The castle awoke slowly, stretching its cold stone limbs under the first golden rays of the sun. Serena had barely slept—her nights were haunted by shadows of memory and the pull of the bond that refused to be ignored.
Her son, of course, had slept fitfully, dreaming of dragons and battles, waking every hour to make sure she was still beside him. She found herself exhausted, yet alert, every instinct wired to the presence of Alaric, lurking somewhere beyond the halls, like a predator testing the edges of its territory.
Breakfast was tense. The grand hall was buzzing with nobles, scholars, and pack elders, all curious about the "woman who returned to the Alpha" and the child who carried both their scents. Serena ignored most of the whispers, focusing on the boy, who was unusually calm this morning.
Until he suddenly piped up:
"Do they always whisper like this?"
"Yes," Serena replied, trying to sound patient. "They think you're dangerous."
"Am I?" he asked, tilting his head.
"Absolutely," she said.
He nodded solemnly. "Good. That means I have power."
Serena couldn't help but smile, though it was tight and sharp. The boy already had a sense of humor, just like his father—though she refused to acknowledge that last part aloud.
From the shadows of the hall, Alaric watched. His eyes tracked every movement, every flicker of her expression, and every sly glance toward him. The wolf beneath his skin growled low. Mate. Child. Claim. Now.
He stepped forward, deliberately slow, letting the hum of control mask the wildfire under his skin. Serena felt it instinctively. Not the presence itself—she had grown accustomed to that—but the intent in it. The Alpha's control was sharp, measured, and utterly terrifying.
"You have a lot of questions," Alaric said softly, stepping closer so that only she could hear. "And I intend to answer them."
She looked at him, unwavering. "Do you really think now is the time? Right in front of the council and their judgmental stares?"
"It's never the time," he replied, eyes darkening, "but the truth does not wait politely."
Her wolf twitched, irritated at the implication that she might be overpowered—again. She was not the same girl who had been banished seven years ago. She had survived, adapted, hardened. And yet, the bond throbbed, dragging her forward into him, even when her mind screamed retreat.
"Fine," she said, voice clipped, though her chest tightened. "Answer. But not here. Alone."
Alaric's lips curved in the faintest smile, dangerous and predatory. "Very well. Follow me."
They left the hall with the boy in tow, who immediately began counting the steps in exaggerated whispers, narrating their passage through the castle corridors like a fearless tour guide.
"Step twelve, Mama. This is where they would trap you if they wanted to. Step sixteen, do not trip on purpose."
"Noted," Serena replied dryly. "Step seventeen, don't make the Alpha laugh. He'll notice weakness."
"I already did," the boy said casually, and Serena caught a faint flicker of movement from the shadows. Alaric's jaw flexed, almost imperceptibly. The wolf growled. Mate. Claim. Now.
They arrived at the training hall, a massive space filled with weapons, mirrors, and the scent of sweat and discipline. Alaric gestured for Serena to stand in the center.
"This is where you will begin," he said, voice low and commanding. "Your training with the pack will start today."
"Training?" she asked, eyebrow raised. "I don't fight for sport."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "You fight for survival. And survival is mandatory here."
The boy cheered from the sidelines. "Yes! I like survival!"
Serena scowled at him, but her wolf twitched with interest. Alaric was testing her, not physically, but emotionally. Every subtle movement, every glance was designed to unsettle, to draw out a response. The wolf sensed it. The bond pulsed, weaving around them like a living thread.
"Hands," Alaric said, demonstrating a stance. His movement was fluid, predatory, every muscle controlled. Serena mimicked it, cautious but precise. He circled her slowly, as if inspecting, correcting. Every time his fingers brushed her shoulder, intentionally or not, she felt a spark—electric, irresistible.
The boy clapped and laughed. "Mama! You smell funny when he touches you!"
Serena froze. "What do you mean?"
"It's… like… sparks and heat," he said bluntly. "And he smells like thunder."
Alaric's lips twitched, though his expression remained stoic. "He notices everything," he said, voice low enough for her ears only. "Even what he should not."
The bond pulsed stronger, and Serena felt herself tilting toward him involuntarily. Her wolf barked in warning: Resist. Wait. Test him.
Alaric mirrored her movement, slowly, deliberately, respecting the distance yet bending the space between them with intention. "I will not force you," he said, voice almost a growl, "but the bond will not wait."
She met his gaze, unflinching. "Neither will I," she replied.
For a brief moment, time stilled. Breath hung between them. Wolves prowled in silent anticipation. The child leaned forward, observing them like a tiny judge with the blunt honesty only a child could wield.
Then Alaric's wolf roared, low and urgent. His hand hovered near hers. A whisper of proximity, a brush of air that spoke of hunger, restraint, and inevitability.
"Step back," Serena said quietly, but the quiver in her voice betrayed her own growing awareness: staying so close, smelling him, seeing him, was intoxicating. Dangerous. And impossible.
Alaric held his position. "Step back?" His voice was amused, but his eyes were dark, predatory. "I can't. The bond doesn't allow it."
And then, as if to punctuate the lesson, the boy laughed, startling both of them. "Mama! You're blushing! Alpha King can see it too!"
Serena's face burned, and even Alaric's rare, controlled smile deepened, though he didn't comment. His wolf growled in frustration and delight simultaneously.
Training began, awkward and tense, yet layered with unspoken challenges. Every stance, every movement, was an unspoken battle of wills. The bond hummed, insistent, pulling them closer, marking the space, claiming territory in subtle, irresistible ways.
By the time the sun had climbed high, Serena's body ached from exertion—but her mind buzzed more from proximity, stolen glances, and the pull that neither of them could ignore.
Alaric observed her with unwavering intensity. "You endure," he said quietly.
"Because I must," she replied.
"Or because you want to," he murmured, and her stomach fluttered in the most dangerous way possible.
The wolf beneath her skin growled. The Alpha's presence pressed into her like a living thing. And in the silence, one truth became impossible to deny: they were no longer two separate lives. Not physically, not spiritually, not in the least.
The bond was awake.
And it would not be ignored.