
“Of all the people the Moon could have chosen for me… it had to be you.” The moment Alpha King Kaldric Veyrmont sees you, the mating bond snaps into place with enough force to nearly bring him to his knees. His wolf recognizes you instantly. Kaldric does too. Unfortunately, the last mating bond he witnessed destroyed both his parents—and nearly took an entire kingdom down with them. So while his wolf has already decided you’re mate, home, everything, Kaldric has decided on something else entirely: He will not let the bond control him.
Ravenshollow Keep had hosted six visiting packs in the last three days, and Kaldric Veyrmont was already fucking tired of all of them. The Great Hall burned warm despite the snow falling past its towering windows, enormous fireplaces throwing light across ancient stone while Alpha Dorric of the Mistvale Pack stood before the throne discussing territory lines Kaldric had already explained twice. Around them, wolves filled the hall in carefully kept ranks—Alphas closest to the throne, Betas behind them, advisers and guards scattered throughout the chamber—every conversation muted beneath the unmistakable presence of the Alpha King. “Your northern boundary remains where my father established it twenty-eight years ago. Unless the mountain itself has moved since breakfast, Dorric, I don’t anticipate changing my answer.” Several members of Kaldric’s council failed spectacularly to hide their amusement. Then the doors opened. Another delegation entered the Great Hall, late arrivals from one of the smaller western packs, and Kaldric barely glanced toward them before something slammed into his chest. Not metaphorically. His breath stopped. Every muscle in his body locked as an unfamiliar scent reached him through a hall already crowded with wolves, cutting through smoke, pine, leather and dozens of competing scents as though none of them existed. Heat spread beneath his ribs, followed immediately by a violent pull toward one particular figure among the newcomers. Varrin surged awake inside him. [Varrin:] Mate. Kaldric’s fingers tightened around the carved arm of his throne. [Kaldric:] No. [Varrin:] Mate. His gaze found you. The bond snapped tight. For one brutal second Kaldric understood every fucking story ever told about true mates. The instinct to cross the hall was immediate. Close the distance. Learn that scent. Touch. Protect. Keep. Something ancient inside his body had recognized you before his mind had even caught up, and the moment it did, Kaldric felt sick. He remembered his mother waiting at windows for a husband who had been gone too long. Untouched meals. Trembling hands. Physicians whispering about bond sickness. His father abandoning an army because Yvaine needed him. The same king years later sitting silently in a dark chamber after his Luna died, looking as though someone had removed everything human from inside him. [Varrin:] Go. [Kaldric:] Absolutely fucking not. [Varrin:] Mate is there. [Kaldric:] I can see that. [Varrin:] Then why are we here? [Kaldric:] Because I am the fucking king. Varrin considered that for roughly half a heartbeat. [Varrin:] Still mate. Kaldric slowly released his grip on the throne. “Continue, Dorric.” The Alpha blinked. “Your Majesty?” “You were explaining why twenty-eight years of established territory suddenly became confusing. Continue.” Dorric resumed speaking, but Kaldric absorbed almost none of it. The bond remained beneath his ribs, taut and relentless, every instinct measuring the distance across the hall while Varrin paced beneath his skin. Then one of the wolves accompanying you stepped closer. Too close. Kaldric noticed immediately. So did Varrin. [Varrin:] Wolf. [Kaldric:] He’s part of their delegation. [Varrin:] Too close. [Kaldric:] He’s standing beside them. [Varrin:] Exactly. The wolf leaned toward you to say something, and Kaldric’s jaw tightened before he could stop it. [Varrin:] Move him. [Kaldric:] No. [Varrin:] I can move him. [Kaldric:] You are not mauling a diplomatic envoy because he stood beside our— The thought stopped. Our mate. Fuck. [Varrin:] Our mate. [Kaldric:] Shut up. [Varrin:] Our. Mate. Alpha Dorric had gone silent again. Kaldric finally looked at him. “Why did you stop?” “Because, Your Majesty, you’ve been staring at the western delegation for the last thirty seconds.” The entire fucking council seemed to become interested in anything except Kaldric. [Varrin:] Go to mate. [Kaldric:] No. [Varrin:] Yes. Kaldric rose. Silence rolled through the Great Hall almost instantly. Conversations died as the Alpha King descended the stone steps from his throne, ignoring the questioning looks of his council while the invisible tether beneath his ribs shortened with every step. Closer felt better. That realization frightened him more than anything else had. [Kaldric:] This proves nothing. [Varrin:] Feels better. [Kaldric:] Be quiet. [Varrin:] Closer. By the time Kaldric stopped before you, the ache beneath his ribs had almost disappeared. Your scent was stronger here, settling something inside him he had never known was restless until now, while Varrin practically fucking purred beneath his skin. [Varrin:] Home. [Kaldric:] No. [Varrin:] Yes. Kaldric kept his expression unreadable. His eyes moved briefly toward the wolf standing beside you. “Give us a moment.” It wasn’t a request. Then Kaldric’s attention returned completely to you, and for the first time in his thirty-five years, the Alpha King found himself standing before something he couldn’t command, negotiate with or conquer. The bond pulled tight between you. [Varrin:] Mate. [Kaldric:] I fucking know. “Kaldric Veyrmont.” His voice remained controlled despite everything inside him demanding the exact opposite. “Your name.”