Adriana struggled with the reality she had accepted. The supernatural world, once just an exciting fantasy, now surrounded her. Adrian, always calm and composed, became her anchor. Yet the more she trusted him, the more questions bubbled up.
One evening, she asked, "Why me?"
Adrian looked at her solemnly. "Because fate chooses, not us. But I'd choose you a thousand times over."
Still, the bond created unease. Sometimes she felt Adrian's emotions—his frustration when she doubted him, his protectiveness when she was around others. It was overwhelming.
The next morning, everything looked different—even the sunlight filtering through Adriana's window felt warmer, softer, as if the world had shifted overnight to accommodate this new reality.
She stretched in bed, her limbs aching from tension and adrenaline, but her heart carried a strange kind of calm.
Adrian was real. The bond between them was real.
And somehow, she had accepted it.
She sat up slowly and let her fingers drift across her neck where a phantom warmth lingered from the golden glow she'd witnessed hours earlier. The bond, he'd called it. Something ancient and unbreakable. A magic older than love itself.
Downstairs, she could hear voices—her mother's laughter mixing with Adrian's low rumble. That alone was strange enough to make her throw on a hoodie and rush down, half convinced it had all been a dream.
But there he was. In her kitchen.
Adrian was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with the ease of someone who belonged. His black T-shirt clung to his back, and his wild, tousled hair looked even more maddeningly perfect in the daylight. Her mother leaned against the counter, clearly charmed.
Adriana blinked. "What… is happening?"
Her mom grinned. "Your friend Adrian offered to cook. I couldn't say no."
Adrian turned, flashing that crooked smile that made her chest flutter against her will. "Morning, sleeping beauty."
Adriana crossed her arms. "You're way too comfortable here."
"I figured if I'm going to win you over, I should start with your mom," he said casually, placing a perfect stack of pancakes on a plate.
Her mom chuckled and left the room to take a call, leaving them alone.
"You stayed?" Adriana asked quietly, stepping closer.
Adrian's smile faded into something softer. "I wasn't going to leave you after last night. Not after that."
"The bond," she murmured.
He nodded. "It's still faint. Not fully sealed. But it's there. You accepted me."
"I haven't fully accepted everything," she admitted. "I'm still… processing."
"That's okay," he said, sliding a plate toward her. "Processing is allowed. As long as you're not running."
"I'm not running," she said, voice firmer than she expected. "But I'm not surrendering either. I need to understand this."
Adrian leaned against the counter, arms crossed, watching her with a gaze that always felt like fire and gravity all at once.
"Then let me show you."
---
Later that day, Adrian led her deep into the forest.
It was the same path where everything had changed the night before, but now the shadows didn't feel so ominous. Maybe because she wasn't alone. Maybe because she felt... tethered.
They reached a clearing filled with wildflowers and the remnants of an ancient stone circle. It pulsed faintly beneath their feet, humming with unseen power.
"This is where my ancestors used to meet under full moons," Adrian said quietly. "Where bonds were celebrated. Where Alpha vows were made."
Adriana knelt to touch one of the stones. It was warm, even in the shade. "Is this where you'll become Alpha officially?"
"I already am," he replied. "But the ceremony makes it sacred. When the full moon rises next week, I'll take the oath."
He looked at her. "And I want you there."
Adriana stood, brushing her fingers against his. "If I come... what does that mean?"
He stepped close—too close. "It means you stand by my side. As Luna. As the one I protect. The one I belong to."
Her breath caught. "Adrian…"
"You don't have to say yes. Not yet. But I want you to see what this world really is. The magic, the danger, the honor. I want you to see it and choose."
Adriana studied his face—the tension in his jaw, the softness in his eyes. He wasn't just some arrogant, possessive Alpha anymore. He was a man caught between his power and his vulnerability, waiting to be either accepted or rejected.
And despite the chaos of it all… she didn't want to walk away.
---
That evening, he brought her to the Crescent Moon compound—tucked deep in the forest, protected by enchantments and silent patrols.
The pack greeted her with wary curiosity. Some bowed. Others watched with unreadable expressions. But none disrespected her.
Adrian held her hand as he introduced her to the council, the warriors, the families.
"She's mine," he told them, without arrogance, just truth. "And she's under my protection. Which means she's under yours, too."
It was terrifying—and oddly empowering.
Adriana could feel the pull of the bond deepen. Not yet completed, but growing roots in her soul. When she looked at Adrian, the fear still lingered... but so did hope. And something more dangerous.
Want.
---
They stood on a balcony later that night, overlooking the training fields. Stars blanketed the sky, and a soft wind played with Adriana's curls.
"You're doing better than I expected," Adrian said, a smile in his voice.
"I feel like I've stepped into a fantasy novel," she admitted. "Werewolves. Fated mates. Magic forests."
"You've stepped into your story," he said. "And I'm just lucky I get to be part of it."
Adriana turned toward him, her voice barely a whisper. "If I take the next step… if I accept you fully… what happens then?"
Adrian's expression turned serious. "We complete the bond. Body, soul, spirit. It becomes unbreakable. You'll feel me—always. Even in your dreams. Even when I'm far."
"Will it change me?" she asked.
"Yes," he said honestly. "But only into who you were always meant to be."
A pause.
Then, slowly, Adriana reached up, placed her palm over his heart.
"I'm scared," she said.
"So am I."
They leaned in at the same time.
And as their lips met—slow, tentative, then burning—the moon seemed to rise faster, brighter, as if to bear witness.
Their story was no longer beginning.
It was unfolding.