RHYNA'S POV

I knew something was wrong the moment I heard shouting outside.

Not the angry kind, but the urgent kind.

Boots pounded against the ground.

Wolves barked orders. Someone groaned in pain, the pain was deep, wet, and broken.

The door to the hall opened, and two Shadowbound warriors dragged a body inside.

My breath caught.

Blood soaked through the man's clothes, dark and heavy. It trailed behind him, staining the floor. His head lolled to the side, his breathing uneven and weak.

Then I saw the markings on his arm.

Moonbeam Claw. My own.

My heart slammed painfully against my ribs.

"No," I whispered, already standing. "No... please..."

They dropped him near the fire pit like he was nothing more than a sack of meat. He cried out softly, his body jerking once before going still again.

I rushed forward before anyone could stop me.

"Let me help him," I said quickly, dropping to my knees beside him. My hands hovered over his wounds, already assessing, already planning. "He's mine. He's Moonbeam. I can save him."

One of the guards hesitated. Another scoffed.

"He won't last," someone muttered.

I ignored them, I pressed my hands to his chest. Blood soaked into my palms, warm and slippery. The wound was deep, too deep. A blade had torn through his side, missing nothing important and everything important at the same time.

His eyes fluttered open.

For a moment, they were empty, then recognition filled them.

"Rhyna...?" His voice was barely a breath.

My chest tightened. "Yes. It's me. Stay awake. Please. I'm here."

I tried to stop the bleeding, tried to slow it, tried to do something, anything, but the damage was too severe. I could feel it. His life was already slipping away.

He smiled weakly.

"You always... said we'd survive," he whispered.

Tears burned my eyes. "We will. Just hold on. Please."

He coughed. Blood stained his lips.

"They're winning," he said softly.

My hands froze.

"What?" I whispered.

"The Shadowbound... they're winning," he repeated. "We don't have healers anymore."

My breath shook.

"What do you mean?" I asked desperately. "Where are the others?"

His gaze drifted, unfocused now.

"Dead... scattered," he murmured. "The wounded... they're dying, Rhyna. No one is there to help them."

The world tilted.

My chest felt hollow, like something had been ripped out of me.

"I tried to keep them alive," he continued weakly. "But without you... without the healers... we can't..."

His voice broke.

"Everyone's dying."

A sharp pain tore through my heart.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry."

His fingers twitched, brushing mine.

"Not your fault," he breathed. "You were taken."

His eyes slowly dimmed.

"Live," he said. "Please... live."

Then his hand went still.

No one spoke.

I sat there, hands covered in his blood, staring at a body I could not save.

I was a healer who failed, a packmate who died because I wasn't there.

Guilt crushed down on me like a mountain.

My people were losing. They were bleeding out in the dirt, just like he had.

And I was here, among enemies.

My hands curled into fists.

This war wasn't just about what belonged to another anymore.

It was about blood owed...

******

I didn't move.

The body was taken away, but the blood stayed on my hands. I stared at it like it belonged to someone else. Like if I looked long enough, this would stop being real.

"Rhyna."

I flinched at the sound of my name. Alpha Conan stood a few steps away, his face hard, his eyes dark. The camp had gone quiet, but the tension was thick. Everyone was watching us.

I wiped my hands slowly on my dress and stood.

"What do you want?" I asked, my voice flat.

"There's a wounded wolf," he said. "Badly injured. You will heal him."

I laughed. The sound was sharp and bitter.

"No."

The word echoed louder than I expected. Murmurs rippled through the pack.

Conan's jaw tightened. "That wasn't a request."

I turned to face him fully. My chest burned, my heart aching with fresh grief.

"My people are dying," I said. "Did you hear that man? Did you hear what he said before he died in my arms?"

"You want me to heal your wolves," I continued, my voice shaking now, "while mine bleed out without help? While my pack loses everything?"

His eyes narrowed. "This war isn't your concern."

I laughed again, louder this time. "Not my concern? That was my packmate. My blood, my family."

"You are in my territory," Conan said coldly. "You will fucking obey my orders."

I stepped closer, anger finally overpowering fear.

"Who do you think you are?" I demanded. "Dragging me from the battlefield, keeping me here, and now ordering me to save the same wolves killing my people?"

His presence flared, heavy and sharp.

"And who do you think you are," he shot back, his voice low and dangerous, "to question me?"

The air between us felt like it might snap.

"You are abandoned here," he continued. "Your Alpha has done nothing, he didn't give a fuck when he learnt that his prized healer is here. There were no negotiations or even an attempt to stop this war or get you back."

The words hit harder than any blow.

I swallowed, my throat burning.

"You think you matter so much," he said, stepping closer, "but where is your pack now? Where is your Alpha?"

My hands curled into fists.

"I am important," I snapped. "Maybe not to you, but I matter to my people."

He scoffed. "If you did, this war would already be over." " You're just a mistake that I brought upon myself."

Something inside me cracked.

"Yes," I whispered bitterly. "I know."

My voice trembled, but I didn't stop.

"I'm just a lowlife omega, I remember correctly?" I said. "I'm replaceable, disposable and easy to lose."

His eyes flickered.

"My Alpha didn't come for me," I continued, the words spilling out now. "Not because I don't matter, but because omegas don't start wars."

The silence was suffocating.

"I was taken," I said quietly. "And they let it happen."

I lifted my chin, forcing myself not to cry.

"So don't stand there and tell me I'm nothing," I finished. "Because I already know."

For a moment, Conan said nothing.

His face was unreadable.

Then he turned sharply. "Bring the injured one."

Two wolves dragged another body forward.

This one was Shadowbound.

He was young, barely older than me. His breathing was shallow, blood soaking through his side. His eyes rolled back in pain.

I looked at him, and felt nothing but rage.

"No," I said again. "I won't help him."

Conan turned slowly.

"If he dies," he said, calm and cruel, "it will be on you."

I stared at him in disbelief.

"You'd use guilt?" I whispered.

"I'm using reality," he replied. "This is what healers do."

"That's what healers do for their own," I snapped.

His voice dropped. "You are not Moonbeam anymore."

That hurt more than anything else.

The wounded wolf groaned softly.

I closed my eyes.

Moon Goddess... why?

Why give me hands meant to save when my heart was breaking?

Slowly, I knelt and began attending to the wounded wolf.

Not because of Conan, not because of his order, but because I could not let another person die in front of me.

RHYNA'S POV

I spent the whole day treating the wounded, soldiers who were killing my people, soldiers of the Alpha who held me captive.

Every cut I stitched, every burn I bandaged, every grimace of pain I soothed reminded me of his words.

The insults echoed in my mind, sharper than any blade. My alpha didn't care that I had been taken, didn't care if I died, all because of some woman who wasn't him.

"What the hell was happening to my life? Oh moon goddess, please help me." I called out softly.

I was captured by an enemy who was Alpha waging war over another woman, and now I'm bonded to him... What kind of cruel, twisted fate was this?

"What the fuck are you still doing there?"

The deep, commanding voice jolted me from my thoughts. Alpha Conan stood several feet away, his piercing green eyes fixed on me.

"You've been staring at the wall for a while now," he said, his tone deceptively calm.

"If you're done, come with me. I want to show you something," he added, beginning to walk. His posture demanded obedience.

I bristled. I wasn't giving him the satisfaction.

"I'm tired. I want to go back to my room and rest," I said defiantly.

He stopped. Slowly, he turned back toward me, his expression hardening like stone. I could feel the heat of his fury even from here.

"I wasn't asking for your opinion. When I talk, I expect obedience. No words."

A chill ran down my spine. Truthfully, fear knotted in my chest. He looked like he could snap my neck without a second thought.

"No. I won't," I said, holding my ground, though my voice trembled slightly.

"Oh, yeah?" he murmured, the edge in his tone dangerous enough to make the air crackle.

He signaled to the guards with a flick of his hand.

"Drag her. Follow me."

I barely had time to react before rough hands seized me. I twisted, I kicked, I cursed, but it was useless. He slung me over his shoulder with ease, as if I weighed nothing, and strode forward, ignoring my struggles.

"Don't you dare touch me! Leave me the fuck alone!" I screamed, but my words were swallowed by the sound of his boots on stone.

We moved through narrow passages, down long hallways, until finally Conan stopped in front of a door. Without a word, the guard lowered me to the floor.

"Leave us," he commanded the guard.

"Why am I here? What's this place?" I demanded, eyeing the heavy door with suspicion.

He didn't answer immediately. Calmly, he produced a key and unlocked the door.

The moment I saw inside, my jaw dropped.

*******

He opened the door with a slow turn of the key, and the smell of old parchment and dust hit me first. The light inside was dim, flickering from a single lantern in the corner, casting long shadows across the walls.

Rows of shelves lined the room, crammed with ancient scrolls, worn books, and strange artifacts, jewels that pulsed faintly, metallic objects carved with symbols I didn't recognize, and small cages containing... things I couldn't quite place.

"What... what is this place?" I asked, my voice trembling despite my attempt to stay defiant.

Conan didn't answer immediately. He walked over to a pedestal in the center of the room and picked up a small, crystalline object, shaped almost like a heart, glowing faintly with an inner light.

My chest seized. That glow, it reacted to me. The light pulsed faster as I instinctively stepped closer.

"That... that's..." I started, but my words caught in my throat.

Conan's eyes held mine, unreadable, but there was a tension there I couldn't ignore.

"It's connected to you," he said quietly, almost reverently. "Not just to me... to you."

I shook my head, stepping back. "No... I don't belong here. I'm not part of this."

The crystal's glow flared, almost as if it disagreed.

And then I saw it, a faint outline on the floor, etched into the stone beneath the pedestal: symbols that looked like two wolves intertwined, bound by light.

"Your bond... it was foretold," Conan said. "Long before you even arrived, before your pack, before your life as you knew it... this was waiting."

My wolf howled softly, as if in agreement. Fear, awe, and a strange pull surged through me.

I wanted to scream, to run, to deny everything, but my body felt frozen. The air in the room seemed charged, alive, humming with something ancient and powerful.

I realized then, with a chill crawling up my spine, that this was no accident. My bond with him... it had been fated.

And whether I liked it or not, I was standing in the center of a destiny I couldn't escape.

RHYNA'S POV

"Long before you and I were born, Conan said, his voice low, serious, like he was speaking to the universe itself.

"There was a prophecy," he continued, his green eyes boring into mine. "An Alpha will be bound to an enemy... a healer who holds the power of life in her hands. Together... they will either bring the pack salvation or destruction."

I froze, my chest tightening. My hands curled into fists.

"Fuck you," I spat, cutting him off before he could continue. "What the fuck does that have to do with me? You must be very, very delusional."

My wolf growled sharply, a low, warning sound that vibrated through my chest. I knew exactly what it meant. It agreed with Conan.

But I didn't care.

"Fuck fate," I muttered, turning away, my jaw tight.

He didn't move. He simply stood there, arms folded, watching me as if my words were the ramblings of a child.

"Here," he said after a long pause, breaking the silence. "Take a look for yourself."

He handed me a scroll, heavy and ancient-looking, bound in gold threads that shimmered faintly in the dim candlelight. The weight in my hands felt like a challenge.

"What's this?" I asked, my voice sharp, skeptical.

"Read it," he said. There was no inflection, no patience, just quiet authority.

I grabbed the scroll roughly and unrolled it.

The paper was thick, brittle at the edges, and the writing inside... it was written in deep crimson ink that looked almost like blood. My stomach twisted as I read the words, and I felt my chest tighten.

"Amidst bloodshed and loss, when the moon hides its silver light, a healer shall enter the Shadowbound Claw Pack. The bond shall awaken, uniting the enemy and Alpha. Life and death will hinge upon her hands. From her will, the pack will either rise triumphant or fall to shadows. Only the courage of the unwilling shall determine the path of survival, and only the strength of the bonded hearts shall decide the fate of all."

I flung the scroll to the floor. Tears blurred my vision, and I sank to my knees, hands pressed over my chest. My heart slammed wildly, refusing to calm, refusing to accept what I had just read.

"That... that's not true," I whispered, my voice trembling, barely audible. "It can't be..."

I looked up. Conan was still standing there, arms crossed over his chest, eyes unreadable but sharp, piercing.

"This isn't me," I said, my words cracking. "You're mistaken, okay? You're... you're lying."

My wolf growled deep in my chest, fierce and insistent. Every hair on my arms stood on end. This wasn't a lie. It never felt like one.

"Please," I said, my voice breaking as I got to my feet. "Just... let me go."

I turned toward the door, wanting to escape, to run far away from this mess, this turmoil, this war raging in my chest and mind. Every step I took felt heavy, weighted with dread and exhaustion.

But he was faster.

Before I could reach the door, his hand wrapped around my wrist. His touch was firm, unyielding, and it sent a jolt of heat through me.

"Deny it all you want," he murmured, his voice low, dangerous, "but you know it's true."

His breath was warm against my cheek. His scent filled my senses, overwhelming me, pulling at something primal I didn't want to acknowledge.

I wrestled against him, desperate to free myself. "Leave me alone!" I shouted, trying to wrench my arm free.

He didn't let go. Instead, he stepped closer, closing the distance between us until his presence consumed me.

"And if not..." he whispered, dangerously soft, " don't make this hard for yourself. It's difficult enough on me already."

My hands froze in place. His words burned, hitting somewhere deep in me. I hated him. I wanted to punch him, to shove him, to escape the power he held over me. And yet... I couldn't.

"I'm the one who's supposed to be conflicted here," he said with a faint edge of pride, "not you."

I felt my blood boil. "And why is that?" I asked, my voice sharp, trembling with a mix of anger and fear.

Conan tilted his head slightly, his green eyes darkening. He studied me like I was a puzzle he'd been given the answer to, and I wanted to scream at him. My wolf thrashed inside me, angry, restless, rejecting, but there was nothing I could do to quiet it.

He said slowly, almost deliberately, ignoring my question "this bond... this fate... it doesn't care what you want."

My chest tightened, my throat burning.

"Then I'll fight it," I said, my words cutting through the tense air. "I won't be your Luna. I won't be bound to you. I won't let this stupid prophecy... or you... control me."

His lips curled, a mixture of amusement and frustration flickering across his face.

"You think you have a choice?" he asked quietly. "You think the Moon Goddess asked you? You think she waits for your permission?"

I took a step back, breathing hard, heart hammering. My wolf snarled, ears pinned, claws itching, and I knew we were both screaming the same defiance.

"I... I won't bow," I said. "I don't care what's written in your damned scroll. I'm not the healer you think I am. I'm not the enemy you think I am. And I'm not yours."

Conan's jaw tightened, but he didn't move. He simply watched me, still, calm, and somehow even more terrifying.

"You think this is just about you?" he asked, his voice low, dangerous. "You think this is punishment, or cruelty?"

I shook my head, angry, desperate. "I don't know what it is. I don't care! Just leave me alone!"

"You can run," he said, finally stepping closer again. "You can scream. You can fight. But every step you take, every beat of your heart... it's tied to me now. You felt it before. That heat, that fire? That's not just fear. That's the bond waking inside you."

I felt my stomach twist. My hands curled into fists, trembling. My wolf growled, whined, tried to push against the invisible chains tying me to him, but it was useless.

"I... I didn't ask for this," I whispered. "I didn't choose this."

"And neither did I," he said softly, almost vulnerable for the first time. "But the bond doesn't care about choice. It never will. It decides. It awakens. It punishes. And it protects. It binds us whether we like it or not."

I wanted to scream, to hit him, to throw something, to prove that I was still in control. But every time I opened my mouth, my voice faltered. Every step I took, the air seemed to pull me closer to him. Every breath I drew tasted of the bond, the prophecy, the inevitability I was fighting so hard to deny.

"You can keep denying it," he whispered, green eyes locking onto mine, "but your wolf already knows. Your heart already knows. The fire burning inside you isn't just rage. It's fate."

I shook my head violently. "No," I said, my voice cracking. "No. This isn't real. It can't be. I refuse to accept it."

Conan's lips curved faintly, a predator's smile. "You can refuse all you want," he murmured. "But the blood... my blood... your touch... it sealed it. There's no going back."

My hands flew to my chest instinctively, the heat of the bond radiating like a fire, making me shiver, making my knees weak. I could feel him in me, in my mind, in my wolf, even when he wasn't touching me. And I hated it. I hated it so much.

"You think this is easy for me?" he asked, voice low and dangerous. "Do you think I wanted this bond? That I wanted you? That I asked for this?"

I swallowed hard, trying to speak, to argue, to push him away. My wolf roared in frustration and fear, but I stayed on my feet.

"I didn't ask for it," I whispered again. "And I don't want it. I don't want you."

His eyes softened ever so slightly, just enough to make me doubt my own words. "You can fight it. You can scream. You can hate me. But it won't change what's already begun."

I felt my chest tighten, heat and fear and fury all colliding. I wanted to run, to escape, to deny, to fight. But even as I made for the door again, his presence filled the room, smothering, impossible to ignore.

"Don't make this hard for yourself," he said, his words teasing and dangerous. "It's difficult for me already. I'm the one who's supposed to be conflicting here, not you."

I froze.

"I..." I swallowed, jaw tight, fists clenching.

My wolf growled, lungs burning, heart hammering. "And why is that?" I demanded, defiance blazing through me despite the chaos in my chest.