Bound By Destiny - Thorian and Emmeral

[Thorian Thalric]

The icy wind howled through the peaks of the Blackfrost Range, carrying with it the scent of blood, fear, and something far more insidious... dark magic. The massive iron gates of Eboncrest Citadel stood firm against the elements, but within its walls, unrest stirred.

A Frostclaw warrior burst into the grand hall, his breath heaving in white puffs. He dropped to one knee, fist over heart in deference. “My King, survivors from another pack have stumbled into our lands... wounded, desperate. They bring warnings.”

Thorian Thalric stood from his seat, broad shoulders squared, piercing frostfire eyes narrowing. His presence alone was a force of command, the weight of his crown heavy but never wavering. “Where?”

“The eastern border, near the Veilwood. Our patrol intercepted them, but they refused to be turned away. They demand to speak to you.”

Without hesitation, Thorian strode past his warriors, his long cloak swirling behind him. His boots crunched against the frozen earth as he emerged into the open courtyard where a small group of battered werewolves had been held back by his warriors.

One of them... a grizzled male, barely standing, his fur streaked with the crimson of battle... lifted his head. “My King,” he rasped, bowing as best he could. “Please... you must listen. We are all that’s left.”

Thorian stepped forward, his towering form casting a shadow over the trembling wolves. “Speak.”

“They came at night. Rogues, but... they were not themselves. Their eyes, their movements... it was as if they were something else entirely. Dark magic turned them into monsters.” He swallowed hard. “They slaughtered everyone. Our Alpha fell, our Luna…” His voice cracked. “We barely escaped. And she...”

Thorian’s gaze sharpened. “Who?”

“Emmeral,” the wolf croaked. “She fought harder than any of us, held them back so we could run. If she lives, it is only because she is too stubborn to die.”

Something stirred in Thorian, a whisper at the edge of his mind, a pull deep in his bones. But he dismissed it for the moment.

His voice was cold and commanding. “Beta, gather warriors and meet me at the front gates. Now.”

Through their mind-link, his Beta responded immediately. As you command, my King.

Thorian turned back to the battered wolves. “You’re safe now. Tend to your wounds.” Without waiting for a response, he strode towards the gates.

Minutes later, his Beta and a dozen warriors arrived. With a sharp nod, Thorian shifted.

Bones snapped, muscle expanded, and in mere seconds, the man was gone... replaced by a towering beast of dark silver-gray fur, streaked with the faint, ethereal glow of blue that shimmered under the moonlight. His piercing eyes burned with a frostfire glow as Draco took full control. Without hesitation, the rest of the warriors followed, shifting into their wolves and taking off into the night.

Through the snow-laden pines they raced, silent shadows moving with purpose. Thorian led the charge, the scent of blood thick in the air. But then... something else. Faint, yet unmistakable.

A scent that sent a jolt through his entire being. "It can’t be." Thorian says confused. Draco growled, the sound raw and possessive. "Mate."

Thorian’s breath hitched, his powerful strides faltering for a mere second before instinct took over. His pulse thundered, denial warring with primal need. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Not now. Not like this. They pushed harder, running at full speed toward the source of the scent. Every second mattered.

They found her at the base of a jagged rock outcrop, half-buried in the snow, blood soaking into the ice beneath her. Even in ruin, she was striking... dark hair tangled with frost, her body battered but unbroken in spirit. Shadow clung to her skin, shifting like living tendrils, fighting to keep her hidden from the world. Thorian shifted back, kneeling beside her. His hand hesitated only for a moment before he touched her, fingers brushing against her ice-cold skin. A force unlike anything he had ever known surged through him.

The air around them crackled. A blinding pulse of silver-blue energy erupted from where their skin met, sending a shockwave through the clearing. Frost spread outward in jagged veins, the ground beneath them quaking. For the first time in his reign, Thorian felt powerless against something greater than himself. Her body shuddered, and with a gasping breath, her eyes fluttered open. The moment their gazes met, the tether locked into place. Silence stretched between them, the weight of the moment sinking in. Disbelief warred in his chest, the reality of what had just happened pressing down like an iron weight.

His Beta’s voice cut through the frozen air. “Is she alive, my King?”

Thorian blinked, the spell of the moment breaking. He exhaled sharply. “She is.”

“No other survivors were found,” his Beta added grimly.

Thorian’s jaw clenched. “Send the trackers to the border. See if they can pick up any remaining trails.”

His Beta bowed his head. “And what of her?”

Thorian glanced down at the unconscious female in his arms, his emotions a storm of chaos. He should have felt victorious, relieved. Instead, rage simmered beneath his skin.

"Why now?" he thought bitterly. "Of all times, why now?"

Draco’s voice rumbled in his mind. "The Moon Goddess has decided. She is ours."

"She is a burden I cannot afford right now." Thorian responded. 

The wolf growled lowly. "She is fate."

Thorian exhaled sharply. This wasn’t a battle he would win. Not against destiny itself. With a final glance at his Beta, he made his decision.

“I’m taking her back to Eboncrest.” he said to his Beta without taking another glance back at him. Lifting her effortlessly into his arms, he turned and began the long trek back through the forest. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of what had just happened pressing down on him harder than ever before. 

As Thorian approached the gates of Eboncrest, he mind-linked his best healer "I need you in the infirmary now!" without waiting for the healer to respond Thorian made his way through the courtyard towards the infirmary. Without having to say a word the path was cleared for him. As he laid her down on the bed in the private room, Thorian couldn't help but stare at her. "Is Lunara serious right now?" he asks in a barely audible whisper. 

"The moon goddess knows what is best. And when." Draco responded. 

[Emmeral Langley]

The evening air whispered quietly as The Night Shade Pack enjoyed their festivities; Alpha Valen welcoming the safe arrival of the heir to his throne, a son by Luna Beatrix who was resting in recovery. The large stone column walls filled with chatter and laughter as they celebrated with music, booze and dancing for their future ruler.

"Long may he reign!" Alpha Valen's pride roared through the Great Room, a rise to his large cup as cheers rung out over the pack in follow. Those in wolf form howling their future leader. Wishing the Alpha, his family and their pack good fortune.

As word traveled of the Alpha's son's birth Emmeral thanked the moon goddess as she went to her post, taking over for Beta Dion for patrol so he could go and congratulate his Alpha on the news. Before Dion's departure for a time, Emmeral had been raised concerns of a disturbance off the border, taking a few men to survey the area, the snowfall covering tracks but Emmeral lowered to sift through the soil to see footprints, unable to sense a scent as the wind carried away any means but something didn't seem right as she assessed the small track of prints deep within the snow.

Emmeral could hear the screams of the purged as her eyes rolled over in mind link from her Alpha 'Rogues!' a stronghold as their Alpha called them home, his pain striking them a moment before they hurried back. The closer Emmeral got back to the den, the stronger the cries of her people hit her, their wishes towards Lunara to guide them safely to their afterlife pained within her chest as her eyes searched the land before her.

Carnage rotted a pathing through the Night Shade Pack, the heavy scent of blood filled her nostrils as those of the pack who were granted abilities fought to keep their people safe. Quick to act as the threat still rampaged as Emmy separated from her shadows calling them forward, across the snows surface her shadows broke through the ground and wrapped around a rogue attacking a store owner. Emmeral leapt forward, her arms wrapping around the neck of a rogue whose eyes mirrored a black hole, an emptiness that ran through her body seeing they were beyond savage, they were possessed with dark magic. One by one Emmeral used her shadow wielding abilities to defend her people.

Many falling around her as she went deeper into their home shifting freely into her wolf form, Andarna snarled as her teeth snapped and her large foot cracked through the snow "We must find the Alpha" Emmeral in agreement as they killed those in their way. Flames engulfed to wildfire as Andarna led the charge in battling her surroundings as people fled.

Rogues falling one by one as Andarna helped as many as she could towards the woods in the direction of the closest pack which was the BlackFrost Range "I hope they make it" Emmeral prayed to their Goddess as Andarna snapped the neck of another rogue who tried taking to those who were fleeing, some had been ripped apart and some managing to take to the night.

Andarna grew tired and was unable to remain as Emmeral's body broke to human form, her connection too weak to remain linked to Andarna as Emmeral's limbs stumbled her towards the stairs to the Great Hall where her Alpha's figure collapsed upon the stone flooring covered in snow, blood and bodies as he held the ravished bodies of his Luna and son. His silhouette cast across the ground of his fallen members as flames absorbed the scene. A state of emptiness and sorrow as red eyes stared down to his kin, his own body barely able to hold them as his body dropped lifeless, his expression blank as the last puff of white smoke left his lips and his body remained still. Emmeral's lungs froze up as the bond was severed as her pack, her Alpha were now gone.

Some rogues managed to flee, retreating into the night as the forestry concealed them. Emmeral's staggered footing turning towards the woods as her airway defied her, limiting her intake as she pushed through the pain that began to numb until she collapsed. Grief stuck her as her breathing crackled short, the intake harder than the exhale as she stared up at the falling flakes of snow, the visuals of her fallen pack taken away. Tears streaked her cheeks as she felt detached from her body, her pain gone, her breathing shallowed as she felt her body fight within itself, unable to recognize the seam of her life trying to remain for reasoning.

Her eyes grew heavy as she welcomed the peace as the snow brushed her skin and kissed her cheeks before rendering her unconscious.

Her shadows held her captive, cocooned her in a way as Thorian and his pack came across her. Her heartrate impossibly slow as her bodies loss of blood and injuries became apart of the land. Her mind merely blackness. Quiet. As time passed quickly in her mind as her blood loss had her hallucinate, her mind dream-walking as if she were prepared for the afterlife. A singular break of breath passed through Emmeral's lips the moment Thorian's skin touched hers. Her fingers twitching as she felt a tethering through her body, like an electric shock to her system her eyes fluttered open  and a shift happened in her hues, from her human green to a mix of lilac with shifts of blue, a haze filmed over her sight as distant voices spoke unable to comprehend those before her and their words, Andarna's voice softly praised through as if saved by the feeling as her voice remained distant as they lost consciousness 'Mate.'

[Thorian Thalric]

The cold air of the infirmary was thick with the scent of blood, herbs, and something far more potent destiny. Thorian stood near the bed where she lay, motionless but alive. Emmeral. His mate. The word felt foreign on his tongue, unwelcome, and yet it pulsed through him like a second heartbeat.

Draco prowled in his mind, restless. "She is ours."

Thorian clenched his jaw. "She is a complication."

The massive wolf inside him snarled. "She is fate. The Moon Goddess has chosen."

"And yet, she lies there on the brink of death. Some grand destiny that is."

Draco didn’t respond, but Thorian felt his wolf’s unwavering certainty like an iron brand against his soul. His thoughts were interrupted as the healer, an older wolf named Eirik, arrived, breathless and wide-eyed. He barely spared Thorian a glance before rushing to the bed.

“Who is she?” Eirik asked, already inspecting her wounds, his fingers deft and experienced.

Thorian’s voice was steel. “A survivor. She was found past the Veilwood, buried in the snow.”

Eirik muttered a curse under his breath as he checked her pulse, his brows furrowing. “She should not be alive.”

Thorian said nothing. He already knew that.

A knock at the door announced the arrival of a servant carrying a neatly folded set of clothes. But it was not the one Thorian had summoned. Instead, a familiar she-wolf stepped in, her eyes gleaming with something more than mere servitude.

“Forgive me, my King,” she purred, stepping closer, “but I thought I could be of service.”

Draco bristled immediately. The air in the room thickened with his anger, a low growl forming in Thorian’s throat before he could stop it. The she-wolf... Sienna... ignored it, brushing her fingers lightly against his forearm. Thorian grabs the clothes from her hands and swiftly pulled on his pants and fastens the belt, before pulling the shirt over his head. 

“You should leave this to the healer, my King,” she coaxed. “Come, let me help you. You don’t need to concern yourself with—”

Thorian’s patience snapped. With a swift, effortless movement, he flung her hand away as though it burned. “Enough. Leave.” His voice was low, cold, final. Sienna hesitated, her lips parting as if to protest. “I said leave.” His frostfire eyes bore into hers, and she swallowed hard before backing away. His voice was a command, sharp and final. “Anyone who is not aiding the healer, get out. Now.” The others who lingered quickly followed suit, leaving only Thorian, Eirik, and the unconscious she-wolf who had upended his entire existence.

Draco growled. “She is not welcome near us.”

Thorian exhaled sharply. “She is nothing. Forget her.”

"You should have put her in her place long ago."  Draco huffed.

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the healer’s quiet movements. Eirik examined her closely, his fingers gently prying open her eyelids. The moment he did, he froze. A sharp curse escaped him.

Thorian straightened. “What is it?”

Eirik’s eyes darted to him, wide with disbelief. “I have never seen anything like this,” he murmured. “Her eyes... the color...” He hesitated, as if uncertain whether to speak further.

Thorian’s patience was wearing thin. “Speak.”

The healer swallowed before meeting his gaze. “Only in ancient texts… Legends, my King. No wolf has had eyes like these in centuries.”

Thorian’s pulse quickened, a storm brewing in his chest. More questions, more uncertainties. More fate binding him to something he wasn’t ready to accept. He forced himself to look at her once more. Her breath was steady, but she remained unconscious, unaware of the chaos she had just ignited in his world.

The door swung open, and his Beta entered. The tension in his stance told Thorian he had news.

“We found something.” His Beta’s tone was grim. “A rogue. Alive.”

Thorian turned fully to him, his expression unreadable, though his mind was already calculating his next move. This night had brought him more than he bargained for.

And the Moon Goddess was not finished yet.

Thorian’s gaze sharpened. “Is he talking?”

“Not yet.” the Beta responded. 

Thorian clenched his jaw. He turned to the guards stationed at the entrance. “No one enters this room. No one touches her.” His gaze flickered to Emmeral one last time before he strode toward the door, his presence a storm waiting to break. “Take me to him.”

[Emmeral Langley]

Few who managed escape knew of the catastrophic ruins that now place the Night Shade Pack into extinction. A footnote in history of a rising pack that was plagued by dark magic. A loss that was sure to shake their alliances to sorrow. A shift to the rest of the Lycan bloodlines and whether they were next.

Emmeral hung in the balance, called to but something was keeping her in remain. Every passing heartbeat, every breath just to survive. Her body peaceful upon the medical bed as Eirik assessed her extent. It was a miracle she survived as dark magic tried attaching to her in battle, her shadows had served her well, her fight strong. Large teeth marks tore at her shoulder that revealed bone, her side melted with her armor and frozen over by snow, her fingertips dipped in her shadows as magic from her injuries seeped dark magic into her bloodstream, marking her healing still from regeneration. Sowing her injuries to remove further blood loss.

A blood transfusion necessary to remove the tainted blood from her body so her body could give itself a fighting chance, her severed pack bond making things incredibly harder both physically and mentally to draw upon.

Emmeral held captive within her mind, her form in her armour untouched by reality as she was surrounded by darkness that held no fear nor hope but the essence of peace. As dark magic began to be drained away, Emmeral began to feel a familiar presence as Andarna's sigh of relief and emotions made her feel blessed in reconnection.

A light tone, weak but happy spoke through "We must go back"

Emmeral's heart ached as she spoke "The Alpha has fallen, we have served well" a statement of being ready to move forward wherever they were guided. Nothing tethered her to the living anymore as she had served her purpose.

Andarna's laugh fluttered around her, a knowing in her tone that Emmy could not comprehend means "We must go back" she repeated as a matter of fact.

A feel of Andarna against her invisibly for a moment before her wolf form stood before her in a hallucinate aura, she appeared the same but something was different about her.

Andarna opened her eyes to a shadow of reflective hues of blues and purple, much like light hitting a crystal "Lunara has gifted us for our sacrifice" she stated.

Emmeral's brows knitted in confusion as she hadn't the chance to ask before Andarna leapt, crashing into her spiritually as they reunited as one. An indescribable light flickered in the distant black as Andarna spoke "Go."

Drawn towards the stormy shade of blue light. Her feet finding their movement before Emmeral could comprehend. Guided towards the land of the living unknown to how much time or days had passed.

•••

An imprisoned rogue exuded insanity. Deformed between human and his beast as his canines dripped the blood of those fallen from the Night Shade Pack, the scent a mixture of the Alpha's kin and Emmy's. A leader of sorts now consumed. This rogue particularly wild, his muscles flexed as darkness ran through his veins, his body marked by countless bites from Andarna and others that left him exposed to his capture and weakened.

•••

Word spread of a she wolf from the Night Shade pack who had been brought to Eboncrest. Those few who reached the Citadel walls held station outside the infirmary in beg to side by Emmeral and pray in guiding her light back from the darkness that held her captive.

Disturbance from within the infirmary as Emmeral's eyes opened, a gasp of life surged through her as her eyes glowed, a power surged from her body as Andarna called out. Unknown awareness to her surroundings had her instinctively grab Eirik by the throat, pinning him against the nearest wall as she mentally remained in the carnage.

Andarna finding some strength to quickly overwhelmed Emmy to surrender her grip and drop the healer as reality set in and Emmeral was no longer on the battlefield. Her green hues taking in her surroundings as she ignored the pain from her body "Where am I?" she demanded as she looked at Eirik, ignoring a sudden pull within her chest.

[Thorian Thalric]

The dungeon reeked of damp stone, blood, and something fouler... the stench of dark magic lingering in the air. Thorian stepped into the chamber, his presence an unspoken command that made even the most hardened warriors tense. The rogue sat bound in chains forged from silver and wolfsbane, his body a grotesque fusion of man and beast. His flesh was marred by countless wounds, some self-inflicted, others fresh from his capture. Blood dripped from his lips, his eyes wild with madness. He reeked of rot, of death, of the unnatural filth that clung to those tainted by dark magic. 

Thorian stood before him, his gaze ice and fire, frost and fury, unyielding as the storm brewing within him. His arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “You have one chance to speak.”

The rogue bared his jagged teeth, a twisted grin splitting his face. “Go to hell, King.”

Draco’s growl rumbled in his chest, a storm waiting to break. “He is tainted. Weak. A disgrace.”

Thorian exhaled slowly. “Very well.” Without hesitation, he struck. His fist crashed into the rogue’s ribs, the sickening crack of bone echoing through the chamber. The rogue coughed, spitting blood, but he only laughed... a hollow, broken sound.

Draco prowled at the edges of his mind, a restless force of rage barely restrained. "Kill him. He does not deserve to breathe."

"Not yet," Thorian answered silently, though every instinct screamed to rip the rogue apart. There were answers buried in that wretched body, and Thorian would carve them out if he had to.

He stepped forward, his boot scraping against the cold stone floor. "You are going to tell me everything."

Thorian grabbed the rogue by the throat, lifting him just enough for his legs to scrape against the stone floor. “Let’s see how much you can endure.”

“More,” he taunted. “It won’t change anything.”

He did not waste time with threats. The next blow shattered a kneecap. The rogue screamed, the sound raw, yet still laced with defiance. Thorian remained unmoved. He reached for a dagger at his belt, pressing the silver edge against the rogue’s flesh. The scent of burning skin filled the air as the metal sank deep into the corruption-riddled veins.

Draco snarled. “End him. He is filth.”

“Not yet,” Thorian answered, his voice a whisper in his own mind. “He will talk.”

The rogue's lips curled back in something that might have been a smile if not for the madness twisting his expression. His eyes flickered between human and beast, the corruption within him fighting to consume what remained of his mind. "Your reign is ending, wolf king," he rasped. "You will fall like the rest."

Thorian moved faster than thought, his fist slamming into the rogue's jaw with a sickening crack. Blood spattered against the ground, and the rogue coughed, choking on it. Thorian grabbed his throat, claws pressing into the filthy skin. "Who helped you? Who gave you the power to decimate an entire pack?" His voice was a low growl, lethal, demanding.

The rogue writhed, his body convulsing against the chains. “You think this matters?” he rasped. “More will come. We were not alone.”

Thorian’s grip tightened. “Names.”

The rogue shuddered, his flesh twisting where the dark magic still clung. “You’ll never...” His words cut off with a strangled gasp as Thorian drove his knee into his already broken leg.

“Names,” Thorian repeated, his tone flat, merciless.

The rogue panted, his defiance crumbling under pain and exhaustion. “The Order... The ones in shadow... They...” He coughed violently, blood spilling down his chin. “They gave us power... Took what was weak... Made us more.”

Thorian’s jaw tightened. “Who leads them?”

The rogue let out a twisted chuckle. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Thorian didn’t hesitate. He pressed his hand against the rogue’s throat, his frostfire eyes burning. “You’re going to tell me. One way or another.”

The rogue gagged, struggling against the unyielding force of the True Alpha. He wheezed. “Kaelith...”

Draco’s fury surged. “He speaks of the cursed one.”

Thorian committed the name to memory, his mind already calculating the implications. He released his grip, allowing the rogue to slump against the chains, barely conscious.

His Beta stepped forward, awaiting orders. Thorian’s voice was cold, final. “End him.”

The rogue’s eyes widened in realization, but before he could protest, Thorian turned on his heel and strode from the chamber. His Beta would handle the rest. He had what he needed. There was only one place he needed to be now.

Meanwhile, back at the infirmary…

Eirik hovered nearby, his sharp gaze assessing her as she stirred. Before he could react, instincts sharpened by war and blood seemed to take over her. Emmeral moved in a blur, her hand snapping up, fingers closing around the healer’s throat as she shoved him against the nearest wall. A growl built in her throat, her body primed for battle, mind still seemed to be trapped in the remnants of carnage.

Eirik gasped, his hands shooting up in surrender. "Easy, girl," he rasped. "You are safe. You are in Eboncrest." the man coughed and rubbed at his throat, his expression unreadable. "The Blackfrost infirmary. You've been unconscious for some time." his gaze softened ever so slightly. "You are lucky to be breathing, girl. Your body fought harder than most."

He did not say what they were all thinking. That she should not have survived. That something... something unnatural, something powerful... had kept her from death’s grasp.

Eirik hesitated for only a moment before reaching out through the mind-link, his voice steady. "My King, she is awake."

Thorian stilled mid-step. The words slammed into him with the force of a hammer, setting his blood roaring. Awake. She was awake. Draco surged forward, a snarl of satisfaction vibrating through their shared mind.

"Go to her," the wolf demanded. "See for yourself."

Thorian did not argue. He quickened his pace, reaching the infirmary doors and pushing them open with controlled force. His sharp gaze found her instantly.

She was awake.

Their eyes met across the room, and the air between them changed... charged with something neither of them could name. Her breath hitched, and he felt it, the pull, the silent command that echoed deep within his bones.

Draco rumbled with approval. "Fate. She is ours."

Thorian barely registered the healer speaking beside him, explaining her injuries, her recovery, the miracle of her survival. It was all meaningless noise. All he could see was her. The bruises, the wounds, the way exhaustion clung to her frame, and yet... those eyes.

Draco urged him forward, pushing against his restraint, but Thorian remained still, his fingers curling into fists. He was not ruled by instincts alone. He would not be ruled by this bond.

And yet, he took a step closer.

[Emmeral Langley]

Andarna's voice echoed within her mind tired but sweetly "We are safe here" repeating the healers words assisting to removing her hold upon him.

Eirik's body language seconded to his words to show he meant of no harm to her. Surprise plastered across his expression.

Emmeral staggered back retreated in distance from Eirik, hitting the infirmary's metal bed frame as her hand flew to stabilize by the rails edge, gripping it firmly as her heightened emotions acknowledged her body's need to take it easy.

Green orbs lowering to see her body was a mix of regenerative healing as a blood bag stood tall by her head and attached to her arm and the works of the healer as her clothing was removed to access the areas he needed to. Comfortable within her naked form as her knuckled hand on the rail loosened to sit upon the bed, draping the sheets around her.

Her wolf edged forward "He means us no harm" relief within her tone as Emmeral eased her stance as the memories flooded back, her presence although foreign within Eboncrest was noted she was not surrounded by rogues and dark magic.

"Thankyou" Her first spoken words although raspy, spoke appreciatively. Surprised even in herself to be alive.

Between the timing of her reawakening and Thorian's presence Emmeral had calmed entirely where Eirik was able to re-assess her.

Like a storm blowing in, the doors swung open as Emmeral's eyes drew towards them. Although her body fought against Emmeral rose instinctively to fight, ignoring the reopening to the stitches to her side. Standing in frame was a rather tall individual whose gaze burned into her. The feeling one she couldn't place. His expression hard to read but chiseled in definition of the jaw beneath a short beard, pressed thin lips, blue eyes that surrendered her beneath them. 

Upon meeting his gaze, Emmeral's eyes shifted to a striking crystal shift of color as Andarna's voice sung through pressing against her mind "Our Fated" a faint ache to her head as Andarna stopped pressing forward as recovery was needed further for Andarna to come out. Emmeral was at a loss for focus as Andarna spoke of this man being her mate. Eirik's presence drifted, swallowed visually from presence as all that stood within the space was Emmy and this man. The same shift of storm havocked blue that had drawn her from the darkness auraed off him.

Emmeral's voice low but enough for it to be heard "...Mate..." her voice swallowed the definition as Eirik assessed her ribs. But the ache was replaced just as quickly as it came, as if her pain was licked in ease as the mere presence of Thorian created.

"Who are you?" she asked across the room.

"He is our gift from Lunara. Play nicely" Andarna spoke softly.

Andarna still needing her own recovery as her crystal shift was replaced by her green orbs. Her eyes lowering to the curl of his fingers into fists, the internal struggle she could read but that was it, he was concealing reaction.

[Thorian Thalric]

Thorian stood in the doorway of the infirmary, the scent of blood, herbs, and something undeniably hers filling his senses. His storm-blue gaze locked onto the woman before him... his mate. The word itself settled uneasily in his mind, an uninvited truth he had no choice but to acknowledge. The bond stirred beneath his skin, a primal pull tightening around him like a noose.

Draco growled low in his mind, the sound a possessive rumble. "Ours. She is ours."

Thorian exhaled slowly, his expression unreadable as he took measured steps forward, each one bringing him closer to the fragile, wounded female before him. He noted everything... the paleness of her skin, the way her body bore the signs of recent agony, the faint scent of lingering pain that clung to her despite the healer’s efforts. She was alive, but only barely.

Her voice had been quiet, but he had heard it clear as day. A single question hanging in the air between them. "Who are you?"

He stopped at the foot of her bed, his presence filling the space with an unspoken authority. “Thorian Thalric,” he said, his voice edged with the weight of who he was. “King of all werewolves. Alpha of Frostclaw.”

Draco rumbled with satisfaction. "She should know who we are. We are her fate."

Ignoring his wolf’s claim, Thorian let the silence stretch for a moment before speaking again. “And you are in Eboncrest, under my protection.”

His gaze flicked over her form once more, noting the slow rise and fall of her breath, the way exhaustion still clung to her. He was used to reading warriors, to assessing injuries at a glance, and she had been on the brink when he had found her. The memory of it surfaced, unwelcome yet unshakable... the way she had lain in the snow, barely clinging to life, her blood staining the ice beneath her. His hands had been the first to touch her since the massacre. The first to lift her from the ruin of her fallen pack.

A strange pang settled in his chest. He did not dwell on it. Turning slightly, his focus shifted to Eirik, the healer. “How is she?”

Eirik had the sense not to waste his time with unnecessary details. “She’s healing better than expected, considering how close she was to death. Her body is recovering, but exhaustion still lingers. Her stitches reopened slightly, but nothing severe. The blood transfusion is helping.” He hesitated before adding, “She needs rest. And food.”

Thorian gave a curt nod. His gaze flicked back to her. “You should be dead.” The words were blunt, but not unkind. A statement of truth, not cruelty. “When I found you, you were barely breathing.”

Draco prowled at the edges of his mind, watching her as if assessing a wounded mate in need of protection. "We saved her. She is ours to keep safe."

Thorian ignored the pull. The bond was not something he would yield to blindly. He met her gaze again, unreadable. “How do you feel?”

The answer mattered, not just for her well-being, but because he needed to hear her speak again... to know she was not slipping away like so many before. He waited, his wolf restless in his chest, their instincts coiling around the fragile thread of fate that bound them.

A beat of silence, then another. He knew what he had to say next. Knew it would cut, but there was no kindness in false hope. “Your pack fell,” he said, his tone firm, unwavering. “There were few survivors.”

Draco’s growl softened into something almost mournful. The ache in Thorian’s chest was not his own... it was the bond, tethering him to the loss she had suffered. He did not know her, did not yet understand what this meant for them, but he knew grief. He had seen it break warriors, turn strong men into hollow shells of what they once were.

The words came before he could stop them. “I am sorry.” It was not something he said lightly. But it was the truth.

His fingers curled into a fist at his side, an unfamiliar restlessness washing over him. The instinct to reach for her, to offer something beyond words, gnawed at the edges of his restraint. Draco pushed against his will, demanding he act, that he claim what was his, that he offer the comfort only he could provide.

Thorian set his jaw. He would not give in to impulse. Not yet. Instead, he let the silence settle between them, his gaze locked onto her as he awaited her next words, his wolf waiting just as eagerly for what would come next.

[Emmeral Langley]

Emmeral could feel Andarna's lurk, her prowl along the edges, itching with wanting to come forward - to meet Thorian and his counterpart. To claim the bite that would collide their worlds together and tether them completely.

"Enough Andarna - Please" the sombered huff as Andarna's impatience was wearing thin and Emmeral wasn't in the mood nor capacity to fight.

Green orbs although tired observed the man before her, each shift of his footing had drawn to her attention. Was he being cautious simply because of the bond or because she was merely a stranger before now.

Although appearing as calm as she could, her heartrate accelerated unwillingly, as if a rope tied around her and shortened in his proximity. His presence, his gaze had her skin crawling.

The more she read upon the nature of his movements and the certainty edged to his strong jawline, Emmeral could see the reluctance as he fought the bond. An overwhelming pull that neither of them would be strong enough to deny their entanglement. 

Emmeral had seen for herself Lunara's choices as her parents, Alpha Malik with Luna Lylia, being present when Alpha Gideon linked with Luna Beatrix - She hadn't thought she'd gain a fated mate herself, but his spoken word had understanding clarity to his disapproved expression that he was dismissive of their bond.

Although appearing strong, Emmeral's fatigue was apparent to her features and the way her body slowly ease back in comfort of the pillow, ideally, she had distaste to feeling weak but this was simply unavoidable as bandages covered deep wounds of claws and teeth mark, various cuts marked her body both in freshness and faded from over the years. As he spoke of being both Alpha to Frostclaw and King to wolves she felt as though it explained quite a bit - Emmeral's history within the Night Shade pack were tales of the best she wolf warrior they'd had in centuries - As Gideon was an Fire Wielder - Between them they were a powerful duo on the field, to Thorian she was merely a Delta who had fought for her pack.

Both Andarna and Emmeral were in agreement for once upon their meeting - neither of them desired for his title but it was a surprise to learn none the less, Emmeral lowered her head as best as she could to bow in honor of his presence "My King."

As Thorian addressed the healer as if she weren't there frustrated her, Andarna lurked forward "Allow the healer to speak for you, we need our rest."  adding with amusement "Besides, he knows the extent than your stubbornness with say anyway"

Huffing under her breath as Emmeral carefully shifted to better comfort herself "I can speak for myself" Andarna laughed knowing the tethering was itching at the edges, a thread waiting to be pulled that was annoying Emmy greatly.

Softly drifting to the back of her mind Andarna addressed with hopefulness "Rest and maybe Thorian will honor those fallen with our lantern tradition" in the Night Shade pack it was tradition to honor those who served within the pack, lanterns drifted into the sky to give safe passage to Lunara into the afterlife "Maybe" Emmy muttered as grief filled the singular word. 

Feeling Thorian's eyes became an annoyance to Emmeral, his words blunt but soft, it irritated her "Yeah, well I am stubborn like that" his interest in now hearing from her, how she was feeling.

"Play nicely" Andarna called through their connection, Emmeral deciding short and sweet was the best option "I'll survive" she stated.

His next words were of no comfort, just stating fact.

The sorrow of loss was just as excruciating as the battle wounds as her heart ached for her people.

Barely able to conceal her pain as her breathing hitched, the lump stuck within her throat as she nodded in knowing "I know, I was there" the pain in her chest ached. She hadn't dared to peer up and see his face, feeling as though it would make her want to punch him or make her fall apart. Instead, she remained to play with the sheets edge.

Feeling Andarna press against her mind in comfort, her own sorrows in a soft howl made a silent tear sweep down her cheek. Quick to wipe away as his apology was appreciated, a soft expression of a smile in his direction before silence fell between them again. Thankful some made it out but soon wonder to those who were what happened to them now they were rogues "What will you do to those who seeked your doors?" the importance of her people strong in awareness that she was fighting the lull of her eyes in pain and exhaustion.

[Thorian Thalric]

Thorian watched her carefully, his gaze sharp as it traced the subtle tremor in her fingers, the way she fought against the exhaustion weighing her down. Her stubbornness was evident... engrained in every taut muscle, every controlled breath she took. When she spoke, a flicker of amusement ghosted through him.

The corner of his mouth twitched, the barest hint of a smirk threatening to form. Just as quickly, he smothered it. Stubborn, indeed. His mate had fire in her veins, even while battered and barely clinging to wakefulness.

Draco hummed in satisfaction. "She has spirit. A warrior's strength. She will not break."

Thorian ignored the warmth in his chest, the foreign sensation of quiet admiration that tried to take root. Instead, his focus remained on her... on the way her features shifted at his next words, the weight of grief pressing down on her slender frame. Her breathing hitched. The pain in her eyes, the slight tremor in her lips before she pressed them together... it struck him harder than he expected. The loss of her pack was not just a wound on her body, but a wound on her soul. And through the bond, he felt it. A dull, aching pressure in his chest, as if something vital had been ripped away.

Draco growled lowly, a sound both frustrated and urging. "Ease her burden. She is strong, but even the strong need a hand to steady them."

Thorian's jaw tightened. He resisted the pull, the unnatural instinct demanding he offer her comfort. She was a warrior. She did not need his pity. And yet, as his gaze flickered to the single tear tracing down her cheek.. that she quickly wiped away... he felt something stir. A need to act. To do something other than stand there like an immovable force while she silently bore the weight of her loss.

Her concern for her people was stronger than her own suffering. A trait of a true wolf... of a leader. He respected that.

"They will be given shelter here in Eboncrest," he stated firmly. "They are not rogues. They are survivors. If they choose to stay, they will be protected. If they wish to leave, they will be given provisions for the journey." He paused, allowing the words to settle. "They will not be cast out. That is not how I rule."

He saw the slight shift in her posture, the way her grip on the sheet eased, if only slightly. He had given her some semblance of reassurance. It was a small victory, but one nonetheless.

A stretch of silence followed, neither of them speaking, the quiet weight of unspoken thoughts filling the space between them. Thorian's eyes drifted downward, catching the slow, absent movements of her fingers as she played with the edge of the sheet. It was a simple action, but it betrayed more than she likely realized. She was uneasy. Not just because of her grief, but because of him.

Draco prowled within him, restless. "She is bound to us, and we to her. Speak it. Make it known."

His words caused Thorian exhaled, slow and measured. His voice, when he spoke, was lower, quieter. "You know what this is, don’t you?" His voice was quiet, but firm. "The bond. The pull between us. You feel it, just as I do." His eyes met hers once more, stormy blue locking onto weary green, searching for recognition. "Lunara has made her choice."

There was no point in avoiding it, no sense in pretending the bond between them did not exist. The pull was there, as tangible as the air between them. It was undeniable.

He took a step closer, not enough to touch her, but enough for the space between them to lessen, for his presence to become all the more consuming. His fingers flexed at his sides, the urge to reach for her gnawing at him with an intensity he refused to indulge.

"You are my mate, Emmeral." The words left his lips with quiet finality. "You, too, are under my protection."

It was not a promise born of possession or dominance... it was something else. A declaration. A vow. A truth he could not escape, no matter how much he tried to resist the bond that now tethered them together.

From the corner of his vision, he caught Eirik’s subtle shift in posture, the healer’s sharp eyes narrowing in contemplation. A quiet murmur left the older wolf’s lips, almost as if he hadn’t meant to say it aloud. "Just like in the old texts... the Frostbound Oath."

Thorian’s gaze flicked to him, but Eirik merely shook his head slightly, as if dismissing the thought. He would press him on it later. Right now, his focus was solely on her.

Draco rumbled, his voice a deep, satisfied growl. "Good. Now stand by your words."  

[Emmeral Langley]

Emmeral's stubborn had its limits, she was no fool to have pride rule over. Those who knew her would say her determination was more of what would kill her - and almost had for her pack.

But it was a choice she would have chosen again for her people.

Although awareness to her packs falling, hearing it stated from Thorian's lip had a heavier remorse of the fresh affliction, words laced like silver invisibly within her chest, a dependency that unfortunately weighed heavy to werewolves apart of packs when their bonds were broken. Burning flickers of recollisional moments, the happiness that quickly spread like a wildfire was gone so quickly. She was not beyond showing her emotional state but admittedly she was overwhelmed in many ways currently, it buried her weakened state.

The feel of Andarna's presence pressed comfort within Emmeral's mind.

A moment of connection towards her counterpart as they both were in recovery. Emmerly's words softly in encouragement "Rest my friend"

Andarna pressed against her mind as if to second but Emmerly could not have the luxury of rest currently "Soon"

Thorian honoring those who seeked his doors, the choice to remain or move forward. A soft exhale passing between her lips as reassurance to her people would not be turned away, her voice low but thankful "Thankyou, My King"

Alert although faint, Emmeral was aware to the storm within Thorian. Although a hardened exterior, the bond was giving him away. The cold sheath of dismissal weaved through like shards of ice splintering in reminder

Whispers to Thorian's ruling were vague to Emmerly - needn't assume unless she saw for herself - Gideon was an honoring man, a force on the battlefield, in ruling he was a fair and strong leader but even he had whispers untrue.

The room stilled in silence, the lurk of Eirik's presence fell away the moment Thorian stepped through the doors. Thread pulling invisibly between them was anything but soothing as Thorian exuded distain of their tethering since they locked eyes.

Andarna spoke within the passing moments "At least say something. Anything" she prodded.

Emmeral's heavy eyes provoking her exhaustion as she reframed from looking in his direction "You can feel it, his dismissive of the bond. He doesn't want it"

Andarna could feel the human counterpart before them. The way he pulled away from the woven ties of Lunara. To Andarna she assumed it was an egotistic move, finding it amusing how humans reacted to their bonds, she finally spoke "This is alot for him"

Mentally rolling her eyes Emmeral spitefully noted "He is not thankful of Lunara's blessing. He feels disapproved towards the bond"

"He's adjusting... He is the one who came across you - dying - How would you feel finding him in your position?" her understanding towards him made Emmeral huff in avoidance to answer as Andarna knew she'd feel overwhelmed finding her fated on death's door. Knowing it ran deeper than just being fated; it meant having a weakness. It meant being used against the other.

His voice drawing her forward, as if every time he spoke she was graced with a strength of his closeness, like her fating to him overpowered the weakness of a lost pack bond.

Her gaze hard and unwavering as green orbs remained within his stormy blues, his words acknowledging the bonds presence feeling empty towards her "I feel everything" she stated, allowing her own words to sink in that he needn't to speak for her to understand his feeling over Lunara's choice.

A stubborn grumble from the back of her mind "Play nicely."

Emmeral hadn't regretted stating facts as she stood her ground before adding in softness but her anger wired towards him "And, you are my mate, Thorian Thalric" wondering where this stood between them, as strangers now bound to one another.

His presence wrapping around her as he stepped forward, statement to their fated means and protection. Emmeral's mouth opened in protest that she didn't need nor wanted his protection. But her infuriation quickly relinquished through existing momentarily through their tethering before Eirik spoke up.

Both their gazes turning towards the healer in confusion. Eirik bounding his tongue with pressed lips before returning to assess her wounds. Emmeral speaking as gaze heavy and words filled with exhaustion "I think we've spoken enough. I need my rest... and clothes" adding as she was merely covered by a sheet as her amor laid in pieces among gauze and blood nearby.

[Thorian Thalric]

Thorian held her gaze, reading the weight behind her words, the quiet but undeniable challenge laced within them. "I feel everything," she had said. And she did. He could see it in the way she looked at him, as if searching for something... confirmation, rejection, acceptance. He wasn’t sure what.

Draco prowled within him, his voice a low growl of approval. "She does not shrink from the truth. She faces it. Strong."

Thorian exhaled sharply through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair. "And, you are my mate, Thorian Thalric." The way she said his name struck something deep within him, something he was not yet prepared to unravel.

He could feel the bond tightening between them, as if unseen threads were weaving them closer with each passing moment. It unsettled him... not because he did not believe in Lunara’s will, but because of what it meant. What she meant. A mate was a tether unlike any other, an unshakable truth, an immutable connection. And for an Alpha, it was both a strength and a vulnerability.

Draco huffed. "You question too much. She is fire. She is fierce. And she is meant for us."

Thorian ignored him. Instead, his gaze flickered to Eirik, who had pressed his lips together at his own utterance, clearly unwilling to elaborate further on the Frostbound Oath. That would be a conversation for another time. For now, his priority remained before him... his mate, exhausted and barely clinging to wakefulness.

Thorian noted the way her grip on the sheet tightened for a fraction of a second before she exhaled, as if surrendering to the exhaustion pressing down on her. Though her voice remained steady, there was no missing the weariness laced within it.

His jaw tensed at her words, the quiet but unmistakable dismissal settling uneasily in his chest. He knew she needed rest... Eirik would insist on it... but the rationality of the thought did nothing to ease the reluctant weight pressing against him. The bond did not care for reason.

Without hesitation, he reached out through the pack’s mind-link, seeking one of the omegas. "Aeris. Bring suitable clothing to the infirmary. And prepare a chamber on the fourth floor of the packhouse. It will be for our guest. Make sure it is ready by nightfall."

Aeris, ever efficient, responded swiftly. "Right away, my King. Shall I prepare a meal as well?"

He hesitated, then relented. "Yes. Something light. She is still recovering."

With that settled, he nodded once, shifting his attention back to Emmeral. "Accommodations have been prepared for you in the packhouse. Once Eirik clears you, you may move there." His voice remained level, but there was a certain weight behind it... an unspoken assurance that she would be watched over, whether she liked it or not.

Draco chuffed in approval. "She is where she belongs."

Thorian dismissed the thought, straightening as he turned to Eirik. "See me as soon as you are finished here."

The healer gave him a brief, knowing look but merely nodded in compliance.

Thorian lingered for a moment longer, his gaze flickering back to Emmeral. The bond between them was an undeniable force, a silent pull, a weight that settled deep in his core. And yet, for all its certainty, there were still unanswered questions, uncertainties that gnawed at the edges of his thoughts.

He turned, making his way toward the door, but just before stepping out, he hesitated. His fingers flexed at his sides before he looked back at her one final time. "If you need anything," his voice was quieter now, steadier, "or if you need me, let the guards outside your door know. I will be right over."

He did not wait for a response. Instead, his gaze shifted once more to Eirik. "When she is ready to move, I will escort her myself."

Eirik bowed slightly, his voice respectful. "Yes, my King."

And with that, he finally stepped out of the infirmary, the weight of the bond pressing ever heavier upon his shoulders. His mind was already shifting to the next task at hand. With measured steps, he made his way toward the packhouse, the crisp night air doing little to quell the tension coiling within him.

Reaching out through the mind-link, he summoned his Beta. "Gideon. Meet me in my office. We need to discuss our next steps."

"On my way," came the swift reply, the no-nonsense efficiency that Thorian had come to rely on.

By the time he reached the packhouse, the guards at the entrance bowed their heads in respect before opening the grand doors for him. The halls were quiet, save for the distant murmurs of wolves going about their duties. But Thorian had little patience for distractions.

Stepping into his office, he exhaled slowly, rolling the tension from his shoulders. The night was far from over. Crossing the room, he made his way to the mini bar, his movements precise as he poured himself a generous measure of whiskey. He downed it in a single, burning swig before pouring another, this time taking a slower sip as he moved toward his massive mahogany desk. Lowering himself into the chair, he let his head rest against the back, eyes momentarily closing as he braced himself for the conversation ahead.

[Emmeral Langley]

Their difference revealed through the invisible tethering just how their views of being fated was.

Emmeral more accepting its reasoning despite title, physical attraction, what risks and rewards were involved.

Thorian's immaturity of emotions that was black and white, no shades of gray to Lunara's pairing. One could argue the Moon Goddess's choices being wrong - But Emmeral knew two wolves could meet first as destined but a fated mate meeting or viewed as a second chance were stronger and held a deeper binding, if gifted.

Ignoring the ignited feeling within her chest, swallowing it down quickly as their acknowledgements to the bond seemingly tightened its weave between them. Lunara's gift to the Alpha King would be deeper than the average calling, unbeknownst to the both of them, Emmeral was blessed by Lunara as Queen of the wolves. Her hues alone testament to the old.

Emmeral's knowledge to her changes were unknown; the way her healing was a little faster than most, her connection to Thorian, her eye color. All lost in scripture that Eirik recalled.

All wolves knowledge to the feeling of being mated to another, it was indescribable but also varied to each pairing. Wording could not depict means fully, not perfectly.

Their difference as Emmeral saw a strength in being another mate were Thorian saw a weakness. Challenging to one were challenges for the other. Maybe it was their difference of upbringings. Maybe it was their difference of beliefs but only time would tell how theirs played out.

Emmeral remained in silence as the bond in its own slipped over every wound, every part of her in caring, as if to swallow her whole if she allowed it. Being too alert to one another's feelings as Emmeral's eyes read into Thorian's jaw which tensed in thought. The verbal means of requiring rest distaste past her lips as the unwavering bond almost refused past her lips, in means of the absence of her mate. Her dry mouth swallowing as she chewed the inside of her cheek to refrain from further speaking as she remained under Thorian's gaze as declaration to her naked form needed addressing. Thankful as she could feel Thorian's absence oddly disappointing as he spoke through mind-link; Given she was not apart of his pack nor marked, she felt an odd sense of abandonment for a moment.

Shaking the feeling from her shoulders as he addressed her.

Sensing Andarna's grin against her own lips "See, he wants us close"

Ignoring her counter parts words, Emmeral remarked "That is still to be seen"

Acknowledgement to his hospitality as her head bowed in appreciation "Thankyou, my King."

The way Thorian's gaze burned into her made her feel on display, she could almost feel the questioning as the bond gave away his curiosity. A pull within her body that ached for attention. Emmeral's weakened state was unable to disregard entirely before the heaviness started the moment Thorian's footing began away.

Her finger tips itching to reach out but tightened around the material that concealed her body. His tone softer as he addressed if she needed anything, or him to let her guards know, her mind swirling around the later as she was thankful her hitched breath was concealed by his broad back.

Each passing step he took, made the bond tighten around her, a feverish need to follow. Andarna's inability to refrain from a whimpered desire that sung in Emmeral's ears "This is going to be painful" an exhausted sigh mentally as her back shrieked into the pillows comfort.

After the heavy footing of Thorian disappeared, apologetic eyes shifting from burning holes in the large wooden doors towards the healer as Emmeral's tiredness was no longer concealed in her tone but also the address to her aid she had yet to thank "May I seek your name? I am Emmeral Langely... formerly... of the Night Shade pack" her body trembling in mental pain from her former pack bond and the truth spoken of her fight "Thankyou for your kindness towards my people and care for myself" a soft smile to the edge of Emmeral's features, warmth in her words as remained in his care till she was able to be moved, given temporary clothing so she wasn't leaving naked with a sheet around her.

"Stop that" Andarna's voice speaking up as she found Emmeral gnawing thoughts as conjuring scenarios frustrating as she spiraled to find understanding how complicated Thorian felt their bonding was.

Mentally rolling her eyes before she spoke up "Eirik, may you please let the guards know I am ready to transfer. Thankyou" although exhaustion plagued her entirely, she needed only to remain collected till she reached her living quarters for the evening.

Unaware to those who managed to find salvation in Eboncrest, remained outside her doors. The idea of seeing her people were strong but for now the knowledge of their safety being met was stronger than facing their pain.

[Thorian Thalric]

The silence of his office should have been a relief, but it was anything but. Thorian sat behind his desk, fingers steepled, his sharp gaze locked onto the amber liquid swirling in his glass. The whiskey did little to settle the storm within him. He had fought countless battles, commanded legions, and upheld the strength of his Dominion without falter. And yet, the mere presence of one injured she-wolf threatened to unravel the foundation he had built for himself.

Draco paced within him, the wolf’s presence restless, prowling, clawing. “She should not be alone.”

Thorian clenched his jaw, bringing the glass to his lips. “She is not alone. Eirik is with her.”

“Emmeral is our mate,” Draco rumbled, displeased. “Yet you walk away. Cowardly.”

A growl rose in his throat, barely contained. “I do not walk away. I lead. There is a difference.”

Draco huffed, unimpressed. “You fight what is already decided.”

Thorian ran a hand over his face, forcing the bond’s pull to the recesses of his mind. He needed clarity. Control. And yet, the weight of Emmeral’s gaze, the quiet challenge in her words, lingered with him. She did not shy from the truth of the bond like he did. She accepted it, understood it in ways that eluded him.

A knock sounded at the door before it swung open, Gideon stepping inside without preamble. His Beta was a commanding presence, as steady as the mountains themselves, his dark eyes assessing the Alpha with practiced ease. He had served at Thorian’s side long enough to recognize when something was amiss.

“You summoned me,” Gideon said, his tone neutral, though there was a flicker of curiosity in his gaze as he studied Thorian.

Thorian tuned his head to look over at his Before before exhaling slowly. He turns, setting the glass down and flipped through the reports on his desk. “Yes. We need to discuss the rogues. The last attack was not just an act of desperation... it was coordinated.”

Gideon inclined his head, stepping closer, but his sharp gaze remained fixed on Thorian. “You’re distracted.”

Thorian’s expression hardened. “I am focused.”

“Are you?” Gideon crossed his arms. “Because I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this unfocused in a meeting before. You’ve barely looked at the reports in front of you.”

A muscle in Thorian’s jaw ticked. He knew his Beta would see right through him, and the thought of explaining himself grated on his pride. But Gideon was not just a subordinate... he was one of the few he trusted.

Thorian exhaled through his nose, leaning back. “I found my mate.”

Gideon’s brows lifted, his expression shifting from scrutiny to surprise, then to something warmer. “That’s good news.”

Thorian did not respond immediately, his gaze flickering toward the window. The night stretched on, cold and indifferent, yet he could still feel the warmth of Emmeral’s presence like an ember refusing to burn out.

Gideon’s smile faded as he studied Thorian’s face. “But you don’t look happy about it.”

Thorian scoffed, rubbing his temple. “It is not about happiness.”

“Then what is it about?”

“Control.” The word left his lips like a curse. “The bond is a force I cannot ignore, but neither will I allow it to dictate my choices.”

Gideon was silent for a moment before he shook his head. “You’re not the first Alpha to struggle with the bond, Thorian. And you won’t be the last. But denying it doesn’t make it disappear.”

Thorian’s hands curled into fists on the desk. “I do not deny it. I resist it. There is a difference.”

Gideon sighed. “And how long do you think you can resist before it consumes you?”

Before Thorian could answer, a sudden mind-link interrupted his thoughts. “My King,” one of the guards stationed outside the infirmary called out. “The she-wolf has requested to move into the residence immediately.”

The words sent a sharp pulse through the bond, tightening like a vice around his chest. His resolve wavered for a fraction of a second before he shut his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“I’ll handle it,” Thorian said curtly, severing the link before the guard could say more.

Gideon gave him a knowing look. “You’re going to her.”

Thorian pushed up from his chair, adjusting his posture. “She is under my protection.”

“And that’s the only reason?”

Thorian shot him a warning glare. “That is all that matters.”

Gideon smirked but said nothing as Thorian strode toward the door, his movements swift and deliberate. Despite his every effort to hold firm, the bond refused to be ignored. And as much as he fought it, as much as he tried to hold his ground, one truth remained.

He wanted to be near her.

Nothing would change that.

By the time he reached the infirmary, the weight in his chest had not lessened. It only grew, constricting tighter with every step. The guards stationed outside her room straightened at his approach, but he barely acknowledged them as he lifted a hand and rapped his knuckles against the door.

A beat of silence passed before he pushed it open.

The moment his gaze landed on her, the tension coiled within him unraveled just slightly. She was still weak, but there was something in her eyes, something unspoken, that called to him more than he was willing to admit. The pull of the bond was relentless, demanding, and yet, all he could feel in this moment was the undeniable need to be near her.

His voice, when he spoke, was quieter than before, lacking the edge of their earlier exchanges. "I was told you were ready to move into the residence." he paused for a moment as he continued to gaze at her. "Are you ready to go?"