The Bond I Refused
Something was wrong.
Kael Blackridge felt it the moment he woke.
The ceiling above him was unfamiliar—guest room, not his own—and the faint ache behind his eyes told him he'd drunk more than he should have the night before. The sounds of the pack outside were muted, distant, as if the world itself was holding its breath.
He dragged a hand down his face and sat up.
The scent hit him instantly.
Omega.
Fresh. Lingering. Wrapped around him like a memory he didn't want to touch.
His jaw tightened.
Images came back in fragments—moonlight spilling through tall windows, warm skin beneath his hands, a soft gasp against his mouth. The way her body had fit against his as if it had always belonged there.
Elara.
He swore under his breath and swung his legs off the bed.
It had been a mistake. A reckless, alcohol-soaked lapse in judgment. Omegas had always reacted strongly to him—it wasn't new—but this… this had gone too far. He hadn't planned it. Hadn't intended for it to happen.
And yet, the echo of her scent clung stubbornly to his skin.
Kael showered quickly, scrubbing until the water ran cold, until the heat beneath his skin dulled into irritation. By the time he dressed, his Alpha instincts were awake and restless, prowling beneath the surface.
Still, the unease didn't fade.
As he stepped into the hallway, the sensation returned—sharp, sudden, like an invisible thread tightening around his chest. He stopped mid-step, breath hitching.
"What the hell…?"
The feeling wasn't pain. It was awareness.
A pull.
His wolf stirred uneasily.
Mate.
The word surfaced unbidden, absurd and unwelcome.
"No," he muttered, pushing the thought aside. He had known who his mate was supposed to be for years. The future Luna had always been obvious—strong bloodline, perfect compatibility, everything the pack council approved of.
Not an Omega from the lower houses.
Kael forced himself to keep walking.
By midday, the whispers had started.
Pack members lowered their voices when he passed. Glances lingered too long, curiosity sharp in their eyes. He caught fragments—his name, Elara's, speculation curling like smoke.
Anger flared hot and fast.
He found her in the outer courtyard.
Elara stood near the fountain, hands clasped in front of her, shoulders drawn inward as if she were trying to make herself smaller. Her scent reached him before her face did, and this time it struck like lightning.
The bond snapped into place.
Kael staggered back a step, breath tearing from his lungs as the connection locked tight, unbreakable and undeniable. His vision blurred for a heartbeat, instincts roaring to life with brutal clarity.
Mate.
Her head lifted slowly.
Their eyes met.
The shock on her face mirrored his own—but where his hardened into denial, hers softened into something fragile and terrified.
"No," he said aloud.
Elara flinched.
"This isn't possible," he continued, voice rising, sharp enough to draw attention. "You're an Omega."
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
"This is wrong," he snapped. "You must have done something. Some trick—"
Her eyes filled with tears.
That was when something in him broke.
Not into regret.
Into anger.
The bond pulled at him relentlessly, demanding recognition, acceptance, claiming her as his. His wolf surged forward, possessive and furious, but Kael crushed it down with iron will.
"I don't accept this," he said coldly. "Do you hear me? I don't want you."
The words landed like a slap.
Elara's face drained of color. She took a step back, as if struck, her hands trembling at her sides.
Kael felt the bond recoil—pain lancing through his chest—but he welcomed it. Pain was better than surrender.
"You will keep your distance," he continued, every word deliberate, cruel. "This was a mistake. One night. Nothing more."
Her voice finally broke through. "Kael… please."
The sound of his name on her lips twisted something deep inside him, but he hardened himself further.
"Don't," he warned. "You're embarrassing yourself."
She bowed her head in submission, the gesture instinctive and heartbreaking, and stepped away from him without another word.
Kael watched her go, jaw clenched so tightly it ached.
That should have been the end of it.
It wasn't.
The bond refused to be ignored.
By nightfall, his temper was frayed, his control razor-thin. Every time Elara passed within range, his wolf snarled, demanding he pull her close, protect her, claim her openly.
He responded with distance. With ice.
With hostility.
He reassigned her duties, moved her quarters farther from the main house, spoke to her only when absolutely necessary—and always with clipped indifference. The pack noticed. Omegas whispered. The council observed in silence.
And Elara endured it all quietly.
Days passed.
Then the news came.
Elara collapsed during morning chores, the pack healer called in a panic. Kael arrived just in time to hear the words that would shatter the fragile balance he'd forced into place.
"She's pregnant."
The world tilted.
Kael stared at the healer, at Elara lying pale and unconscious on the bed, at the undeniable truth crashing down around him.
Pregnant.
With his child.
The bond flared violently, burning through every wall he'd built.
This wasn't just a mistake anymore.
It was a disaster.
And for the first time since the bond snapped into place, Kael Blackridge felt something dangerously close to fear.