Untamed Bonds

1

The castle pulsed with wild energy—music thumping in time with a hundred heartbeats, the scent of wine and wolves thick in the air.

Laughter echoed through the grand halls of Ashmoor Keep, the crown jewel of the Northern Territories, where the Alpha King himself celebrated the annual Harvest Moon Festival.

Rylan was already on his fourth drink.

Golden eyes half-lidded, crown tilted on the back of his head, he leaned against a stone pillar and tried to forget the weight of everything that had brought him here: the duties, the bloodline, the expectations. Tonight, he wasn’t a king. He was just a man. And he wanted to be numb.

That’s when he saw her.

Not in the obvious way—there were plenty of beautiful women dressed in silver and scarlet, all vying for his attention.

But she was standing near the far wall, laughing at something the old baker had said.

She wore no jewels. No perfume. Just a soft green dress that brushed the floor and eyes the color of storm clouds about to break.

And when her gaze met his, the world quieted.

Rylan didn’t move. He didn’t need to. Within moments, she was walking toward him like fate had already decided they’d collide. The crowd faded into shadows. Music turned into a distant hum.

“Hi,” she said, voice low and melodic. “You’re either very bored… or very lonely.”

“Maybe both,” he replied, eyes locked on her full lips. “What’s your name?”

“Evanna.”

He repeated it like a prayer. “Evanna.”

“I know who you are,” she said, tilting her head. “The Alpha King. Rylan of Ashmoor.”

“And you came over anyway?”

She smirked. “Maybe I like dangerous men.”

He should have turned away. Should have remembered who he was. But instead, he offered her his hand and whispered, “Dance with me.”

They moved like they had known each other in another lifetime—fluid, graceful, wrapped in something unspoken. By the end of the second song, Rylan’s hand lingered too long at her waist. Her breath caught when his lips brushed her temple.

And when they disappeared from the ballroom, no one even noticed.

—

The royal chambers glowed with soft candlelight, flickering across ancient stone and velvet drapes. Rylan closed the door behind them, chest rising and falling like he’d just shifted forms.

“I shouldn’t be here,” Evanna whispered, backing into the room.

“Then go,” he murmured, stepping closer.

But she didn’t move.

They stood there for a moment, heat stretching between them like a taut thread. Then he cupped her jaw gently, reverently—as if afraid she’d vanish.

“You feel it too, don’t you?” he asked. “This pull?”

She nodded. “I don’t even know you.”

“Then let me show you.”

Their mouths met in a kiss that felt like it had waited centuries to happen.

It wasn’t rushed or careless—it was slow, deep, full of something that shouldn’t have been there but was.

His hands moved along her waist, memorizing her.

Her fingers tangled in his hair as they lost themselves in each other’s warmth.

Clothes fell like fallen leaves.

The moon cast silver light through the tall windows, spilling over the tangled sheets as Rylan and Evanna found each other in the dark. It wasn’t just physical—it was emotional. Raw. A whispered kind of desperation, like both were trying to forget the world existed for just one night.

He kissed her shoulder like it was sacred. She held onto him like he was breaking her apart and putting her back together in the same breath. Breathless confessions, soft sighs, and unspoken promises filled the room.

By the time the candles burned low, they were curled in silence—her head on his chest, his arm around her waist.

“Will you remember me tomorrow?” she whispered.

His hand paused against her spine. “…I’ll try.”

Evanna smiled sadly. She didn’t believe him.

And by morning, she was gone.