Chapter 9 - Sean
My eyelids part reluctantly, sluggishly, as I wake up already feeling tired.
It’s not the kind of tired that settles in your muscles after a long run in wolf form or a late night spent partying with wolfsbane.
This is heavier. It sits behind my eyes, seeps into my bones, makes my chest feel tight before I’ve even drawn my first full breath for the morning.
The room is quiet, along with the rest of the house. Or maybe it’s just the way I’m feeling inside, empty, barren, like something had been stripped from my soul.
For a split second, I expect to hear her moving down the hall. Bare feet on hardwood, or the soft click of a mug against the counter, or Emily clearing her throat like she always does before speaking, as if she needs to brace herself against the world.
Instead, there’s nothing, just the echo of her in my head, and on my lips.
I scrub a hand down my face and stare at the ceiling, willing my thoughts to slow or move away from what happened, but they don’t.
They never do when she’s involved. My thoughts always fracture, jumping timelines, bleeding memories together until I can’t tell what’s past and what’s clawing its way back into the present.
The memory of Emily in my childhood home, kneeling beside my mother’s bed, comes filtering through. Gloves on her hands, calm in her voice, telling me to breathe when my lungs refused to work.
When words were not enough, she’d breathed life into me when I couldn’t take breaths of my own, when air wouldn’t settle in my lungs. All it took was one look, one measly attempt to say her name, for her to recognize that I needed her desperately.
I still remember it like it was yesterday—the way she held me, the way she kissed me one night when my mother’s condition had worsened, and we’d all been panicked.
That night was terrifying, and the shift happened so suddenly that I was far from prepared to accept the inevitable.
I was losing my mind watching my father weep over his wife, and I couldn’t stand to watch any longer.
So I stumbled out of that room and fell into Emily’s arms, while she fell into mine the moment we reached her bedroom.
Through my grief, I’d felt the fated mate bond so strongly that it had overshadowed the pain of watching my mother wither away.
I’d never felt more powerful than when I was inside Emily, gazing deeply into her eyes to see my own soul reflected back to me.
All my darkness, all my pain, and all my potential, wrapped up in the cool depths of sapphire-blue eyes and presented to me with her loving smile as she lay under me, thighs wrapped around my waist.
Two halves of one whole—that’s what it felt like, and I was terrified. I knew my mother wasn’t going to make it, and I knew that I was losing the internal battle I was facing. I lost the day Mom died, and I had to run because I couldn’t accept defeat.
So, I joined black ops, but not without hurting Emily in my wake.
I close my eyes as sadness washes over me, seeing Emily’s eyes staring at me when her emotions were in upheaval.
She couldn’t believe what she was hearing when I spat cruel words at her, but it was the only way I could leave without feeling a force pulling me back.
I couldn’t take her down into my grief with me, but then she came to me a year later as if that force we once felt could never be broken.
I open my eyes and see Emily again, her eyes blown wide, breath hitching as something ancient and undeniable snapped into place when we kissed yesterday.
The bond. The unshakable, undeniable bond that keeps resurfacing even when we both deny it.
The lunar binding spell has made it impossible to ignore, but no matter how gentle I am, how understanding, Emily won’t consider it, even going as far as pretending that the kiss we shared yesterday meant nothing.
I press my fingers to my temples as if I can shove the memory back where it belongs.
It didn’t mean anything to her, I tell myself for the hundredth time, words that have been playing in my head over and over again throughout my restless night.
The kiss was a mistake. An experiment. Clinical.
Detached. That’s what she made it feel like, and that’s what I have to believe.
But my wolf doesn’t agree. He’s restless beneath my skin, pacing, agitated, like he’s been caged for too long and can smell freedom just out of reach. Every nerve ending hums with awareness, with where she is, how far away she feels, even when she’s in the same damn room.
I bolt upright and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, dragging in a breath that tastes like resignation.
Get it together, Sean. You have a meeting to attend, plans to discuss, and training to oversee.
Drilling those things into my head, I finally have enough courage, through the storm of feeling rejected and dismissed, to prepare for the day that lies ahead.
By the time I shower and dress, I’ve slid the mask back into place. Easy grin. Loose shoulders. The version of me that cracks jokes during fights and pretends nothing ever sticks.
The goofball alpha.
It’s the only way I know how to survive mornings like this.
The meeting room in my pack den is already half-full when I walk in. Familiar faces. Familiar energy. Black ops wolves don’t do quiet; there’s always motion, noise, someone arguing about tactics or coffee strength.
“Morning, sunshine,” Nicholas calls out. “Nice of you to finally join us in your own pack den. By the way, you look like hell.”
I grin automatically. “Missed you too, princess.”
A few laughs ripple through the room. Normal. Good. I drop into my seat and stretch my arms behind my head like I didn’t spend half the night replaying the taste of Emily’s lips. A cool, calm, and collected mask remains on my face while internally, I’m losing my mind.
Then she walks in, and everything in me locks up.
Emily takes the chair farthest from mine, her posture stiff, expression neutral to the point of being brittle. She doesn’t look at me. Not once. The distance is deliberate, and it hits harder than if she’d snapped at me outright.
My wolf snarls, but I ignore him.
Dominic sits at the foot of the table, eyes sharp, taking everything in without saying a word. Hunter leans back beside him, arms crossed, gaze flicking between Emily and me like he’s already piecing together a puzzle he doesn’t like.
Donna smiles at Emily, soft and encouraging. “Ready to try again today?”
Emily nods curtly. “Yes.” Her voice is steady. Controlled.
Too controlled, as if she rehearsed that single word a million times before this meeting.
We start the briefing. Grimes. Our next move will be when Emily is strong enough and trained enough to visit Swan's Island. The words blur together until Emily shifts in her seat, and a spark flickers across her fingertips.
It’s subtle. Barely visible, but I feel it even before my eyes catch it.
A pulse of heat rolls through my chest, sharp and immediate, like the bond just woke up and stretched. Emily stiffens, jaw tightening, and scoots her chair back another inch, clearing her throat discreetly as if a metaphorical collar is too tight around her neck.
The bond is a noose for her, and Nicholas seems to notice her discomfort.
“Oh…” he murmurs, eyes lighting with interest as he glances at his mate, Donna. “Is it just me, or did the room get a little…sparklier?”
Emily shoots him a glare. “Focus.”
“Hey, I am focused,” he says, holding up his hands. “Focused on the fact that every time Sean breathes in your direction, you glow like a damn Christmas tree.”
I choke on a laugh before I can stop myself. “That’s festive.”
Emily’s glare sharpens at Nicholas. “This isn’t funny.”
“No,” Hunter cuts in calmly. “It’s not.”
The room goes quiet. Donna clears her throat as she glares at Nicholas before turning back to Emily, saying gently, “Emily, can you try sensing Grimes’s energy? Just a small pulse. We’ve all tried, but the track is cold again.”
“He’s hiding from us because he knows who we are,” Arianna adds. “But he doesn’t know about you.”
Emily nods. “I’ll try,” she says as she closes her eyes and lifts her hands, but nothing happens.
Her brows furrow as she tries again.
Still nothing.
Frustration bleeds through the cracks in her composure, and I feel it like it’s my own. My fingers twitch at my sides, instinct screaming at me to move closer, to help.
She stands up from her seat, focused as she tries a third time, but her knees nearly buckle.
Before I can think, I’m there, beside her, reaching out and steadying her elbow.
The reaction is instant. Gold light explodes from her palms, bright and violent, slamming into the far wall hard enough to rattle the windows.
Power roars through the room, thick and undeniable, raising the hair on my arms.
The room goes dead silent.
Emily jerks away from me like she’s been burned, eyes wide with horror.
“What the hell was that?” Tyler breathes.
Delilah swallows, eyes fixed on Emily’s glowing hands. “Her powers are not controlled. Not yet, anyway.”
“They won’t be controlled, ever, unless she knows…” Arianna whispers, her head lowered as she stares at the table. All eyes fly to her.
“What are you talking about, babe?” Tyler asks his mate, but all she does is shrug.
“Donna?” Dominic asks his sister, but she has the same response, prompting me to realize that the witches know something the rest of us don’t. A secret, and not even Emily seems to know.
“What are you guys talking about? What don’t I know?” Emily asks Delilah.
“The-the ritual you performed…the lunar binding spell…” Delilah begins reluctantly. “It was designed for witches. Humans. It was never meant to bind to a werewolf.”
My stomach drops.
Nicholas exhales slowly. “Meaning?”
“Meaning…” Delilah explains carefully. “...that what we’re seeing isn’t a reaction to the spell. The spell couldn’t have worked between the two of them, because they’re werewolves.”
“Then how do you explain how she reacts to him?” Tyler asks, and then mouths a silent “oh” when he looks to Arianna for an answer.
“There is an active bond,” Arianna explains. “It’s just not because of the spell.”
Emily shakes her head slowly, backing away from me. “No. No, that’s not—” Her voice cuts off because the truth is too hard to speak.
It’s lodged in my throat, too, stuck in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” Delilah apologizes sincerely, dropping her head and her shoulders, as if in defeat, as if she’s betraying Emily. “It’s a bond. A real one. The realest one any werewolf can experience.”
The words land like a gunshot—not surprising, but still unexpected, exposing both Emily and me to our friends.
The fated mate bond.
We’d been so determined to deny the bond that we’d been hiding behind the mask of the lunar binding spell. But it was always there, underneath the surface of denial, underneath the pains of the past.
And there’s no more hiding from it.
Emily’s eyes become ablaze with horror. She turns that horror on me, fury radiating off her in waves so intense it nearly knocks me backward with the daggers she throws at me.
“You…” she snarls, grinding her teeth. “This is your fault.”
I open my mouth to defend myself, but she’s already storming toward the door.
“Emily, wait—” I try calling out to her, but when she spins on me, it’s not out of compliance or understanding.
Her finger is pointed like a weapon. “Do not follow me. Do not touch me. And do not think for one second that you get to use this bond to crawl back into my life.”
The door slams behind her, and the room stays frozen for a beat. Just long enough for everyone to digest what they’ve just learned. It’s a lot to take in, but one beat is enough for them to put the puzzle pieces together and make a clear picture.
Then Nicholas speaks gently, quiet understanding in his voice. “You can’t ignore a bond like that, Sean.”
I swallow hard, staring at the door as if I’m too afraid to face my friends. Maybe I am. Maybe shame has gripped me too tightly. “I’m not trying to use it. You heard what she said.”
“Doesn’t matter,” Dominic says. “It’s an active, fated mate bond. Which means whatever happened between you two before? It’s not over.”
I don’t respond. I can’t. Not because I’m fully exposed, but because all I can think about is the look on Emily’s face—betrayal layered over fear, anger sharp enough to cut when she warned me not to go after her.
I follow her anyway, finally moving and leaving behind a roomful of our friends with questioning expressions. The truth is out in the open, and there’s no hiding from it anymore.
Emily is already halfway down the hall when I catch up. She whirls around when she hears my footsteps, her eyes cold, fiery pits of condemnation.
“I warned you!”
“I know,” I sigh as I stop a few feet away. “But I don’t understand why you’re this angry. How is any of this my fault?”
Emily throws her head back and laughs, a sharp, broken sound filling the hallway. “You don’t get to act like you didn’t already break me once. Why would I give you a chance to do it all again?”
The words hit harder than any punch.
I stare at her, my chest tight. “This is out of my control, Em. Out of yours, too,” I say softly. “Tell me how to fix it. Whatever I broke, I will fix it now.”
Her lips tremble for half a second before she schools her expression back into steel.
“No,” she says coldly, shaking her head with determination. “You don’t get to fix this.”
She turns and walks away, leaving me standing there long after she’s gone, the bond humming, aching, and alive beneath my skin.
And for the first time in years, I know one thing with absolute certainty.
What I did to her back then wasn’t small, futile, like it was something that could easily be forgiven at the dawn of a second chance.
I broke her, and I see it now behind her stubborn anger, a broken girl sobbing while the dragon of her resistance keeps her fiercely protected.
If I don’t face it now, it’s going to destroy us both.