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THE WARRIOR’s BOND

Author: Ana belle
last update Last Updated: 2025-04-28 03:23:25

The moon had risen high by the time Kael slipped away from the Ironhowl merchant encampment. The light cast eerie silver streaks over the woodland paths, shadows dancing across the snow-dusted ground like spirits shifting in the dark. But Kael's mind wasn't on the moon or the cold. It was on her—the girl with eyes like stormlight and a scent that had embedded itself deep into his memory.

He didn't even know her name.

"Who is she?" he muttered under his breath, weaving between carts and trader tents. "She has to belong to this pack..."

But when he asked—quietly, cautiously, pulling aside younger warriors or curious market dwellers—they gave only shrugs and confused expressions.

"No one like that lives around here," one said.

"Sounds like you were hallucinating," another chuckled.

Kael narrowed his eyes. His wolf snarled within. They were lying—or someone was hiding her. That kind of bond didn't just happen. And it sure as hell didn't go away. He remembered the way her body had jolted when their skin touched, the light that had flickered behind her eyes. No—this wasn't a coincidence. This was the first thread of something ancient, something bound in blood and soul.

And he wasn't about to let it go.

Back at the Hale cabin, panic pressed down like a suffocating fog.

Veyra's hands trembled as she clutched the edge of the wooden table in their hearthroom. Her skin still buzzed where Kael had touched her. Her wolf paced behind her ribcage, unsettled and wild. She couldn't calm it. She didn't want to calm it.

Maelin hovered nearby, her brow furrowed in both awe and concern. "It's begun," she whispered, half to herself. "The bond has found you."

Elias stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight. The warrior in him wanted to roar. The father in him wanted to barricade the door and throw away the key. "This is too soon," he said tightly. "We weren't ready for this."

"You think I was ready?" Veyra snapped, voice sharp. "I went to get smoked meat and got nearly knocked over by fate."

"It doesn't matter how it happened," Elias replied. "What matters is that it did. And now the threads are unraveling."

Maelin stepped between them. "It was destined, Elias. We knew she wouldn't stay hidden forever. The bonds don't care about timing or plans."

"Destiny won't protect her when the truth gets out," Elias growled. "Do you have any idea what would happen if the Council finds out there's a living white wolf with more than one mate? They'll burn this forest to the roots trying to get to her."

"Then we protect her," Maelin said, steel threading her voice.

Elias turned to Veyra, eyes full of fire. "You're not leaving the woods again. I'll lock the damn doors myself if I have to."

"No," Veyra said, stepping forward. "I won't live in a cage, Father."

"You'll do what you're told."

"I already lost my childhood to this secret," she said, voice trembling but sure. "I'm not losing my future too."

Elias stared at her, then turned and walked away in silence, the door to his study slamming shut behind him.

Maelin moved to her daughter's side, placing a hand over her heart. "It's always the first bond that breaks the silence," she murmured. "And it's always the most dangerous."

Jon arrived just before dawn, his boots crunching on frost as he strode into the cabin. Veyra was already awake, curled near the fireplace with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders.

The second he saw her face, he froze. "Veyra. What happened?"

She looked up, eyes brimming. "I think I met one of them."

Jon blinked. "One of them...?"

She nodded. "I didn't mean to. It just... happened. We touched, and I felt everything burn. Like lightning under my skin. It wasn't just a crush or a spark. It was a claim."

Jon exhaled slowly and dropped to sit beside her. "Was he kind to you?"

"He was fighting when I saw him. Rough. Intense. But the moment we locked eyes... he stopped. Like the world disappeared."

Jon ruffled a hand through his hair. "And Father's handling it well, I'm sure?"

Veyra laughed bitterly. "He wants to bolt the doors shut."

"Well, at least he's consistent."

Jon reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. "No matter how many mates fate throws your way, I've got your back. Always."

She leaned into him, a soft sob escaping her lips.

Meanwhile, Kael had returned to the edge of the market square, where the trees met the trade path. He found the same Moonfang warrior he'd spotted near the scuffle.

"You," Kael said, approaching him with slow, deliberate steps.

The warrior straightened. "Problem?"

"The girl," Kael said. "The one who fell. Pale skin. Dark cloak. She ran that way."

"Lots of girls run from you?" the warrior smirked.

Kael didn't laugh.

"I'm not asking for jokes. I need a name."

The warrior's grin faded. "No one by that description lives here."

"I saw you looking at her."

"I don't know who she is."

Kael growled low in his throat and stepped closer. "I don't care about your pack's secrets. But something happened back there. And if you know who she is, you better start talking."

The warrior's eyes narrowed. "If you care about her, you'll stay away."

Kael's jaw flexed. "I don't even know her name."

"And maybe it's safer that way."

The warrior turned and walked off, leaving Kael seething, fists clenched.

That night, Kael returned to the wooded path where she had fallen, where the connection had first sparked. The air still smelled faintly of her—flowers and wind and something wild. He crouched near the tree where she had fled, pulling a piece of parchment from his satchel. His handwriting was rough, bold, unpolished—but clear.

I don't know who you are.

But I felt it.

And I'll wait.

He folded it carefully and wedged it under a patch of moss-covered stone, praying to the ancient wolves she might come back.

The next morning, Veyra wandered the same trail, pulled by something she didn't understand. Her instincts led her to the very tree where it all began. She paused.

Her eyes dropped to the stone.

She crouched, pulled away the moss—and found the note.

Her fingers shook as she unfolded it.

The words hit her like a thunderclap.

"I don't know who you are. But I felt it. And I'll wait."

Her lips parted, her heart stuttering.

Somewhere deep within, her wolf lifted its head and howled.

_______

Kael just wants to meet his mate but no one seems to know who she is... That's sad :(

Heyyyyy guys,

I hope you all enjoyed the third chapter.

Just sit back and enjoy the ride. We still have a lot ahead of us.

Let me know your thoughts in the comment, also don't forget to vote and recommend to your friends and family.

Until next time,

xoxo

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    The moon had risen high by the time Kael slipped away from the Ironhowl merchant encampment. The light cast eerie silver streaks over the woodland paths, shadows dancing across the snow-dusted ground like spirits shifting in the dark. But Kael's mind wasn't on the moon or the cold. It was on her—the girl with eyes like stormlight and a scent that had embedded itself deep into his memory.He didn't even know her name."Who is she?" he muttered under his breath, weaving between carts and trader tents. "She has to belong to this pack..."But when he asked—quietly, cautiously, pulling aside younger warriors or curious market dwellers—they gave only shrugs and confused expressions."No one like that lives around here," one said."Sounds like you were hallucinating," another chuckled.Kael narrowed his eyes. His wolf snarled within. They were lying—or someone was hiding her. That kind of bond didn't just happen. And it sure as hell didn't go away. He remembered the way her body had jolted w

  • THE CURSE OF THE FIFTH MATE   HOWLING HEARTS

    The morning broke quietly, the sun stretching golden fingers across the treetops outside the Hale cabin. Inside, it was a flurry of movement. Jon Hale buckled the last strap on his chest armor, the leather creaking as he adjusted the fit. His black cloak lay folded on the table, and his weapons were freshly sharpened. Though it was just a patrol mission to the neighboring border near Stonefang Ridge, he treated every assignment with the seriousness of war. That's how their father raised him—prepared, alert, unshakable. Veyra stood near the doorway, watching him with tight lips and folded arms. She hated when he left. The world outside their secluded haven felt sharper, more dangerous, without Jon's calming presence. He always made her feel like no harm could touch her. "You'll only be gone two days?" she asked. "Two and a half, max. We're just checking trade routes, reinforcing some pack-to-pack borders. Nothing serious," Jon replied, though his tone was clipped. "Still, I want y

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