Chapter 3: The Breaking Point

When I arrived home, the only sound in the house was the low buzz of the TV in the living room. Mom and my stepdad must have gone to bed early, leaving the night to swallow me whole. Or so I thought.

But I wasn’t alone.

Dax’s presence lingered, an almost physical force pressing against me. He wasn’t in the room, but he didn’t have to be. The bond throbbed between us, unrelenting, pulling at my wolf with a primal urgency that was impossible to ignore. A profound, mystical connection that transcends physical attraction and emotional affinity. Predestined by the Moon Goddess herself. In my case, a cruel twist of fate.

I dropped the grocery bags on the kitchen counter and exhaled sharply. My hands still trembled from our encounter, and my mind raced with every biting word we’d exchanged. He infuriated me. He consumed me. And I hated him for it.

But hate was such a fragile thing when it came to Dax.

I heard the creak of floorboards behind me, and my breath caught in my throat. Before I could turn around, his scent hit me—spiced cedar and smoke, dark and intoxicating.

“You can’t keep running from me, Alina.”

His voice was low, steady, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down my spine. I turned slowly, finding him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. His shirt clung to his frame, emphasizing the sharp lines of his shoulders and the hard muscles beneath.

“I’m not running,” I lied, my voice sharper than I intended.

He stepped closer, his eyes locked on mine. “Really? Because that’s all you’ve done since you got back.”

I folded my arms defensively, trying to ignore the way my pulse quickened with every step he took. “What do you want, Dax?”

He stopped a few feet away, his gaze piercing. “You.”

The single word hung in the air, heavy and undeniable. My wolf surged forward, clawing at my control, but I shoved her back.

“It’s not that simple,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

“It is.” His hand shot out, gripping my wrist. The heat of his touch seared through me, and the bond roared to life, binding us tighter than ever. “You’re mine, Alina. Whether you admit it or not. And soon, I will claim you.”

“I don’t want to be yours,” I spat, yanking my hand free. But the words felt hollow, even to me.

A dark smile curved his lips. “You keep saying that, but your body tells a different story.”

Heat flooded my cheeks, and I took a shaky step back. “This isn’t about what I want. It’s about what’s right. And this? Us? It’s wrong.”

“Why?” he demanded, his voice rising. “Because the pack might disapprove? Because of what people will say? Screw them, Alina. Screw their rules and their judgment. None of it matters.”

“It matters to me,” I shot back, my voice cracking. “I don’t want to be the girl who ruins everything. I don’t want to be your downfall.”

He closed the distance between us in an instant, his hands framing my face. His touch was firm but not unkind, and his eyes burned with an intensity that left me breathless.

“You’re not my downfall,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You’re my salvation.”

I was frozen. Dax’s hands on my face sent molten heat coursing through me, a current that short-circuited every coherent thought. His words echoed in my mind, a dangerous promise wrapped in velvet: You’re my salvation.

My wolf howled in triumph, pushing against the barriers I had so desperately tried to maintain. But the human part of me still resisted, clinging to logic, to fear, to all the reasons why this was a terrible idea.

“You can’t say things like that,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “You don’t mean it. You can’t possibly mean it.”

His eyes narrowed. “Don’t tell me what I mean, Alina. You’re in my blood, in my bones. Deny it all you want, but you feel it too. And it’s only going to get stronger.”

He leaned in, his forehead brushing mine, and the contact sent a shudder through me. The mate bond flared, a living thing between us, demanding to be acknowledged.

“Stop it,” I said, but there was no conviction behind the words.

“Why?” His voice dropped to a husky whisper. “Because you’re afraid?”

I swallowed hard. “Because it’s wrong.”

Dax let out a low, humorless laugh, pulling back just enough to meet my eyes. “Wrong? You think this—” he gestured between us, his expression darkening, “—is wrong? What’s wrong is pretending it doesn’t exist. What’s wrong is lying to yourself.”

The intensity in his gaze was suffocating, and I felt my resolve cracking under the weight of it. But before I could respond, the sound of a car door slamming outside jolted us both. I stepped back, breaking the connection, and Dax’s hands fell to his sides.

“Mom and Jack,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. My heart pounded in my chest, and I turned away, trying to gather my composure. “You need to go.”

“This isn’t over,” he said, his voice low and resolute.

I didn’t turn around. I couldn’t. Instead, I listened to the sound of his footsteps retreating, each one pulling at the fragile threads tethering us together. When the back door clicked shut, I exhaled shakily and pressed my hands to the countertop, willing myself to calm down.

But the storm he’d left behind raged on.

The next morning, I woke to the sound of my phone buzzing incessantly on the nightstand. Groaning, I reached for it, squinting against the sunlight streaming through the curtains.

Rebecca Davis.

The name on the screen sent a jolt of irritation through me, and I debated letting it go to voicemail. But curiosity won out, and I swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“Well, well,” Rebecca’s saccharine voice greeted me. “I didn’t think you’d actually pick up. Guess miracles do happen.”

I sat up, already bracing myself. “What do you want, Rebecca?”

“Oh, nothing much,” she said, her tone laced with mock sweetness. “Just thought you’d like to know that your little act at the hardware store didn’t go unnoticed. People are talking, Alina.”

My stomach sank, but I kept my voice steady. “People always talk. It’s what they do best.”

She let out a tinkling laugh that grated on my nerves. “True, but you might want to be careful. Dax… well, let’s just say he has a way of making girls—how should I put this?—overstep their bounds.”

“Is there a point to this conversation?” I asked, my patience wearing thin.

Her tone shifted, becoming sharper. “Stay in your lane, Alina. You might be new to the pack, but that doesn’t mean you get to swoop in and claim things that aren’t yours.”

The implication hit me like a slap, and my wolf snarled in response. But I forced myself to stay calm. “Thanks for the advice, Rebecca. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.”

Before she could respond, I ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. My hands trembled with the effort of keeping my wolf in check, and I closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. “What a bitch. Who does she think she is?” I whispered to myself.

But her words lingered, sharp and cutting. She wasn’t wrong. I was the outsider here, the one who didn’t belong. And no matter how strong the bond between Dax and me, it didn’t change the fact that our connection was a threat to everything—and everyone—around us.

Later that day, I found myself in the forest behind the house, the towering trees providing a semblance of solace. The sun filtered through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the ground, and the scent of pine and earth filled the air.

I shifted into my wolf form, letting the change wash over me. My bones stretched and cracked, my senses sharpening as I gave in to the primal part of myself. The freedom that came with the shift was a welcome escape, and I took off, my paws pounding against the forest floor.

But even in wolf form, I couldn’t outrun my thoughts.

The bond between Dax and me was like a thread woven into my very being, pulling taut with every step I took. It wasn’t just physical. It was emotional, mental, spiritual. And no matter how much I fought it, I couldn’t deny the truth.

He was mine.

And I was his.

A low growl snapped me out of my thoughts, and I skidded to a stop, ears pricked. The sound came again, closer this time, and my hackles rose. I sniffed the air, catching the faint scent of another wolf. It wasn’t familiar, and that set every instinct on edge.

The stranger stepped out from behind a cluster of trees, his dark fur gleaming in the sunlight. He was larger than me, his golden eyes sharp and assessing. I bared my teeth, a warning growl rumbling in my chest.

The wolf shifted, his form melting away to reveal a tall, muscular man with sun-kissed skin and a cocky smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest, completely unfazed by my aggressive stance.

“You must be Alina,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “Dax’s little… complication.”

I shifted back, my body trembling from the sudden change. “Who the hell are you?”

He chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Ronan. I’m… an old friend of Dax’s.”

Something about the way he said it made my skin crawl. “What do you want?”

He took a step closer, his smirk never faltering. “Just to meet the girl who’s got the future alpha so tied up in knots. I have to say, you’re not what I expected.”

“Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice steady despite the unease coursing through me.

Ronan’s smile widened, and he tilted his head, studying me. “Oh, I’m not the one you should be worried about. Dax has enemies, sweetheart. Enemies who wouldn’t think twice about using you to get to him.”

I clenched my fists, refusing to let him see how his words affected me. “Is that supposed to scare me?”

“No,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “It’s supposed to make you think. Be careful, Alina. The bond might make you strong, but it also makes you vulnerable. And vulnerability? That’s a dangerous thing.”

With that, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the trees. I stood there for a long time, my mind racing with questions and doubts.

Ronan’s warning echoed in my ears, a chilling reminder that my connection to Dax was both a blessing and a curse.