand pressed to his chest briefly. His expression flickered with confusion again. But then Isabella whimpered. And whatever he was feeling disappeared. The guards grabbed my arms. I didn't fight this time. What was the point? They led me toward the door. I looked back once. The Alpha was helping Isabella to her feet. His arm around her waist. Her head on his shoulder. She looked at me. And smiled. I turned away. The guards pushed me outside. The door slammed shut behind me. "You have until sunrise to pack and leave," one guard said. "After that, we drag you out." I nodded. Walked back to my room like a ghost. Five years. Five years of exile for a crime I didn't commit. Five years away from my mate. My mate who would spend those years with my sister. Believing her lies. Falling in love with her. I sat on my bed. Didn't cry. Crying was useless. I'd learned that a long time ago.
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bound by deception DEREK'S TERMS"
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bound by deception THE ANNOUNCEMENT"
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bound by deception WHAT HE ALREADY KNEW"
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bound by deception Blood"
CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN — "Blood"Irabella's POVThe doctor's office smelled the same as it always did.Antiseptic. Paper. The specific quiet of a room built to hold difficult things and say nothing about them afterward.We sat in a row — Daemon to my left, Isabella to my right, the space between all three of us carrying five years of weight that no chair arrangement could make comfortable. Dr. Whitmore moved around his desk with the composed efficiency of a man who had prepared for this appointment and was determined to give nothing away.Whatever Isabella had on him sat in the room like a fourth presence.I felt it without being able to name it — something off in the set of his shoulders, the way his hands were slightly too deliberate, the specific quality of a man performing neutrality rather than inhabiting it.My wolf noticed it before I consciously did.Something is wrong."The process is straightforward." Whitmore set two vials on the desk, a small tray, a reagent he uncapped with
bound by deception Blood
Chapter 47: BloodThe room smelled like antiseptic trying to cover something older, something copper and patient, the kind of smell that lives in walls no matter how many times you scrub them. I sat with my hands folded so no one would see them shake, and across from me Isabella sat like a queen already crowned, spine straight, chin tilted, a woman arriving at a destination rather than waiting for one.Dr. Whitmore's hands didn't shake. That was the first wrong thing. A man about to deliver the truth of a mate bond should carry some tremor of human uncertainty. His were steady as scalpel work, and he would not look at Isabella — not once, not even by accident.That was the second wrong thing."Isabella first," he said, and the needle slid into her arm without so much as a flinch from her, because pain has never touched Isabella the way it touches the rest of us. She watched Daemon while her blood filled the vial, dark and unhurried, and I watched her watch him — memorizing the shape o
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bound by deception five years changed nothing
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