Semua Bab Bound to the Alpha of My Undoing : Bab 11 - Bab 20

Aurela I got up and made my way back to my room, determined to defy whatever that was. I wasn’t completely recovered yet, but I forced myself to go about my normal duties. Anything to keep up appearances. No one looked at me strangely. No whispers, no stares, not even a sideways glance about my sudden awakening—or the fact that I’d been gone for a week. That could only mean one thing: someone had covered for me behind the scenes. I didn’t need to guess who that someone was. I slipped through the back corridors of the training hall, clutching a stack of linens I was taking to the laundry. A pair of trainees brushed past me, giggling. One shoved my shoulder without even looking. I staggered. “Sorry,” I muttered, stepping aside. The linens spilled to the floor. They didn’t help—of course. But behind me, a voice cut in—low and cool. “She apologized. You didn’t.” My breath hitched. It was him again. The girls stopped mid-laugh, eyes wide. Lucan stood at the corr

Aurela He pushed me onto the bed, and I fell back without resistance. There was no kiss. No tenderness. No warning. Just the harsh sound of fabric tearing as he ripped my dress down the middle, exposing me with a violence that was almost reverent. His mouth dipped to my neck, not to kiss—but to inhale. Like my scent repulsed him… and yet, he couldn’t stop breathing me in. A low groan rumbled from his chest. Dark. Dangerous. Wanting. His hands slid beneath the ruined fabric, finding my breasts and cupping them with a roughness that left me breathless. I gasped. A soft, involuntary moan slipped past my lips as his thumb brushed over my nipple—again and again, until my back arched despite myself. I didn’t mean to react. But my body betrayed me. His breath faltered for half a second. Just a flicker. Then he dragged his mouth down the slope of my throat, slow and searing, stopping just above my collarbone. I thought he might bite—but he didn’t. Instead, his fingers gri

Lucan I stared at Aurela until the room blurred at the edges. The bond, eager to be consummated, throbbed between us—a pressure that made my palms ache to pull her close and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. But I had promised myself I wouldn’t. The day before, I had intercepted a letter she was sending. She thought she had been careful enough, but she didn’t know I had placed Gareth and Cole on her watch day after day. They were good at staying in the shadows. We had traveled to different territories and trained in the wild together for ten years—they read tracks and body language the way others read a map. Aurela might have outsmarted most people, but not those two. The letter’s contents were exactly what I had expected: she was in contact with rogues. There had been no mention of plans, only hints and careful phrasing. I supposed she had done it on purpose, always preparing for the worst-case scenario, where a letter got intercepted. That left one certainty—there had to be so

Lucan Her body slumped before I could think. One heartbeat she was staring at me with those broken eyes, the next she was falling. A snarl ripped from my throat—raw, panicked—and before she hit the ground, I shifted mid-stride, fur and claws giving way to skin and hands, and caught her against me. She was so light it terrified me, her head resting against my chest, her skin clammy with exhaustion. “Aurela,” I breathed, shaking her gently, but she didn’t stir. Her lashes lay against her cheeks, still damp with tears, her lips parted as though the fight had finally drained her. I’d seen wolves endure wounds that should have killed them, but this—this was worse. The pain I’d subjected her to had broken her from the inside, and I had stood there, watching, as though she weren’t mine to protect. I gathered her in my arms and strode for the door. She needed treatment, fast. Gasps rippled through the air as I emerged with her in my arms—sharp, hushed intakes of breath. I didn’t need to

Lucan The heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, sealing me in the cold, dimly lit corridor. I stood there for a long time, my hand still resting on the iron latch. The silence of the hallway was a stark contrast to the deafening roar of my own thoughts. Alternating Extremes. I let out a harsh, bitter breath, tilting my head back against the stone wall. She thought my apology was a tactic. A calculated move pulled straight from the pages of the books I had given her. And the worst part? I couldn’t even blame her. If I were in her position—surviving ten years of torture, starvation, and isolation, only to be forced into marriage and subjected to a brutal test of dominance—I wouldn’t have believed me either. I had handed her to Gareth like she was nothing. I had watched her break. My wolf, Kael, let out a low, mournful whine in the back of my mind. He was pacing endlessly, clawing at the edges of my consciousness. *We hurt her,* he snarled. *She looks at us like we are the