When I woke up, I knew he was watching me.
Not with eyes, not with claws, but with the weight of expectation that lingered in every corner of my room. The mark burned faintly on my wrist—a constant reminder of last night's humiliation and the bond that refused to bend. Every pack in the valley had an Alpha, every Luna had a bond, and yet here I was: marked, untouched, untamed.
I dressed slowly, deliberately, each motion precise. I would not give him the satisfaction of fear, of trembling, of weakness. I had survived rejection once; I could survive the storm to come.
Outside, the pack courtyard buzzed with subtle tension. Wolves moved like living shadows, silent but aware. Every pair of eyes flicked toward me, whispers barely masked as conversation. She carries the mark. She feels nothing. The Alpha cannot control her.
Perfect.
I walked through the courtyard, each step measured, as though I could command the attention of the pack simply by being. Some lowered their heads in respect. Others looked away, cautious, fearful, uncertain. I ignored all of it. My gaze was fixed ahead, toward the Alpha.
He appeared without announcement. Draven. Towering, magnetic, dangerous. Every wolf in the courtyard flinched instinctively, but I did not. His gaze landed on me like a blade, dark and precise, calculating everything I was—and everything I refused to be.
"Selara." His voice carried across the open space, low, deliberate, lethal.
I lifted my chin. "Draven."
He stopped a few paces from me, eyes narrowing. "You walked out last night without a word. You should have knelt, pleaded, at least… acknowledged the bond."
"I acknowledge nothing," I said. Calm. Cold. Truthful. My pulse was steady, my mind clear. The mark throbbed faintly, but it did not command me.
Draven's jaw tightened. The Alpha who had rejected me now faced a truth he could not bend to his will: control over me was an illusion. Obedience was a game I did not play.
"Do you even understand what that mark means?" he demanded, voice low but dangerous. "It's a bond. It ties your body, your soul, to me. It's meant to consume you, to make you mine, whether you want it or not."
"I am not yours," I replied evenly. "The bond may mark me, but it does not own me."
He took a step closer. Air shifted around him, magnetic and suffocating. The Alpha's presence pressed against me, and yet, my heartbeat remained unchanged. My body, my mind—they were mine. And yet, I could sense the obsession that had begun to coil around him like a living thing.
"You will regret this," he murmured, almost to himself. "You don't understand the consequences of defiance. The pack will not stand by you forever."
"And what will you do?" I asked, letting the words fall lightly, almost like a challenge. "Kill me? Cast me out? Everyone already saw you reject me. Your power over me is… diminished."
Draven's lips curved into a sharp smile. "You are bold. Recklessly bold. And yet… I am drawn to you. Every look, every word, every defiance—it ignites something I cannot extinguish."
I held his gaze. "Then perhaps you should leave me be. Obsessed or not, I will not yield to threats, whispers, or your power. Not now. Not ever."
By midday, whispers had spread through the pack. Wolves could not ignore the storm between us. Some admired my defiance. Some feared it. Every glance carried weight, every movement was analyzed. I had learned long ago how to use attention as armor. Calm, composed, untouchable—that was my strength.
Draven appeared again, silent, a shadow merging with the forest edge.
"Selara," he called, voice low but commanding. "Come with me."
I raised an eyebrow. "Why? To humiliate me again? Or remind me I am your mark?"
"Neither," he said, hesitation in his step. "To speak. Alone."
A trap? Most likely. But ignoring him would only fuel obsession. I preferred to meet danger head-on.
"Fine," I said. "Lead the way."
The forest was alive with scent and shadow. Pine and earth, cold frost underfoot, carried the scent of the pack and the faint trace of Draven himself. Each step was deliberate, calculated. The Alpha who had rejected me moved beside me, controlled, precise, his aura like a storm pressing against me.
Finally, we reached a small clearing bathed in moonlight, frost glittering like broken stars. He stopped, turned, and studied me as though trying to decipher a puzzle that refused to fit.
"You don't understand what you've done," he said softly, dangerously. "You challenged me publicly, refused the bond, and yet…" His eyes flicked to my wrist. "…the mark remains."
I lifted my sleeve, letting the faint glow catch the moonlight. "It remains because it does. But it obeys nothing. You cannot force it to bind me to you."
Draven's eyes darkened further. "You are bold, Selara. Recklessly bold. And yet… I cannot look away. I cannot stop thinking of you, of this defiance, of the spark you refuse to give."
I remained steady, calm, unshaken. "Then perhaps you are not as untouchable as you think."
He smiled then, predatory, dangerous. "You may not bend. But I will not walk away. Not from the mark, not from you. The pack, the bond, even the Moon Goddess herself will not save you."
"And if I do nothing?" I asked softly. "If I continue to defy you?"
His eyes flared with stormy intensity. "Then I will break you. Slowly. Piece by piece. Until the moment you cannot deny what you are… mine."
A chill ran down my spine, not from fear, but from recognition. He would not relent. The Alpha who rejected me publicly would not rest until I was undone. Yet I understood, in that moment, that this was the start of something neither of us could control.
I stepped back, lifting my chin. "Try all you want, Draven. I will not bend."
He smiled again, sharper now, a predator satisfied with the hunt. "Good. I would not have it any other way."
The wind whispered through the trees, carrying the scent of frost, pine, and him. My heartbeat remained steady, deliberate. Tonight I survived. Tonight I endured. But tomorrow… tomorrow the real game would begin.
Because I was Selara—the Luna who could not feel.
And he was Draven—the Alpha who could not control.
And the storm between us… had only just begun.