Chapter 1
Raven Blackwood never believed in fated mates, and she certainly never imagined being forced into a bond with the one alpha she despised most—Killian Storm. Yet, as she stood in the grand hall of the Bloodmoon Pack’s estate, surrounded by unfamiliar faces, the heavy weight of her fate settled on her like a shackle she could never break.
The scent of cedar and burning embers filled her senses—Killian’s scent. A scent she should crave but instead made her stomach churn. Her hands clenched into fists as her wolf stirred within her, restless and enraged.
Killian leaned lazily against the head of the long dining table, his piercing silver eyes watching her with an amused smirk. He looked every bit the ruthless alpha the stories whispered about—tall, broad-shouldered, with dark hair tousled as if he hadn’t bothered to tame it. His presence radiated dominance, and Raven hated that her wolf responded to it.
“I expected you to put up more of a fight, Blackwood,” Killian mused, his voice a deep, velvety growl. “Or did you finally accept that you belong to me?”
Raven’s teeth clenched. “I belong to no one.”
Murmurs rippled through the hall, warriors and elders exchanging glances at her defiance. No one spoke to Killian that way, but she didn’t care. If he thought she would bow at his feet just because of some outdated law forcing them together, he had another thing coming.
Killian pushed off the table and stalked toward her, his movements slow, deliberate. His scent thickened around her, suffocating. “You’ll learn, little wolf.”
Her body tensed as he reached for her chin, tilting it up so she was forced to meet his gaze. His silver eyes darkened, something predatory flickering beneath the surface. Raven refused to look away, even as her pulse hammered in her throat.
“Go to hell, Killian.”
His smirk widened, but his grip tightened slightly, just enough to remind her of the strength coiled beneath his skin. “We’re already there, sweetheart.”
The doors to the hall burst open, and an older man—one of the council elders—cleared his throat. “It is time.”
Raven’s stomach twisted. The binding ceremony. The moment that would seal her fate. Killian released her with a smirk, stepping back as if he already knew she had no choice. And perhaps she didn’t.
But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t fight him every step of the way.
As the moon rose high, illuminating the sacred grounds where their bond would be sealed, Raven made a silent vow.
She might be bound to him, but she would never be his.
Raven’s heart pounded as she stood before the ceremonial fire, the flickering flames casting eerie shadows on the sacred stones beneath her feet. The ritual was ancient, binding, and entirely against her will. But none of that mattered to the elders. None of that mattered to Killian.
Killian stood across from her, his stance relaxed but his expression unreadable. He was an enigma—one moment cold and detached, the next exuding dominance that made her wolf restless. Tonight, he looked like a man who had already won a battle she didn’t even know had begun.
“Let’s get this over with,” she muttered, lifting her chin defiantly.
Killian’s lips curled into a smirk. “Impatient, are we?”
The elder raised his hands, his voice carrying over the gathered crowd. “Under the witness of the Moon Goddess, we unite these souls in the sacred bond of the mate ritual.”
Raven’s fists clenched at her sides. She refused to look at Killian, refused to acknowledge the way her heart betrayed her with each steady beat.
“Drink,” the elder commanded, handing them each a silver chalice filled with dark crimson liquid. The binding elixir.
Raven hesitated, her stomach twisting. The elixir would forge a connection between them, a tether that neither of them could sever. Once consumed, their souls would be linked, their fates entwined forever.
Killian tipped his chalice back, drinking without hesitation. His silver eyes never left hers as he swallowed, his throat moving with each sip. The crowd held its breath, waiting.
Raven’s fingers tightened around the chalice. Her choices were nonexistent, but her will remained unbroken. Lifting it to her lips, she downed the liquid, its bitter taste coating her tongue. A burning sensation ignited in her chest, spreading like wildfire through her veins.