Bound By Fire

Chapter 5: Bound by Fire

Fiona's POV

I woke with a start, gasping for breath as the remnants of a nightmare clung to me like a dark veil. For a moment, I wasn’t sure where I was, the heavy shadows of the unfamiliar room pressing in on me. But as I sat up, the weight of the silk sheets sliding down my shoulders, reality settled in.

The castle. My new life. Quinton.

I let out a shaky breath, running a hand through my tangled hair. Sleep had been elusive ever since the wedding. Every night I lay in this bed, wide awake, thoughts racing, emotions tangled. And every night, I wrestled with the same question: How had my life spiraled so completely out of my control?

The room was eerily quiet, save for the faint crackle of the fire burning low in the hearth. It cast long, flickering shadows across the stone walls, making the space feel even larger and more isolating. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to fight off the chill that had settled deep in my bones—not from the cold, but from the uncertainty gnawing at me.

Quinton. The name alone sent a confusing storm of emotions through me. The man who was my mate, my husband, my Alpha King.

I hadn’t seen him since the strained dinner we shared two nights ago, where we’d come to a tentative understanding. We were tied together by the Mate Bond, and no matter how much we fought it, it was our reality. But understanding that didn’t make it easier to accept.

I didn’t resent him—not anymore. The anger I’d held toward him, toward the bond, had dulled into something more complicated. There was a part of me that felt drawn to him, an undeniable pull that was hard to ignore. It was the bond, of course, doing what it was designed to do: unite mates, make them one. But how could I let myself fall into that when I hardly knew the man?

And then there was Phillip.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms as the memory of his betrayal washed over me. Phillip, the man I’d once loved, who had promised me forever—only to shatter that promise by choosing my sister.

I didn’t want to think about him, didn’t want to let the hurt resurface, but it was always there, lurking beneath the surface. As much as I wanted to move on, to focus on my new life, the pain lingered, a constant reminder of what I’d lost.

A knock at the door jolted me from my thoughts. I stiffened, my heart pounding in my chest. It was late, far too late for a servant to be calling on me. And yet, I knew who it was before I even spoke.

“Come in,” I called, my voice steadier than I felt.

The door creaked open, and Quinton stepped inside, his tall frame casting a shadow across the room. His presence was commanding, as always, but tonight, there was something different about him. He wasn’t dressed in his usual formal attire—instead, he wore a simple dark shirt and pants, his hair slightly disheveled as if he, too, had been struggling to sleep.

“Fiona,” he said, his voice low and rough around the edges. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“You didn’t,” I replied quickly, sitting up straighter. “I couldn’t sleep.”

He nodded, his gaze lingering on me for a moment before he stepped further into the room, closing the door behind him. The firelight played across his sharp features, highlighting the tension in his jaw. I could sense it—something was bothering him, something more than usual.

“Is everything all right?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop myself.

Quinton sighed, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the wall near the hearth. “It’s… complicated.”

I waited, unsure if he would continue. Our conversations had been so brief, so guarded, that I didn’t know what to expect from him. But tonight felt different, like there was something he needed to say.

Finally, he met my gaze, his blue eyes piercing in the dim light. “There’s something you need to know, Fiona. About us. About the bond.”

I felt a knot form in my stomach, dread creeping up my spine. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his fingers drumming against the stone wall behind him. “The Mate Bond—it’s stronger than we’ve been led to believe. Stronger than what we’ve been told by the elders, by the legends.”

I furrowed my brow, confused. “Stronger how?”

Quinton pushed away from the wall and crossed the room, stopping a few feet from me. The heat of the fire seemed to intensify as he spoke, his voice tight with tension.

“I’ve been doing research. I’ve been consulting with some of the older members of the pack, and… they’ve confirmed something that I suspected. The Mate Bond isn’t just a connection—it’s a fire. It binds us in ways we don’t fully understand, ways that can either strengthen us or destroy us.”

My heart pounded in my chest. “Destroy us?”

He nodded grimly. “If we fight the bond—if we resist it—it can break us. It can tear us apart, Fiona. Physically, mentally, emotionally. We’ve already felt it, haven’t we? The tension, the confusion, the pain.”

I swallowed hard, remembering the strange sensations I’d experienced since the ceremony. The inexplicable pull toward Quinton, the flashes of emotion that weren’t entirely my own, the way my body seemed to react to his presence even when I didn’t want it to. It had been disorienting, but I hadn’t realized it could be dangerous.

“What are you saying?” I whispered. “That we have no choice but to accept this?”

Quinton’s expression softened, and for the first time, I saw a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes. “I’m saying that we need to stop fighting it. I don’t want to see either of us suffer because of this bond. I know it wasn’t what we wanted, but it’s what we have. And if we keep resisting, it’ll only get worse.”

I stared at him, the weight of his words settling heavily on my shoulders. Part of me wanted to argue, to push back, to cling to the last remnants of control I had over my own life. But deep down, I knew he was right. The bond was already affecting us in ways I couldn’t fully understand, and if we kept pushing against it, I wasn’t sure what would happen.

But accepting it… accepting him… that was a different kind of pain.

“I don’t know how,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how to stop fighting it.”

Quinton’s gaze softened, and he took a step closer, his presence overwhelming in the small space. “Neither do I,” he said quietly. “But we can figure it out. Together.”

The word hung in the air between us, heavy with unspoken meaning. Together. Could we really be together, not just as mates bound by fate, but as partners in this life we hadn’t chosen?

I looked up at him, searching his face for any sign of deception, any hint that this was just another tactic to manipulate me. But all I saw was sincerity. Quinton wasn’t asking for my love, or even my trust. He was asking for a truce. For us to stop tearing ourselves apart and find a way to survive this together.

I swallowed hard, my throat tight with emotion. “Okay,” I said, my voice trembling. “I’ll try.”

He nodded, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “That’s all I ask.”

For a moment, we stood there in silence, the fire crackling softly in the background. It was strange, being this close to him without the usual tension or anger hanging between us. There was still a distance—an emotional gap that felt too wide to bridge—but it wasn’t as daunting as it had been before.

“Is that all you came to say?” I asked, trying to lighten the mood, though my voice was still shaky.

Quinton hesitated, his eyes flicking to the bed and then back to me. “I thought… Maybe we could talk. If you wanted to.”

“Talk?” I raised an eyebrow, unsure of where this was going.

He nodded, looking slightly uncomfortable for the first time since I’d known him. “I realize we’ve barely spoken since the wedding. And if we’re going to try to stop fighting this bond, maybe we should start by getting to know each other. Properly.”

I blinked, taken aback by his sudden willingness to engage in conversation. Quinton had always seemed so distant, so closed off, that the idea of sitting down and actually talking felt… strange. But maybe he was right. Maybe that was the first step toward figuring out how to live with this bond.

“Okay,” I said, motioning to the chair by the fire. “Let’s talk.”

He sat down, and I followed suit, settling into the chair across from him. The firelight cast a warm glow over his features, softening the hard lines of his face. For a moment, I found myself wondering what he was like before he became the Alpha King. What had shaped him into the man he was today?

We sat in silence for a few moments, both unsure of where to start. Finally, I broke the tension with a question that had been nagging at me since the wedding.

“What was your life like before all of this?” I asked softly. “Before the crown, before the Mate Bond?”

Quinton stared into the fire, his expression unreadable. “It wasn’t much different than it is now. I’ve always been expected to lead, to take on responsibilities I didn’t ask for. But back then, it felt less… isolating.”

“Isolating?” I echoed, surprised by his admission.

He nodded, his gaze still fixed on the flames. “When you’re the Alpha King, everyone looks to you for answers, for decisions. You can’t afford to show weakness, can’t let anyone see that you’re struggling. It’s lonely.”

For the first time, I felt a pang of sympathy for him. Being the Alpha King was a heavy burden to bear, and though I hadn’t fully understood it before, I could see now how much it weighed on him.

“I didn’t know,” I said quietly. “I didn’t realize how much you had to carry.”

He glanced at me, a flicker of surprise in his eyes. “You weren’t supposed to know. No one is.”

We lapsed into silence again, but this time, it wasn’t uncomfortable. There was a sense of understanding growing between us, a tentative connection that hadn’t been there before.

As we sat by the fire, sharing pieces of ourselves we’d kept hidden, I realized that maybe—just maybe—this bond wasn’t the cu

rse I’d thought it was. Perhaps, if we stopped fighting it, we could find something worth holding onto.

Together.