Rain pounded the earth like war drums, thick and unforgiving, as Mira Alaric stood at the edge of the forest. Her white ceremonial cloak soaked through, clung to her skin like a noose. The entire Crimson Circle estate was lit by torchlight, an eerie glow painting the night in blood and fire. And at the center of it all, waiting like a nightmare brought to life, was Ash Calder – The Alpha-to-be. The executioner of her past.
He stood tall, clad in jet-black, wolf-skin ceremonial robes. His eyes were sharp amber, glowing with disdain. He didn't speak, didn't blink. His gaze cut through the crowd, through the smoke, through her.
She hated that it made her chest tighten.
"Mira Alaric, you come as demanded," Elder Rowan croaked beside her, raising the old blood dagger. His voice echoed over the gathering. "To bind yourself to Ash Calder, firstborn of the Crimson Circle, and thus end the war between your bloodlines."
"This isn't peace," Mira whispered under her breath, too low for anyone but herself to hear. "This is surrender."
The air shifted. She felt Ash's stare deepen, as if he had heard her.
Her steps were slow, deliberate, as she approached him. Her bare feet sank into the wet grass. Each step a funeral bell. When she reached him, he didn't offer his hand.
Of course he wouldn't.
He hated her.
"You're late," Ash growled under his breath.
"Would you have preferred I didn't come at all?" she snapped back, her voice sweet with venom.
He smirked—cold, mocking. "Don't tempt me."
The binding circle flared to life beneath them. A ring of red energy carved into the earth, symbols from ancient werewolf tongues glowing like brands. The dagger was passed between them. First Ash, then her.
One cut each. Their blood mingled in a silver chalice. Then, it was done.
"You are now bound by blood and name," Elder Rowan declared. "As the moon bears witness, let this marriage seal the accord. Let no wolf rise against it."
The crowd howled but Mira didn't. Ash didn't.
They only stared.
The private chambers assigned to them were nothing short of royal. Silk curtains. A massive canopy bed. A roaring fire. But no warmth.
Ash was the first to enter. Mira followed slowly, hands clenched at her sides. Her wolf roared in her chest, unsettled by the bond, by his scent—dark cedar, blood, smoke.
"You expect me to play wife now?" she said sharply, tossing her wet cloak to the floor.
Ash was removing his gloves, each motion calm but deliberate. "No. I expect you to stay out of my way."
"Gladly."
His gaze flicked to her. For a second, she thought she saw something—pain? No. Just a trick of the fire.
"You may hate me, Mira Alaric, but don't forget who kept you alive long enough to hate anything at all."
"Your family slaughtered mine," she hissed.
"And yours drew first blood," he snapped back, voice hardening. "You think I wanted this? To be chained to the ghost of your dead Alpha father? To have his daughter breathing my air?"
Silence stretched between them.
"Then why didn't you refuse the bond?" she challenged.
He didn't answer. Instead, he stepped closer. Close enough for her to smell the fire on his skin, the steel in his soul.
"Because I have my reasons," he said lowly. "And you, Mira, are going to stay alive long enough for them to matter."
Her brows furrowed. "What does that mean?"
He turned his back.
"It means you'll sleep in the bed. I'll take the floor. And if you try to run—I'll find you. If you disobey me—I'll punish you. But no one else touches you. Ever. Do you understand?"
A slow shiver danced down her spine.
Was that protection… or possession?
"I don't need your threats," she spat.
"Not threats," he muttered, removing his cloak. "Those are warnings."
He lay on the floor without another word, back turned.
Mira stood still for a long time, listening to the storm howl outside. Her fists trembled. Her soul burned.
She slipped beneath the covers, back to him. But sleep did not come because no matter how cold Ash Calder pretended to be –something about the way he stood between her and the windows…the way he faced the door all night like a guard, made her wonder who the real enemy truly was.
Dawn arrived bruised and gray. Mira woke to find Ash already gone.
She dressed quickly—black leathers beneath her ceremonial cloak, tied her wild hair into a braid, and followed the sound of distant training grunts. She found him in the sparring ring – alone, shirtless, glorious and terrifying.
His muscles coiled like a beast beneath his skin as he danced with a blade. Every move precise. Every slash full of rage.
Mira stepped closer without meaning to.
sensed her.
"You planning to fight me already, wife?" he said without looking.
"Just wondering how many necks you had to break to get a moment alone."
He paused and turned to her. Their eyes met like fire and ice.
"You shouldn't be here," he said.
"Where should I be then? Preparing tea? Sewing the Calder crest into pillows?"
Ash's jaw clenched.
"You're not a prisoner, Mira. You're a symbol. A peace offering. Don't make things harder."
"I didn't start this. Your father did. Your clan did!"
His eyes flashed red. For a second, his wolf threatened to surface.
"You think I wanted this marriage? This bond? I was given no choice."
"Neither was I," she whispered.
A pause and Ash looked away.
"There are things you don't understand yet. Things you're safer not knowing."
"You mean your secrets? Or your lies?"
He dropped the blade and stepped to her –close.Too close.
His fingers brushed her jaw—not gentle, not cruel, just searching.
"Stay angry, Mira. It's safer that way. Just… don't stop watching your back. Even here."
Then he was gone, vanishing into the mist. And for the first time since she crossed into Crimson Circle territory, Mira Alaric felt afraid. Not of Ash Calder. But of how much she wanted to understand him.
And why, beneath all the hate— there was something else growing in her chest.
Something dangerous.
Something like longing.