This question really digs at a core tension I love seeing play out. Forced bonds feel like a narrative pressure cooker—characters are shoved into a connection they never asked for, and the friction of resisting that inevitable pull becomes the entire engine for their development. The growth isn't in the bonding itself, but in the brutal, messy process of shedding the ego and illusions that made them fight it. A character might start by viewing the bond as a cage, a loss of autonomy, and they'll claw against it, making selfish or destructive choices. But that constant resistance forces them to confront parts of themselves they've ignored: their own capacity for cruelty, their hidden vulnerabilities, their fundamental loneliness. The 'unwished' element means the acceptance, when it comes, isn't a simple romantic victory. It's a profound, often quiet, personal surrender to a deeper truth about who they are and what they need. The bond stops being an external force and becomes integrated into their sense of self.
I think of the dynamic in 'The Cruel Prince' where the political alliance is a form of unwished bonding—Jude never wanted to be entangled with the fae court's machinations, but that forced proximity and the constant threat shape her into someone ruthlessly capable. Her growth is in weaponizing the very bond she resented. Or in darker romance, where a fated mate scenario is initially a horror, the character's journey isn't about falling in love on schedule, but about the slow, agonizing dismantling of their own preconceptions about safety, desire, and power. The eventual acceptance feels earned precisely because it was so violently rejected at the start. The scars from the struggle become part of the connection's texture.