CHAPTER 25: BONDS

I watched her reaction, but it might as well have been a blank slate. If she felt anything, it was locked behind those amber eyes.

Explaining to a hybrid who had lived her whole life in the human realm how bonds worked—how they could shape, elevate, or destroy a wolf—was like asking a blindfolded fighter to parry a blade they didn’t know existed. She had no frame of reference, no inherited instinct for what it meant, and yet... she was standing here, about to walk into the fire of it.

"Ascension," I said at last, letting the word linger between us. "It isn’t a title. It’s a threshold. And the moment you cross it, you stop being what you are now." My gaze dragged over her slowly, not out of indulgence but assessment. "It’s all in your mark."

Her brow twitched—the first crack in the veneer—as she raised her hand to look at her wrist. "The tattoo?"

That was the part of her still tethered to the human realm, still seeing it as some kind of inscription.

"It is not a tattoo. It is the Lunar Crest. It will ascend through every phase of the moon to reach your final form," I finished. "Each phase—new, crescent, half, full—marks an awakening. But Kustav believes that a bond will be potent enough to let you ascend the way many have failed to do."

"That was his fucking reason?" she asked. "What does a bond have to do with ascension?"

"Bonds here are not like bonds where you come from, Lilith." I crossed the space between us, watching her eyes flare. "We wolves come in packs. That is what makes us strong, untouchable. Bonds here tether, crackle under our skin, and burn," I said, my voice low enough that it was almost a vibration between us.

I didn’t stop until I was close enough to see the faint rise of her pulse at her throat, the way her fingers curled ever so slightly at her sides. "Bonds here are alive, Lilith. They’re not a promise on paper or a polite exchange of rings. They hum under your skin. They pull—hard. They can steady you in a storm... or push you straight into it."

When I closed the space, Zver stirred, his focus narrowing on the faint thrum of her pulse, the way her scent shifted in the air.

Her breath caught, so subtle most would miss it.

"When the bond locks into place, it doesn’t just touch your heart or your mind. It threads through every nerve, every instinct. It sharpens your strength until it’s not just yours anymore—it’s ours. And that... is what can drag the Crest through its phases."

"So..." she gulped, breathless. "He wants to use the daddy-and-daughter bond as an excuse." Her gaze darted down to my lips before quickly flicking back to my eyes. "To have me close," she whispered.

Her pulse spiked under my hand. She masked it well, but her scent told a different story.

"Precisely." I pulled away and watched her release a breath.

She seemed to collect herself, or at least tried to play off the pounding of her heart and the shiver that had run up her spine. "So what is your plan?"

"Marry me." I could give her a dozen strategies, a hundred ways to dismantle Kustav—but none of them would protect her like this.

Her head jerked up, eyes wide, the mask cracking for the first time. For a moment she just stared, the way someone might when they’ve been handed a weapon they weren’t sure they wanted to touch.

I waited. Waited for the inevitable—her mouth twisting into a scoff, the sharp "no" that would follow, or the softer deflection that there had to be another way. I was prepared for reluctance, for argument, even for the request to let her sleep on it.

Instead, she extended her hand toward me.

The movement was deliberate, unhurried, and for a fraction of a second, it knocked the air out of my composure. My gaze dropped to the gesture, then back up to her face, a silent question flickering between us.

She smiled. Not the guarded curve I was used to, but something unarmored—genuine, unafraid. It made her look younger, freer... and far more dangerous to my resolve.

"Where’s the ring, Alpha?"

For a man who built his life on anticipating every move before it was made, her answer was... disarming.

For all her inexperience in our world, there was certainty in her acceptance that didn’t belong to someone still straddling the human realm. No hesitation. No bargaining. Just... trust—or perhaps something far sharper, something I’d have to name later.

"You wanted to marry me and you didn’t think to get me a ring?" There was playful accusation in her tone.

I blinked, still not understanding how she wasn’t panicking in the slightest. "You will be bonded to me. You will be my chosen mate. I will have to claim you."

Her smile only widened. "The first night here, I offered you a proposition. In exchange for helping me destroy Kustav, I promised you my submission—my body and soul. You want your Veil fixed, and I want a bastard six feet deep. This is an exchange. But only if you agree to my terms."

"Yes." The word left me without hesitation. "Then we’re partners, Lilith."

Her smile bloomed so suddenly, so fully, that it startled me—every tooth visible, amber eyes brightening as if I’d handed her the moon.

"In every way?" she asked, and the hope threading her voice did something to me I couldn’t quite name.

I managed a single nod before she shocked me—closing the distance in a blur, her arms flinging around my neck, momentum forcing me a half step back. The sudden press of her body, the warmth of her breath near my ear, the unrestrained joy in the sound she made—it was all so unlike the calculated exchanges we’d been trading until now.

My hands, almost on instinct, settled at her waist to steady her, feeling the faint tremor running through her. She was light, yet her presence landed heavy in my chest, an imprint that would not fade quickly.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Zver bristled, pulsing forward, brushing against the edges of my subconscious. He liked her warmth pressed against us—liked it too much.

"Such a manwhore."