Chapter 2: The Pull of Fate
Darius POV
The mate bond hit me like a sword through the chest.
I stood frozen in the shadows of the Great Hall, watching my brother kiss his new bride, while every fiber of my being screamed mine.
Elara. Even her name felt right on my tongue. White Wolf princess with silver hair and eyes like moonlight. She was supposed to be Cassian's peace prize. His political tool.
Not my mate. Never my mate.
But when she looked at me during the ceremony—when our eyes met across that sea of witnesses—I felt the sacred bond snap into place like chains of fire. My wolf roared to life, desperate and possessive and furious.
She belonged to me. The Moon Goddess had chosen us for each other.
And she'd just married my brother.
"Prince Darius." A nobleman appeared at my elbow, wine cup in hand. "Magnificent ceremony, wasn't it? The princess is quite lovely."
I wanted to rip his throat out for looking at her. Instead, I forced a smile. "Indeed."
"Though she seemed a bit... overwhelmed. Did you notice how pale she went during the vows?"
Because she felt it too. The bond. The pull between us that made everything else feel like shadows and lies.
"Wedding nerves," I managed.
The feast began, but I couldn't eat. Couldn't drink. Couldn't focus on anything except Elara sitting beside Cassian at the high table, picking at her food with shaking hands.
Every time Cassian touched her—his hand on her shoulder, his fingers brushing hers—my vision went red. My wolf snarled in my chest, demanding I claim what was mine.
But she wasn't mine. She was his wife now. His queen.
The thought made me sick.
"You look like you're about to start a war," my cousin Marcus said, sliding into the seat beside me.
"Maybe I am."
"Over a woman you met an hour ago?"
If only it were that simple. "Drop it, Marcus."
He raised his hands in surrender, but his eyes stayed sharp. Marcus wasn't stupid. Few people survived court politics by being stupid.
The celebration dragged on for hours. Musicians played, nobles danced, and wine flowed like water. Through it all, I watched Elara smile and nod at the right moments, playing the perfect new queen.
But I could see the tension in her shoulders. The way her eyes darted toward the exits like a trapped animal looking for escape.
When Cassian leaned over to whisper in her ear, she flinched. So subtle most people wouldn't notice. But I saw everything about her now. Every breath, every heartbeat, every flutter of panic.
My mate was suffering, and there was nothing I could do.
Near midnight, the crowd finally began to thin. Cassian stood, wine-flushed and smiling, and offered Elara his arm.
"Come, wife. It's time to retire."
The word 'wife' hit me like a physical blow. Elara went white as fresh snow, but she took his arm with a nod.
They were going to his chambers. His bed. He was going to touch her, claim her, make her his in every way that mattered.
I gripped my wine cup so hard it cracked.
They made it three steps before Elara swayed on her feet. "I... I need some air. Just for a moment."
Cassian frowned. "You're tired. Come to bed."
"Please." Her voice was barely a whisper. "The wine, and all the people... I feel faint."
For a heartbeat, I thought he'd refuse. Drag her off regardless. But even Cassian wasn't stupid enough to force a swooning bride in front of witnesses.
"Fine. Ten minutes. Then I expect you in my chambers." His voice carried a warning that made my hands clench into fists.
Elara curtsied quickly. "Thank you. I'll just... the moon-shrine. For some quiet."
She fled the hall like her skirts were on fire.
I waited exactly thirty seconds before following.
The moon-shrine sat in the palace's eastern garden, a circle of white stone pillars open to the sky. It was a place for meditation, prayer, and solitude. Ancient magic hummed in the air here—older than kingdoms, older than the wars between our packs.
Elara knelt in the center, her white dress spread around her like spilled milk. Moonlight caught in her silver hair, making her look like something from a dream.
My wolf pressed against my ribs, desperate to go to her.
"You shouldn't be here," I said, stepping into the circle.
She spun around, eyes wide. "Neither should you."
"Probably not." I moved closer, drawn by invisible threads I couldn't cut. "But I couldn't stay away."
She scrambled to her feet, backing toward the opposite edge of the shrine. "This is wrong. I'm married. I'm your brother's wife."
"Are you?" I kept walking toward her, slow and steady. "Because from where I stood, that binding ritual looked pretty hollow."
Her breath hitched. "You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know you felt nothing when you kissed him. I know the blood bond didn't take." I was close enough now to see the tears gathering in her eyes. "And I know that when you looked at me, your wolf called mine."
"Stop." The word came out broken.
"I can't." I reached out, fingertips almost touching her cheek. "Do you think I want this? Do you think I chose to be bound to my brother's bride?"
She shuddered, leaning away from my hand. But she didn't step back. "The Moon Goddess is cruel."
"Or maybe she's trying to tell us something."
"Like what? That I should destroy two kingdoms for the sake of desire?"
I laughed, harsh and bitter. "Desire? This isn't desire, Elara. This is fate. This is the sacred bond our people have honored for a thousand years."
"It doesn't matter." Tears spilled down her cheeks. "I made vows. I have duties."
"To a man who will never love you the way I already do."
The words hung between us like a blade. I hadn't meant to say them. Hadn't meant to bare my heart so completely.
But it was too late.
Elara stared at me, lips parted in shock. "You don't even know me."
"I know enough." I stepped closer, close enough that I could smell her scent—jasmine and moonlight and something wild that made my head spin. "I know you're brave enough to sacrifice yourself for peace. I know you're strong enough to hide your fear from hundreds of strangers. I know your wolf recognizes mine, even though you wish she didn't."
"Darius..." My name on her lips was a prayer and a curse.
"I know you're trembling right now, but not from fear." My hand finally made contact, fingers grazing her wrist. Her pulse hammered against my thumb. "I know your body wants what your mind won't let you have."
She gasped, and I felt the bond flare between us like wildfire. Heat and need and something deeper than desire.
"What are you doing to me?" she whispered.
I leaned closer, my lips almost brushing her ear. "Nothing your body isn't begging me for."
She turned her face toward mine—just a fraction, just enough. Our mouths were inches apart. Her breath was warm and sweet, and I could see my own desperate hunger reflected in her eyes.
"This is madness," she breathed.
"Yes," I agreed.
And then our lips crashed together in a kiss that tasted like fire and ruin and the sweetest sin I'd ever committed.