Bonds

-Alex's POV-

-Seven Years Ago-

The amber liquid swirled in my glass, catching the dim bar light. Adrian, sprawled across the booth from me, mirrored my action, his own drink disappearing with a satisfied grunt.

"So, let me get this straight," he drawled, his voice thick with amusement. "Intense, undeniable connection? You felt all that so that meant you finally found the person you were predestined to be with for the rest of your life? Your mate."

I grunted in reply, the news still settling in my gut like a boulder. A mate. The word itself felt old fashioned, a relic from a bygone era. Yet, here I was, a modern man facing a truth as primal as instinct.

"And she's a college freshman? Not just that, she is a Stone." Adrian pressed, a sardonic grin twisting his lips.

"Junior," I corrected, forcing down another gulp of whiskey. The burn did little to soothe the disquiet churning inside me. I knew what he was getting at. I was a thirty year old man. Nine years wasn't so much but trust Adrian to point that out.

He threw his head back and roared with laughter, the sound harsh and grating in the smoky bar. "Brilliant! Just brilliant! Your Moon Goddess really has a twisted sense of humor, doesn't she?"

My jaw clenched, a low growl rumbling in my chest. Adrian, with his infuriating brand of gallows humor, was the only person! could have confided in. But even his amusement felt like sandpaper on a raw wound.

"What's so funny?" I snapped, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

He sobered up instantly, raising his hands in mock surrender. "Whoa there, big guy. No need to get your fur in a twist. It's just... the irony, you know? Amaya Stone, daughter of that self-righteous prick Daniel Stone. Of all the people that could have fathered her, it just had to be him."

The name hung in the air, heavy with history. Daniel Stone, the Alpha of the rival Crescent pack, had been a thorn in my side for as long as I could remember. The animosity between our packs ran deep, a legacy of past grievances.

"I don't give a damn about Daniel Stone," I growled, the words a low rumble in my chest. "She's mine. And I'll take what's mine."

"Hold on, Romeo," He scoffed. "Don't get all possessive on me. This isn't some fairy tale. She's not a damsel in distress waiting to be swept off her feet by the brooding Alpha."

He was right, of course. From the moment I'd laid eyes on her across the bar, I'd known she was anything but ordinary. I couldn't stop myself. I was drawn to her and there waas nothing I could do stop it no matter how hard I tried nor was I interested in stopping it.

"So, what's the plan, then, Casanova?" he continued, his voice laced with a challenge. "Shower her with expensive gifts? Serenade her under her window? Stalk her? Kidnap her? Force her to be with you? Because I don't think she would go against her father, her entire pack to be with you."

A muscle ticked in my jaw. He was right again. This wouldn't be easy. Claiming a mate from a rival pack was a delicate dance, Chapter 37

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fraught with potential for bloodshed. But the primal urge that pulsed within me, the undeniable pull towards Amaya, wouldn't be ignored.

"I haven't figured it out yet," I admitted, frustration gnawing at me. "But one thing's for sure. I won't let some ancient pack rivalry stand in the way of what's mine."

He studied me for a long moment, a flicker of concern replacing his earlier amusement. "Just be careful, Alex," he said finally, his voice low and serious. "This could get messy. Really messy."

I met his gaze, my own unwavering. "I know the risks," I said. "But this... this is different. This is my mate. And nothing will stop me from claiming her."

The weight of his words hung heavy in the air as we finished our drinks, a silent understanding settling between us. The path ahead wouldn't be easy, but the primal pull of the mate bond was stronger than any obstacle.

Just then, he sprang to his feet, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. "Alright, enough brooding," he declared, clapping me on the back. "Let's go see what this woman looks like that's managed to rattle the all-powerful billionaire Alpha Alex Thorne."

I scoffed, shaking my head, but a reluctant smile tugged at the corner of my lips. "We're not going anywhere near her, Adrian, When I see her again, I want her to be mine," I finished, the possessiveness in my voice undeniable..

His grin widened. "Come on, Alex," he chuckled. "Loosen up a bit. A little harmless curiosity wouldn't hurt, would it? Besides, I wouldn't mind seeing the woman who's got you all worked up."NôvelDrama.Org owns this.

"It's not harmless curiosity, Adrian," I countered, my voice firm but laced with a hint of amusement at his usual daredevil tendencies. "This is serious. We don't want to s p o her or cause an incident with the Crescent pack, especially not before I have a plan.

"Alright, alright," he conceded, raising his hands in mock surrender. "But stalking from a distance is practically a national pastime for werewolves, right? We can just observe from afar, gather some intel. No need to get all Alpha protective just yet."

I growled playfully, pushing myself out of the booth. "Stalking is a strong word, Adrian."

"Oh, come on," he countered, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we headed towards the door. "Don't be such a stick in the mud. Besides, you know you're curious too. What is she like? Maybe she'll be out practicing her wolf form under the full moon tonight, who knows?"

Despite myself, a small spark of curiosity flickered within me. The truth was, I hadn't seen her since I left my mark on her in the bar bathroom after the initial shock of discovering our mate bond. The weight of the situation, the potential for conflict between our packs, had kept me at a distance. But the thought of seeing her again, even from afar, sent a thrill through me.

Just before we stepped out of he bar, Adrian stopped and placed a hand on my shoulder, his earlier amusement replaced by a look of genuine concern. "No matter what, Alex," he said, his voice low and serious. "I'll be with you every step of the way."

I met his gaze, a wave of gratitude washing over me. Trust didn't come easily for me, especially with my past. But Adrian, myclosest friend and confidant, had earned it which was why he knew everything about me including the fact that I was a werewolf even though he was a human. A silent understanding passed between us, a promise spoken without words.

With a small smile, I nodded in response, We may be heading into uncharted territory, but at least I wouldn't be facing it alone.

The memory faded, replaced by the stark reality of the present. I blinked open my eyes, the sterile white walls of the prison infirmary swimming into focus. Seven years. The memory was from seven years but I hadn't seen him in three years ever since he ended up in prison.

A harsh cough shattered the silence. I snapped my eyes open to see a burly guard with a shaved head standing before me, "Mr Thome, right this way." With a curt nod, I followed him down the sterile hallway, the rhythmic clink of his boots echoing against the polished concrete floor. The air grew thick and stale as we turned a corner, the fluorescent lights casting an unflattering, clinical glow. The guard stopped in front of a heavy, steel door.

A metallic clang echoed through the corridor as the guard unlocked the door. He gestured towards the darkness within. "We usually give ten minutes tops but for you Sir, we will extend the time."

I nodded, not paying him more attention than I needed to. There were many advantages that came with being one of the city's most respected billionaires. This was one of those times.

I hesitated for a moment, a knot of apprehension tightening in my gut. Taking a deep breath, I stepped into the darkness. The heavy door clanged shut behind me, plunging me into a suffocating blackness.

Then, a shift in the air. He stood in the center of the small cell. The chains binding his wrists and ankles clinked faintly as he finally turned to face me Gone was the easy charm that had once crinkled the corners of his eyes. His face was gaunt, etched with the harsh lines of hardship. His once-golden hair, usually worn meticulously styled, was matted and dull, hanging lankly around his shoulders.

Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating. His voice, when it finally came, was devoid of warmth, as hard and unforgiving as the stone fibor beneath my feet: “It's been too long, Alex," he rasped, each word laced with venom. "Not since the last time we spoke. When you took everything from me."

Hatred burned in his eyes, a raging inferno directed solely at me, "And threw me in prison."