Kiera's POV
I was dying.
Not from killing Damien. Not from some magical bond-severing that should have destroyed me.
I was dying because I refused to eat the food they brought.
Three days. Seventy-two hours locked in this cell with nothing but my thoughts and the maddening pull of the bond connecting me to Theron.
Every moment, I felt him. Knew exactly where he was in this massive fortress. When he was angry—which was often. When he was confused—which was constant. When he thought about me, which was more than either of us wanted.
The bond was driving me insane.
My stomach cramped with hunger. My head pounded. My mouth felt like sand. The guards had brought meals three times a day, but I'd shoved every tray back through the bars untouched.
Why should I eat? Why should I make this easier for them?
If Theron wanted me healthy for whatever torture he had planned, he could drag me out of here himself.
My wolf whimpered weakly inside me. She didn't understand why I was hurting us. She only knew one thing—our mate was close and we needed him.
He's not our mate, I told her firmly. Damien was our mate.
But even I didn't believe that anymore.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Heavy. Purposeful. Familiar.
Through the bond, I felt Theron approaching before I saw him.
My traitorous heart beat faster.
The cell door swung open. Theron stood there holding a tray of food, his silver eyes taking in my appearance. I knew I looked terrible—three days without food or proper sleep had left me gaunt and shaking.
You need to eat, he said. Not a question. A command.
I stayed slumped against the wall. I need my sister safe.
Your sister isn't here.
Then I'm not hungry.
We glared at each other across the small space. The bond pulled tight between us, screaming at me to move closer, to touch him again like I had three days ago.
I ignored it.
Theron's jaw clenched. This is stupid. You're killing yourself.
Good. Saves you the trouble of executing me.
Something flashed in his eyes—anger mixed with frustration mixed with something that looked almost like... concern?
Then he did something completely unexpected.
He stepped into the cell and closed the door behind him, locking them both inside. Again.
What are you
Eat while we talk, he interrupted, setting the tray on the floor between us. Then he sat down across from me, casual as if we were having tea instead of a prison interrogation.
I stared at him. You're sitting in my cell.
I'm sitting in my cell. This entire fortress belongs to me.
You know what I mean.
Yes, and I'm choosing to ignore it. He gestured to the food. Eat. Or I'll force-feed you myself.
The scary thing was, I believed him.
My stomach betrayed me with a loud growl.
Theron's mouth twitched. Almost a smile. Your body is smarter than your stubbornness.
I wanted to keep refusing, to hold onto my anger and defiance. But the smell of fresh bread and roasted meat made my mouth water. My hands were shaking from weakness.
And Lyra needed me alive to save her.
I grabbed the bread and tore into it like a starving animal. Which, I supposed, I was.
Theron watched me eat without speaking. It should have been uncomfortable, having him study me so closely. But his presence did something strange to my wolf. She settled. Calmed.
With Damien, my wolf had always been anxious. On edge. Ready to submit or flee.
With Theron, she felt... safe.
How twisted was that? The man holding me prisoner felt safer than the mate who'd claimed to love me.
Tell me about your childhood, Theron said suddenly.
I nearly choked on the bread. What?
Your childhood. Your family. I want to know who you were before all this.
Why?
His silver eyes held mine. Because you're either the best liar I've ever met, or something very wrong is happening in my territories. Either way, I need to know which.
I swallowed hard, washing down the bread with water from the cup on the tray. What does my childhood have to do with anything?
Liars have patterns. Tells. They build lies on lies. But if you're telling the truth, your story will be consistent. Real. He leaned back against the wall. So talk.
I didn't know what game he was playing, but I was too tired to fight.
I grew up in Shadowmoon Pack, I began quietly. My parents were high-ranking wolves. Respected. My father was the pack's lead warrior. My mother was an advisor to the previous Alpha.
Were?
The old grief twisted in my chest. They died when I was sixteen. Rogue attack on the northern border.
Theron's expression didn't change, but through the bond I felt a flash of understanding. He'd lost his parents young too.
After they died, it was just me and Lyra, I continued. She was twelve. Scared. Grieving. I had to be strong for both of us.
So you raised her.
I did everything for her. Made sure she had food, clothes, training. Made sure she could still become a healer like she'd always dreamed. My voice cracked. I gave up everything to keep her safe. And then Damien—
I couldn't finish.
Used her to control you, Theron finished quietly.
Yes.
We sat in silence for a moment. I picked at the food, forcing myself to eat despite the knot in my stomach.
What was Damien like? Theron asked. Before. When you first met.
I thought back to that day six months ago. Charming. Powerful. When the bond snapped between us, everyone said we were perfect together. The Alpha and his future Luna.
But?
I looked up sharply. What makes you think there's a 'but'?
Because you killed him. Theron's gaze was intense. Perfect mates don't end with murder.
He was right.
He changed after we were engaged, I admitted. Got more controlling. Demanding. He didn't like when I spent time with Lyra. Didn't like when I questioned his decisions. But I told myself all Alphas were like that. Dominant. Possessive.
All Alphas are dominant, Theron said carefully. But not all of us are cruel.
Something in his voice made my chest tight.
How does this bond feel to you? I asked suddenly. The one between us. Is it different from I stopped, realizing I didn't know his history.
I've never had a mate before, Theron said. I've been searching for eleven years. Found no one.
Eleven years. My age when he started looking.
And now? I whispered.
His eyes flashed gold. Now I have a bond with a woman who murdered her previous mate. A bond that shouldn't exist. A bond that's stronger than anything I've read about in all the ancient texts.
The air between us felt electric.
Why does your presence calm my wolf? I asked. With Damien, she was always anxious. But with you
With me, she recognizes her true mate, Theron finished.
The words hung between us.
If you're my true mate, I said slowly, and Damien wasn't, then someone made me think he was. Someone created a fake bond strong enough to fool an entire pack.
Yes.
Who could do that? Who has that kind of power?
Theron's expression turned dark. Dangerous.
That's what I'm going to find out. Because if someone can create fake mate bonds— He stood abruptly. They can control wolves' entire lives. Force them into relationships. Break apart true mates before they ever meet.
I scrambled to my feet. You think that's what happened to us? Someone kept us apart on purpose?
I think someone very powerful has been manipulating mate bonds in my territories. And I think you and Damien were both victims. His hands clenched into fists. The question is why.
Before I could respond, footsteps pounded down the corridor. Fast. Urgent.
A guard appeared at the cell door, breathing hard. Your Majesty! Emergency message from Shadowmoon Pack.
Theron's whole body went tense. What is it?
The guard's face was pale. They found Damien's private study. There were documents hiddenexperiments, test results, names. He swallowed hard. Mate bond manipulation experiments. Dozens of them.
My blood turned to ice.
And? Theron demanded.
The guard looked at me, then back at the King.
They found Kiera's name on the list. But not as a victim.
He paused, and the next words shattered everything:
As a test subject marked for 'Phase Two: Breaking True Bonds.'