Chapter 3 Mating Bond I Think The Moon's Drunk ‎

‎The woods are quieter than they should be.

‎Moonlight drips through the branches in silvery pools, catching on every breath of mist curling above the forest floor. Somewhere behind me, laughter breaks out from the clearing; the sound of my brother's pack celebrating, clinking glasses, and probably howling to some ridiculous love song.

‎Jamie deserves it. He's finally happy, finally mated to someone who looks at him like the stars rearranged themselves just to spell his name. Dominic's good for him. Strong, loyal, the Beta everyone secretly wants to have their back.

‎And me?

‎I'm out here talking to trees like they care.

‎I kick at a root, watching dirt scatter. My chest still feels tight not from the speeches or the tears, but from that moment earlier, when my eyes accidentally met Rowan Blackthorn's across the ceremony grounds.

‎Rowan - Alpha, local legend, walking storm cloud.

‎The man who once told me I was "reckless, loud, and impossible to control."

‎He wasn't wrong, but he didn't have to say it like he was carving it into my soul.

‎And yet, when he looked at me tonight, something was... off. Like the world tilted an inch, and the air went strange and heavy. My pulse wouldn't settle, no matter how much I pretended it was just nerves.

‎"Get a grip, River," I mutter, dragging a hand through my hair. "You're not falling for that again."

‎Except I can feel something, a strange heat low in my chest, a tug that isn't mine. It's subtle but constant, like a thread winding tighter the deeper I walk.

‎Leaves rustle behind me. My wolf stirs before I even turn.

‎He's there.

‎Rowan Blackthorn.

‎Standing just beyond the tree line, half in shadow, half lit by moonlight. His black shirt sleeves are rolled up, his collar open, and that unreadable expression he wears like armor hasn't cracked once.

‎"River," he says, voice low, too calm, too deliberate.

‎I hate how my name sounds coming from his mouth.

‎And I hate even more how much I don't.

‎"Following me now, Alpha?" I cross my arms. "Careful, people might think you're obsessed."

‎His jaw tightens, but his eyes, gods, those eyes, stay on me. Steady. Piercing.

‎"You left the ceremony without saying goodbye."

‎"I wasn't aware I had to check out with management."

‎His lips twitch. "You're impossible."

‎"And you're predictable," I shoot back. "So why are you here, Rowan? Need to practice your brooding in nature?"

‎He takes a step closer. I don't move back, but every nerve in me lights up.

‎Something's wrong. The air between us is thrumming, like static before lightning. My wolf's heartbeat syncs with his, an echo that shouldn't exist.

‎"I came to make sure you were all right," he says.

‎I snort. "Oh, sure. The Alpha cares. That's new."

‎But when he steps even closer, the sarcasm dies in my throat. His scent; pine, smoke, and something darker floods my senses. I can't breathe. I can't think.

‎Rowan's eyes flash gold for a second. "Do you feel it too?"

‎That voice. That look.

‎My heart slams into my ribs. "Feel what, exactly?"

‎He swallows hard, like the words are ash on his tongue.

‎"The bond."

‎I laugh a sharp, nervous sound. "Yeah, right. The Moon Goddess must be drunk if she thinks this" I gesture between us, my hand shaking slightly, "is a good idea."

‎Rowan doesn't smile. He just watches me, his expression equal parts fury and something terrifyingly tender. "I didn't want this either, River."

‎"Then reject it," I snap. "You're Alpha. You can do whatever you want."

‎He closes the distance before I can step away, his breath brushing my cheek, his eyes searching mine like he's fighting himself every second.

‎"You think I haven't tried?" he says softly. "You think I haven't been fighting this since the moment you walked back into my territory?"

‎The world goes still. The only sound is my pulse roaring in my ears.

‎Moonlight spills over us, and the bond thrums between us alive, undeniable, and furious.

‎"Rowan..." I whisper, and it's not a plea, but it's close.

‎He exhales shakily. "I don't know what the Moon wants, River. But I can't walk away anymore."

‎And before I can come up with something sarcastic, something safe he reaches out.

‎His fingers brush mine. Just barely.

‎The bond ignites.

‎Heat sears up my arm, racing through every vein, every hidden part of me that's still his no matter how hard I've tried to bury it.

‎I jerk back, heart pounding. "No. No, this isn't real. It's not..."

‎But his eyes say otherwise.

‎And the bond hums again, deep and certain.

‎Maybe the Moon's drunk.

‎Or maybe, just maybe, I am.

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