CHAPTER 8

Rylan's POV

The nightmare resurfaced before I even realized I had dozed off.

It always began the same way: moonlight streaming over the old Silverfang courtyard, which no longer existed. Wolves encircled. Distant shouts echoed. And Selena's voice, soft, warm, and familiar, called my name.

"Rylan."

In the dream, I always turned toward her, convinced she was my anchor. My sanctuary.

In reality, she had been the catalyst that burned everything down.

The scene shifted, as nightmares do, too quickly, too sharply. The courtyard was abruptly filled with smoke. Rogues flooded the walls, slipping in through the concealed tunnel that only Selena knew about.

I remembered that moment vividly-how my heart tightened, how my wolf struggled to break free, sensing betrayal before my mind caught up.

Selena's figure emerged through the smoke.

Unafraid.

Not fleeing.

Waiting.

I reached for her in the dream, just as I had done in the past. "Selena, get back inside! It isn't safe!"

She smiled.

Not lovingly, no.

With triumph.

With something chilling.

"Rylan... this is what you drove me to," she said. "You ignored me. You made me feel unwanted. Now you'll understand."

My stomach twisted with the same dread I'd felt years ago.

The rogues charged. The pack roared in defense. And Selena merely stepped aside, allowing the intruders to enter.

Trust.

Shattered.

My wolf howled in agony.

I lunged for her

but the dream yanked me backward, pulling me through fire, smoke, and despair.

"Rylan."

Her voice echoed again, but this time it wasn't Selena.

It was Ella's.

Light pierced the memory, shattering the nightmare. A warm hand landed on my shoulder.

My eyes flew open.

Ella's POV

He appeared different while he slept.

Not cold. Not unapproachable.

Humans.

His breath came rapidly, uneven as if he were battling something invisible. I had only intended to place the stack of newly delivered documents on his desk, not wake him. But when he jolted in the chair, murmuring something pained and harsh, instinct drew me closer.

"Rylan," I said softly.

His eyes opened wide, golden, sharp, and wild.

For a brief moment, he didn't recognize me. His hand gripped the armrest as if expecting an attack.

"It's just me," I whispered.

Gradually, so gradually, his expression softened. The tension in his shoulders eased, but the storm in his eyes remained.

"You were having a nightmare," I said.

He looked away. "I don't have nightmares."

"Yes, you do," I replied gently. "And that's okay."

He flinched, barely perceptibly, but I noticed it. He didn't like being seen. Not like this.

Not vulnerable.

I stepped back, giving him space. "I didn't mean to intrude. I can leave..."

"No."

The word escaped him too quickly, too harshly.

He cleared his throat. "Stay."

I hesitated, then nodded.

He ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. "What did you hear?"

"Nothing clear," I answered honestly. "Just... pain."

He tensed again.

I moved to the window rather than press him. "The pack is still murmuring about Selena. I don't know what happened, but I can tell it wasn't something minor."

Silence enveloped us.

A long, heavy silence.

Then...

"She betrayed me."

The confession was soft... but it sliced through the room like a knife.

I turned to face him.

Rylan Wolfe, the Alpha King, looked drained. Not weak. Not vanquished. Just... in pain.

"She permitted the rogues into my domain. To the very heart of the pack." His voice was void. "Lives were lost because I trusted her."

My heart ached. "Rylan..."

"I do not seek your pity." He abruptly stood, restless and unable to be still. "Or your understanding."

"I didn't extend either," I replied softly.

He came to a halt.

"Everyone bears their history," I continued. "Yours is clearly... laden with suffering. But that doesn't diminish your resilience."

His jaw clenched. A swirl of emotions danced in his eyes-rage, bewilderment, defiance.

"Ella," he stated, his voice rough, "you should be cautious of me. I'm not-"

"I'm not scared."

The words slipped from my mouth before I could stop them.

A long sigh escaped him, one that had been stored inside for far too long.

"Go get some rest," he eventually said, turning away. His tone attempted to sound commanding, but it now held a crack. A small one. A sincere one.

I nodded and made my way toward the door.

Just before I left, I glanced back one last time.

Rylan was standing with his hand pressed against the wall, shoulders slumped, as though the shadows of his past were clinging to him.

I wished to reach out. To offer some solace, understanding, anything.

But not yet.

We weren't prepared.

As the door clicked shut behind me, I leaned against it for a moment.

Rylan Wolfe...

He was a storm.

A hurt ruler.

A man carrying too much isolation.

And I wasn't certain if I was meant to heal him...

...or be shattered by the burden of his grief.

Ella's Perspective

Tonight, the Silverfang grounds buzzed with lively energy; wolves moved purposefully, guards appeared on edge, and the atmosphere resonated with something timeless. I already knew the cause of this heightened tension.

The full moon.

I should have stayed in my room like the other humans during the rising of the moon. Yet an undeniable force beckoned me, gentle, persistent, and completely inescapable. A feeling in my chest, as if an unseen thread was tightening around my heart.

I stepped outside.

Moonlight poured over the courtyard in glistening silver streams. The moment it kissed my skin, I inhaled sharply. A wave of warmth coursed through me, powerful, electric, and terrifying.

"What... what is happening?" I whispered.

My awareness sharpened. Every sound became amplified, the rustling of leaves, the heartbeat of a guard just a few steps away, the faint growl resonating from the distant trees.

Then I sensed him.

Rylan.

His presence hit me like a spark. Not physically, but something deep within me responded to him. I was irresistibly drawn to him. I recognized him.

No, no... this couldn't be real.

I turned, my heart pounding.

He was a few yards away, partly hidden in the shadows, his eyes glowing a molten gold under the moonlight.

But he wasn't just staring at me.

He was being pulled toward me.

"Ella..." His voice was rougher than normal, strained.

I swallowed hard. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

He moved closer, his breath unsteady, as if he was fighting something inside himself. His wolf, the wild and unchecked side he typically kept closely guarded, was trying to break free.

"You should be inside," he said, though it didn't come off as a command. It felt more like a plea. "This moon... it changes everything."

"It's changing you," I whispered.

His jaw tightened, his gaze locked onto mine. "It's changing us."

A shiver ran down my spine.

"Rylan... what's happening to me?"

He exhaled sharply, almost in distress. "The moon enhances everything. Instinct. Power. Bonds."

The word lingered heavily in the space between us.

Bonds.

I stumbled back. "No. No, that's impossible. You said... you said there was no bond. That it was merely a...."

"A twist of fate." His voice trembled. "I know what I said."

He took another step closer. I could sense the heat radiating from him, the intensity of his energy wrapping around me like a magnetic force.

"But you feel it, don't you?" he murmured.

My breath caught in my throat.

Yes.

Gods, yes.

This tug, this warmth, this understanding I had never felt anything like it before. It seemed as though my soul recognized him, even though my mind resisted.

"I don't want this," I murmured. "Not with someone who can't stand me."

His expression flickered with a mix of pain and frustration before his Alpha mask solidified.

"Ella, look at me."

I did.

And the world came into sharper focus.

The moonlight grew brighter. The air became thicker. My heart raced in harmony with his. We stood uncomfortably close yet still too far apart.

His hand slowly moved, as if fighting against gravity. His fingers brushed my wrist.

A jolt real and tangible passed between us.

I gasped.

Rylan's eyes widened before narrowing with a mix of intensity that was both fierce and hopeless. "The mate bond," he whispered intensely. "It's awakening."

My legs felt unstable. "No. No, that can't be...."

Yet when he touched me again first on my shoulder, then on my cheek every part of me responded as though it had been yearning for that connection.

For him.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears.

"You're... my mate?" The question quivered as I spoke it.

He swallowed hard, his throat shifting. "Yes," he replied, voice low and filled with pain. "And the moon acknowledges it, even if I wish it weren't true."

My heart cracked.

Not shattered.

Not broken.

But profoundly and agonizingly cracked.

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

"Neither did I."

He suddenly pulled back, creating distance as instincts threatened to overpower reason.

The absence of his touch hurt more than it should have.

"Go inside, Ella," he urged, breathing heavily. "If you stay out here, I can't control what my wolf might do."

My heart tightened. "Rylan...."

"Please."

A single word.

Tender. Raw. Naked.

I had never heard him convey anything like that.

I turned to leave, as staying felt dangerous in a way I wasn't ready for. But just as I approached the steps, his voice stopped me.

"Ella."

I looked back.

His eyes shone brightly again, but not with anger.

With something far more intimidating.

"Don't think for a second," he said softly, "that I don't feel it as well."

Rylan's viewpoint.

As soon as she entered, I let my wolf emerge. My vision transformed into a golden haze. My claws nearly tore into my own skin.

She was my mate.

Fate had tied her to my essence.

And I despised it.

No. I didn't hate her.

I loathed how she made my defenses tremble. How the bond forced me to confront feelings I had hidden. How her scent had become woven into my very being. How the moon itself urged me to draw closer to her.

I placed a hand on my chest, struggling to breathe.

"She's mine," my wolf snarled.

"No." I forced the words out through gritted teeth. "We don't want a mate."

But my wolf replied coldly:

You don't want one.

I have always desired one.

I shut my eyes, bracing for the storm within me.

Ella Hart was not merely my spouse by arrangement.

She was my weight.

My weakness.

My fate.

And no matter how fiercely I resisted,

I felt myself giving in.