|chapter 7|

|Demetrius|

My first stop when I arrive in the small and quaint town of Eldwyn is the chapel nestled in the heart of it. Eldwyn is a quiet settlement consisting more of humans than wolfkind or any other creature, if at all, thus making it the most peaceful place in all my domain, and a fitting end to my journey across the Western Kingdom before I return to the seat of my power.

During the past twenty-four Silverrings which I've ruled over the West since seizing it after the blood war against their adversary, the Eastern Kingdom, I have only encountered little resistance—most of which were external, rarely from within. That tells me one of two things: the people either accept my reign or fear it. I care not which it really is, so long as it affords me peace.

The chapel is almost eerily silent as I make my way through its stone corridors, the echo of my boots being the only sound bouncing off the walls. Not a soul crosses my path, and the hush is welcome. I exit through the rear archway and find myself in the fields behind the chapel—golden stretches of lush land given a final kiss of the day by the setting sun and tended by a few villagers scattered about.

I pause to take in the scenery before me, savouring the rare moment of stillness and of a calm that, for once, doesn't foretell an impending storm. Or so it appears.

For in the next breath, my wolf, Fenris, stirs inside of me as a faint tug—subtle yet insistent—pulls at the core of my being, entreating my eyes eastwards across the fields. The air catches in my lungs when I recognize this sensation or rather, when I recall it through another's recounting. Over a decade past, when my brother of fewer Silverrings had found his mate, he had, with the wonder of a love-struck whelp, detailed the instant their gazes first clashed: as though the very earth had bent her will to align their paths.

And right here in this moment, as the world slows and the earth seems to shift on its axis just like my brother narrated, I sweep my gaze across the fields, my heart pounding in expectant unrest. At first, I see naught but wheat, oats, and the few townsfolk wrapping up their toil... until I see her.

A lone female, slender and robed in modest cloth, walking with slow, distracted steps, while heading straight towards the cliff’s edge that marks the end of the field. My brow furrows. She’s far away, but near enough for me to sense something amiss. She doesn’t stop or veer off the path—just keeps going with a basket in hand, as though blind to the peril ahead.

Or is she about to…?

I shake my head clear of the thought before calling out, “Hey, you there! Stop!” But she doesn't seem to hear me and her feet press on, undeterred.

I curse under my breath and take off at a run. The grasses give way beneath my boots as I dash across the land, cutting through the evening wind. Then it suddenly hits me—her scent.

By the goddess.

My strides falter for half a breath as the potency of her redolence washes over me. She smells of warm almonds toasted by hearthlight and laced with the wild sweetness of honeysuckle in their full bloom. Rich, addictive yet wholly untamed, her fragrance clings to the breeze like a siren's call beckoning me forward, and I am helpless against it.

My pulse quickens as the bond snaps into place so violently I nearly stagger before I press on, moving swifter now, inherently drawn by that intoxicating perfume and the soul it belongs to.

She is mine. My mate.

The realization has my beast surging to the surface with a ferocity I haven’t felt in decades, clawing to take the reins while snarling in desperation. I push harder, mustering every ounce of speed I possess, unwilling to lose her just as I’ve found her.

“Stop right there! Don’t move!” I shout again, but she still doesn't hear me. Damn it to the moon!

But thankfully, in the span of a breath, I reach her and my hand lashes out to grip her arm just as her feet graze the brink. She gasps, stumbling as I yank her back into me. Her body collides with mine, so soft, warm and delicate, whilst her basket tumbles from her grasp, fruits scattering and rolling across the earth.

“Have you lost your wits, woman?” I growl, heart still thudding from the chase, from the fright, and from the unbelievable knowledge of what she is to me. After countless cycles of the moon, spent partly in eagerness and partly in hopelessness, I have finally found my mate, my other half.

My fingers curl firmly around her waist, unwilling to let her go, for fear she’ll only vanish like a vision conjured by longing. She whirls towards me in the next heartbeat, startled, with her eyes wide as they lift to mine—and by the goddess, I'm immediately rendered breathless at the sight of them.

Turquoise blue orbs that are clear, fathomless and dabbed with flecks of seafoam green like the water of some long-forgotten oasis whispered only of in ancient tales. Her eyes are sharp enough to pierce through plate and pelt alike, yet so hauntingly soft that I, a mighty Alpha King, become naught but a creature ensnared.

My mate’s breath hitches as her gaze drinks me in, and in that singular moment, the very air between us shimmers with the ancient magic of our bond awakening.

My wolf howls within me in sheer victory because despite our decades-long wait, looking at our mate now makes me believe that the agonizing wait was well worth it. She’s beautiful. By the goddess, she’s beyond beautiful as her thick, blonde lashes frame those ethereal eyes. Her golden curls and alabaster skin glow with the sun's last kiss, while those full, rosy pink lips—soft and parted—look to be made for sin. However, it’s her scent still clinging to my nose that undoes me, branding her into my senses with the finality of fate.

She stares at me like she’s seeing a ghost… or a god, but her next words indicate the latter.

“You cannot possibly be of this realm,” she finally breathes, her voice reverent yet shaken. “Not with a face forged like that.”

The muttered praise stirs something primal in me, something possessive. My lip twitches as I stifle a wolfish smirk and instead pull her further into my embrace. My response to her is a teasing one, and I'm gratified by the colour that rises to her cheeks when she apologizes, obviously embarrassed. I try to assuage her fluster, more concerned about what she'd been so deep in thought over, she had nearly walked to her death.

She opens her mouth to answer me then suddenly halts, blinking at something I must've said. “Wait, what did you just call me?” she questions, her face tightening into a frown.

I cock my head, regarding her with confusion and quiet contemplation. Can she not feel the soul bond between us? “You heard me true,” I reply, resolute in my claim. “You are mine, fair maiden. My mate. As I am yours.”

With a loud gasp, my mate does the very opposite of what I'd expected her to do upon the revelation—she tears herself from my hold, putting distance between us.

“No,” she whispers, but it snaps at me like a whip. “No, that can't be. You're mistaken.”

I blink, stunned by her words. “Mistaken? I assure you, woman, the mate bond is not something that can be mistaken. You felt it when I held you in my embrace, did you not? Yet you still deny the bond the Goddess herself has woven between us.”

She shakes her head, frantic now. “This cannot be my lot again. I'm not—no, I won't be your mate.” Her hands tremble at her sides yet her voice is firm as she repeats, “I refuse to be.”

My wolf snarls within me, our joint emotions one of confusion and rising fury. “You refuse?” I echo, taking a step forward to which she takes one back. Hurt joins the chaos of emotions inside me. “You say that as though it is a choice.” My voice pitches, getting darker, and almost guttural. “As though I have not spent decades scouring this cursed realm, aching for you.”

“But I didn't ask for this!” she snaps, pain and fear bleeding through her visage. “I don't want any of this.”

A growl builds in my throat, though I bite it back, unwilling to scare her. My hands clench into fists at my sides as I fight the urge to seize her yet again, not in violence but in desperation to make her feel the sheer power of our bond. How could she not see it? How could she deny me—deny us, without even giving us a chance to begin?

“Is there another?” I demand gruffly, even though the mere thought of it threatens to drive me to the brink. “Have you sworn yourself to someone else? Speak the truth.”

Before she can reply, the wind carries the sound of pattering feet and a young voice calling out, bright and breathless.

“Mama!”

My mate spins around at the call just as a little girl, no older than four Silverrings old, bursts from the swaying barley. Her flaxen curls, very similar to my mate's, bounce with every hurried step as she runs headlong into her waiting arms.

My mate drops to her knees, embracing the child while burying her face in her hair. “Ohh, my sweet dove,” she whispers. “I’m here. I’m alright.”

I stand frozen, my thoughts scattering like startled crows as another girl, slightly older, sprints toward us, her brunette braid wisping in the breeze, while behind her, a man approaches, his arms cradling a toddler boy. They reach my mate quickly, forming a protective circle around her, their faces etched in concern.

“Are you alright?” the older girl asks, clutching my female's sleeve.

“We saw you walking toward the cliff, Mama,” the younger says, wide-eyed. “We were so scared.”

The man carefully adjusts the toddler in his arms and steps closer. “Talitha,” he breathes, voice laced with worry, “what happened? You seem pale. Are you hurt?”

“No,” she replies, rising slowly. “I’m alright. I was just... startled but he caught me in time.” Her eyes flick to mine, only for a heartbeat, before darting away again.

I do not move but within me, a storm of disbelief and wrath rages as my gaze locks on the protective way the man stands behind her, before shifting to the children clinging onto her like she is the moon and stars. Like she belongs to them, while I—who have waited lifetimes for her—am naught but the outsider here.

While I have wandered this world empty, she has given herself to another and even bore him babes. My fated mate.

I feel betrayed by fate—robbed even before I knew she existed.

My beast claws within me, thundering against my bones, barely restrained underneath the facade of discipline and dignity I’ve honed over decades. My voice cuts through the air like a blade, sharp and seething. “What. Is. This?”

Everyone turns to me and Talitha stiffens visibly. “Who are these children? And who is he?” I growl, eyes boring into her. “You will explain. Now.”

The others fall silent and even the wind appears to stop as all eyes settle on her. Talitha's hard swallow is audible in the silence and I brace myself for it…

The truth.