The scent of iron and burning sage filled the air as Lira was dragged forward, her bare knees scraping against the stone floor of the Bloodmoon Pack's ceremonial hall. The torches flickered, casting monstrous shadows of the watching wolves along the walls. At the center of it all stood Killian, Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack, his golden eyes gleaming with cold triumph.
"You don't have to do this," Lira spat, wrenching against the guards' grip. Her wolf snarled inside her, a trapped storm of fury and fear.
Killian didn't even blink. "I don't ask for things, little wolf. I take them."
The elders began chanting, their voices a low, guttural hum that made the air vibrate. Lira's pulse pounded in her ears. She had heard stories of forced bonds—of wolves who went mad, whose wills were shattered under the weight of an Alpha's dominance.
And now it was happening to her.
Killian stepped forward, his presence suffocating. He gripped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. "Look at me when I claim you."
"I'd rather rot," she hissed.
A flicker of something dark passed through his eyes, amusement. Then, without another word, he bit down on her mating gland.
Pain.
White-hot and searing, like a brand pressed into her soul. Lira screamed, her back arching as the bond snapped into place, a chain of fire wrapping around her ribs, tying her to him. The pack howled in approval, but all she could hear was the rush of blood in her ears, the echo of Killian's voice in her mind:
"Mine."
Then, just as suddenly as it began, it was over.
Lira collapsed forward, gasping, her vision swimming. Killian straightened, wiping her blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. His expression was unreadable.
"Take her to my chambers,"he ordered the guards. "She stays there until I decide what to do with her."
Lira bared her teeth, even as her limbs trembled from the bond's aftershocks. "I'll slit your throat the first chance I get."
Killian smirked. "I'd like to see you try "