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Chapter 44
Last Updated:
2024-12-28 19:27:54
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Darkbound Mate Chapter 45
A week has passed since my date with Kassian, and the grueling days on set have left me physically drained but no closer to peace of mind. Today, with some rare free time, I find myself craving an escape. At first, I thought staying at home would help, but the silence of my sprawling mansion feels oppressive, magnifying the whirlwind of thoughts I can’t seem to escape.Since the date, Kassian hasn’t called or texted. Neither have I. My pride refuses to let me reach out first. If he isn’t going to make the effort, why should I? I won’t chase someone who swings between being the embodiment of warmth and charm one moment and an aloof, impenetrable fortress the next.My chest tightens, frustration mingling with an ache I can’t shake. Why do I let myself endure this emotional tug-of-war? I like him. Maybe I even love him. Or maybe it’s just infatuation, a desperate yearning to resolve feelings that never fully bloomed.Or, worse, what if it’s something else entirely? What if my connection t
Last Updated : 2024-12-29Darkbound Mate Chapter 46
Quincy and I are in the kitchen, the soft hum of the stovetop blending with the rhythmic clatter of utensils. The air is heavy with the rich aromas of dinner—the smoky scent of sizzling vegetables, the sweet warmth of baking brownies, and the faint tang of something spicy simmering on the stove. It feels strangely comforting, like stepping back into a part of my life I’d almost forgotten.We’re catching up, sharing snippets of the years I’ve missed. Or rather, Quincy is doing most of the talking. She rattles on like a runaway train, her words tumbling over each other as though she’s afraid the silence might swallow her whole. I’m content to let her fill the space, listening as I carefully slice the brownies into neat squares, their edges still warm and slightly gooey under the blade.Quincy’s voice rises, animated and bright, as she recounts the girls’ antics—how much they’ve grown, their mischief, their quirks. It’s a warm, nostalgic flow of chatter that makes the kitchen feel cozier
Last Updated : 2024-12-29Darkbound Mate Chapter 47
I bite down on the rising unease in my chest and quickly gather the brownies and muffins from the tray, carrying them to the dining table. The smell of chocolate feels oddly comforting, but it does little to ease the tension crackling in the air like an approaching storm.Quincy follows me, carrying her own plate of food, though her movements are shaky. Tears streak her face again as she sets the plate down with a clatter. Her sobs start to break free, and the sight of her crumbling is like a punch to the gut.I place a hand on her shoulder gently, trying to steady both her and myself. “Just calm down, Quincy. She has nothing on you.”Quincy shakes her head violently, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. “She does!” she cries, her voice breaking.I crouch slightly so I can meet her eyes, my voice firm yet soothing. “Quincy, you are not ugly. You’re gorgeous and charming. Your blonde hair doesn’t make you ugly—it makes you the beauty you are now. And your eyes? They aren’t hideous. Th
Last Updated : 2024-12-29Darkbound Mate Chapter 48
I rack my brain, my thoughts churning like a storm-tossed sea, trying to figure out what to do about this. The Tyson I know might not be who he is now, but why does it feel like all of this is some cruel trick? My chest tightens with the weight of it, a suffocating pressure that makes it hard to breathe. It’s not just because I’ve known him the longest—though that thought nags at me like a splinter in my mind. No, it’s something deeper. A conviction that Tyson would never betray Quincy.The room around me feels cold and lifeless. The faint hum of the refrigerator buzzes in the background, the air tinged with the aroma of food. The gray light from the overcast sky filters through the window, casting everything in muted tones, as if the world itself mirrors the heaviness in my heart.I’ve always admired their relationship. The kind of bond they share seemed impossible to me, a skeptic who scoffs at the idea of true love. But with them… I don’t know. Something about Tyson and Quincy made
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“Now,” I say, standing abruptly, “we need to do something about you.”Her brows knit together in confusion, but I don’t wait for her response. I head to her closet, the scent of lavender sachets mingling with the faint mustiness of unworn clothes. Quincy isn’t into fashion, and her wardrobe reflects it—practical, plain, uninspired. But hidden among the dull fabrics, I find a single piece that stands out. It’s seductive, strappy, and green—a shade I know Tyson loves.“Put this on,” I say, tossing it at her. She catches it, staring at it like it’s a foreign object.“Why?” she asks, her voice hesitant.“Trust me,” I reply, rolling my eyes when she doesn’t move. “Just put it on.”She struggles with the straps, and I sigh, stepping in to help her. As I fasten the last one, I can’t help but marvel at how stunning she looks. The dress clings to her curves in all the right ways, the green fabric making her skin glow. Her hair falls messily over her shoulders, but I take a curling iron and som
Last Updated : 2024-12-29Darkbound Mate Chapter 50
I go downstairs for a glass of water, the sound of my bare feet on the wooden steps echoing in the stillness of the house. The faint hum of the refrigerator greets me in the kitchen, along with the earthy smell of freshly brewed tea that someone must have made earlier.Tyson stands by the counter, a glass of cold water in his hand. He doesn’t notice me at first, and for a moment, I just watch him. His presence is grounding, though it does nothing to lighten the ache in my chest.“Hey,” I murmur softly, my voice barely audible.He glances up, offering a faint smile. The warmth in it should comfort me, but instead, it only deepens the emptiness I can’t seem to escape.The kitchen feels colder than it should, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the silence as Tyson looks at me from beneath his dark lashes. His innocent smile, paired with the casual way he sips his water, does little to ease the storm inside me. I smirk, masking the ache in my chest. “Somebody’s been busy with ‘activ
Last Updated : 2024-12-29Darkbound Mate Chapter 51
Kassian’s POVLying on my bed, I stare at my phone, my hand braced under my head as my thumb swipes down to refresh the chat for the hundredth time. The screen remains stubbornly unchanged, her last read message glaring back at me like a taunt.It’s been two days since I sent it: “I miss you.” The moment I hit send, I realized what I was doing and tried to delete it, but Fenrir surged forward, wresting control of my body with a growl. ‘Let her see it,’ he had snapped, his voice brimming with frustration. A week without her had pushed him—and me—to the edge of sanity.If I’m honest, I didn’t want to stop him.It would be so easy to let her in. To tell her the truth and stop pretending to be someone I’m not. But I’ve seen what happens when you care too much, when you let someone get too close. They leave, or worse—they’re taken.Fenrir scoffs, his voice cold. ‘You’re scared.’‘I’m smart,’ I counter. Letting Lynette in would only give her the power to destroy me. And when—not if—she does
Last Updated : 2024-12-30Darkbound Mate Chapter 52
The café smells of freshly brewed espresso, warm pastries, the faint, earthy hint of wood, and the scent and emotions of the people in the café. The bell above the door jingles as I push it open, and a gust of cool air follows me in, ruffling the edges of my jacket. Wooden tables, their surfaces worn smooth by years of use, reflect the muted golden light of hanging lamps. Outside, the faint patter of rain against the windows adds a softness to the hum of conversations and the occasional clang of cups. But none of it registers fully because she’s here.I see her before she sees me. Lynette sits at a small table by the window, her ocean-green eyes catching the afternoon sunlight, making them shimmer like glass over shallow waves. Her frosty blonde hair cascades over her shoulders in effortless waves, the pale strands glowing like spun silk. She looks up as I enter, and her cherry blossom pink lips curve into a smile so radiant it pierces straight through my chest.She’s not wearing make
Last Updated : 2024-12-30
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Across the room, Kassian remains unmoving. His mind is a haze of static, his thoughts tangled in a thick web of denial. He watches them press their hands against Lynette’s lifeless form, listens to their frantic attempts to revive her, but none of it registers. She’s not dead.She’s just… sleeping.She’ll wake up soon. She has to.Something deep inside him pulses, hollow and aching. The mate bond—the once-constant hum of connection—has been severed, leaving behind nothing but a vast, unbearable emptiness. He feels it, deep in his soul, but he refuses to acknowledge it. Because if he does—if he admits, even for a second, that she’s really gone—he won’t survive it.His hands twitch at his sides, clenching and unclenching as his thoughts spiral.How do I live without her?How does he wake up every morning without hearing her voice? Who will roll their eyes at his brooding and call him dramatic? Who will compliment his cooking but vehemently love it more than anything? Who will read him li
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A quiet hum drifts through the dimly lit office as Oliver methodically sorts through scattered documents, the faint scent of paper mixing with the lingering traces of Kassian’s scent. Outside, the day is still, save for the distant chirping of birds, a stark contrast to the turmoil that has haunted this place for days.He steals a glance at Kassian, sprawled across the worn leather couch, his chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. There’s something almost childlike about the way he sleeps—completely at ease, his face unburdened by the grief and rage that have shadowed him since Ryker’s death. Oliver can count on one hand the number of times he’s seen his cousin sleep, and never once has it been so peaceful. Before, it was always fitful, his brows drawn tight, his body tense, as if even in slumber, he fought unseen battles. But now… now he’s at rest.A warmth spreads through Oliver’s chest, satisfaction curling around his heart like a protective shield. Justice has been ser
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It’s a good day to die.The thought crashes into my mind, and I immediately regret it. Worst possible time for jokes, Lynette.My breath is shallow, my pulse hammering against my ribs like a desperate prisoner trying to escape a cage. The scent of damp earth and pine needles fills my nose, and it almost feels as if I can perceive my own fear.I step back cautiously, my slippers sinking slightly into the forest floor, soft moss cushioning the impact. My eyes dart over my shoulder, scanning for any possible escape routes. Nothing. Thick trees enclose the area like silent spectators, their gnarled branches twisting above, casting jagged shadows in the fading sunlight. Even if I did run, what were the odds I’d make it?Slim. No—nonexistent.Panic grips me with icy fingers, tightening around my throat. My mind screams for a way out, some way to call for help. If only I had a mental link like Kassian did with his pack—something, anything to let him know I’m in danger. But I don’t. The best
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The quiet hum of the AC fills the office, cold air whispering through the space, blending with the faint rush of wind from the open window. Somewhere in the background, the coffee machine lets out a low gurgle. The silence is heavy. Oppressive. It settles around us like a second skin, thick enough to suffocate.I want to say something. I want to fix this. But the words lodge themselves in my throat, tangled between the fear of hurting him and the desperation to pull him back before it’s too late.Then, warmth.A gentle pressure over my fidgeting hands, stopping their restless movements.I jolt slightly at the unexpected contact, my heart skipping a beat. Kassian’s hands are warm—so warm—completely engulfing mine as if he’s trying to ground himself through me.I look up at him, breath catching at the raw emotion on his face. The sadness, the exhaustion, the fear—it’s all there, painted across his features in shades of grief and torment. His amethyst eyes, dulled with sorrow, meet mine,
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The hallway outside Kassian’s office is eerily quiet, the usual buzz of the pack absent. The air smells of old parchment, ink, and something heavier—like exhaustion and fading traces of stress-induced sweat. I take a deep breath, steadying myself before rapping my knuckles against the door.“Knock knock, it’s me!” I call out, my voice deliberately cheerful, a singsong lilt added for effect. A wide smile stretches across my lips, but inside, I’m anything but lighthearted.It has been over a week since Kassian defeated his father, and everything has changed. The pack. The leadership. Him.At the pack’s request, he revealed the truth—the real Rowan Draven had died long ago, and Kassian had been living in his place. Doubts lingered, of course. Murmurs of suspicion slithered through the media, but the CCTV footage he once hid sealed the truth. Footage proving he hadn’t been anywhere near Rowan’s death. That was the easy part. After all, back then, Kassian had dyed his hair black.I didn’t
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The arena is silent, save for the rhythmic pounding of hearts, the quiet inhales and exhales of tense bodies, and the occasional nervous shuffling of feet against the stone seating. A warm breeze drifts through the vast space, whispering through the ears of the gathered pack members, carrying the distant cries of birds and rustling leaves from beyond the towering arena walls. The scent of smoky vanilla and cream—the distinct fragrance that unites them as one—lingers in the air, blending with the individual scents of sweat, fear, and anticipation. The heavy mix of emotions clogs the atmosphere, suffocating to anyone with heightened senses.Yet, among the hundreds of anxious onlookers, one figure remains entirely unaffected.At the highest point of the arena, where the view is unobstructed, Lynette lounges with effortless ease, legs crossed as she leisurely munches on the cookies in the large bowl at her feet. Sunlight spills through the glass roof above, catching the frosty strands of
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The air in the pack arena is thick with tension, the faint strong scents of emotions mingling with the crisp bite of evening air. The weight of everything that has happened in the past hour presses against my chest like a boulder, suffocating, heavy.Vivian made Lynette’s demand clear, and then everything spiraled. My father—weak but still an alpha—exploded in fury, his roar shaking the very foundation of the hall. The guards tried to restrain him, but it was useless. His presence alone is enough to make seasoned warriors hesitate, their instincts screaming at them to submit. It was only when Vivian, despite her own exhaustion, used her magic to subdue him that he finally fell. But at a cost—her body shook violently, blood spilling from her lips as the spell took its toll.Then the truth unraveled, piece by piece, in the most horrifying way.I had always wondered why a powerful witch like Vivian tolerated a man like my father. Now, I know. And the knowledge is sickening.Noelle walked
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My mother stared back with wide, horrified eyes. Her lips parted, trembling, unable to form words. Then the scream that tore through her throat, so raw it sent a shiver down my spine even now, years later.She lost her mind in that moment. And in that moment, she lost everything.The gleam of the blade was the last thing I saw before she pressed it to her throat and dragged it across her skin.I remember the gurgling sound, the way the air filled with the thick, metallic scent of blood. I remember her collapsing, her body convulsing. The life draining from her eyes.And I remember him. Ryker, my so-called father, standing there. Watching.He rolled his eyes.And then he turned his back and walked away.He never turned back when I ran after him, my screams tearing from my throat as I begged him to save her. He never cared.And neither did anyone else.The pack didn’t mourn the loss of their unkind and selfish Luna. No one spoke of the pain she endured. No one cared about the woman she
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Lynette’s fingers tighten around my forearm before she lets go, stepping forward. My muscles tense instinctively, my gut twisting. What is she doing?“Lynette,” I murmur, leaning toward her, my voice low, questioning. Her sudden change of topic throws me off, her choice of words even more so. She knows what she’s doing—she has to. But why?She doesn’t look at me, but I see the way her shoulders rise and fall in a deep breath. “Trust me.”My throat bobs, and I force myself to nod, even as unease prickles beneath my skin.Then, she shifts her attention back to my father, her head tilting. “You know,” she begins, almost casually, “I thought my father was the worst man alive. But I stand corrected. Turns out, he’s top-tier garbage, while you, Ryker, take the spot of F-rank waste.”A beat of silence. Then—a strangled noise from the crowd. I hear the sharp inhale of people struggling to keep their composure, the barely stifled coughs that are most certainly hiding laughter. Even the guards
