Chapter 3
Dawn broke gray and ominous over Silver Moon territory.
I was grinding moonflower petals when thunderous footsteps shook the main hall above my laboratory.
"Emergency! All senior wolves to the council chamber!"
My pestle froze mid-motion. That was Marcus, the patrol leader.
I abandoned my work and rushed upstairs, where chaos had erupted. Patrol wolves stumbled through the doors, their faces ashen, some still bleeding from fresh cuts.
"What happened?" Rowan's commanding voice cut through the commotion as he strode into the hall, fully armed.
Marcus staggered forward, clutching a silver contraption that made my blood run cold. "Alpha, we found these at the forest perimeter. Professional grade wolf traps, laced with wolfsbane."
The room fell deathly silent.
"How many?" the Chieftain demanded.
"Dozens. Arranged in a perfect grid pattern. And..." Marcus's voice cracked. "The craftsmanship... only the most elite hunter organizations possess this level of technology."
My heart hammered against my ribs. This wasn't some random threat—this was systematic extermination.
Rowan examined the trap with military precision. "How long have they been there?"
Marcus replied, "Fresh placement, Alpha. No more than six hours old."
Six hours. They'd set up death snares while we slept.
The Chieftain remarked, "Emergency council session. Now."
The council chamber buzzed with urgent whispers as elders filed in.
"Rowan," the Chieftain's steely gaze fixed on him. "You're our finest strategic mind. I'm placing defensive operations under your command."
"I won't fail you." Rowan's voice carried absolute conviction. "I'll protect this clan with my life."
After the council dismissed in frantic urgency, I found myself standing outside Rowan's study, my heart pounding for reasons I didn't want to examine.
Through the crack under his door, I could see candlelight flickering. He was alone, probably drowning in tactical problems.
I knocked, my knuckles barely making a sound.
"Come in."
Rowan looked up from maps scattered across his desk, surprise flashing across his features. "Isla? What are you—"
"My research might help." I stepped inside, closing the door behind me. "I've been working on something that could give us an advantage."
His eyebrows shot up. "What kind of advantage?"
I pulled three small vials from my cloak, their contents shimmering with an ethereal silver glow. "Scent masking potions. They can completely hide our wolf signatures from any tracking method."
Rowan's jaw dropped. He reached for one vial with trembling fingers. "How is this possible? I've never heard of such a thing."
He uncorked one vial and inhaled deeply. His eyes widened in shock. "This is revolutionary. How long have you been developing this?"
"Months." I met his gaze steadily. "I had a feeling we might need unconventional solutions."
For the first time since our forced bonding, Rowan looked at me with something approaching awe. "We need to talk strategy. Can you make more of these?"
I responded, "If I have the right materials, yes."
He stood abruptly, energy crackling around him like electricity. "Then we do this together. Your alchemy, my tactics."
By midnight, we'd transformed Rowan's study into a war room.
Maps covered every surface, marked with red X's indicating trap locations. Empty vials lined the windowsill, evidence of our collaborative brewing session.
"If we position our patrols here," Rowan traced a route with his finger, "and use your masking potions to—"
Our hands accidentally brushed as I reached for the same map section.
The blood bond ignited between us, sending shockwaves of awareness through every nerve ending. For a heartbeat, neither of us moved.
"Sorry," Rowan whispered, but didn't pull his hand away.
Neither did I.
I forced myself to focus on the maps, not the way his proximity made my pulse race.
The next evening, we tested the masking potions in the moonlit garden. The results were flawless—even my enhanced senses couldn't detect the slightest trace of wolf scent on Rowan.
"Incredible," he murmured.
We walked deeper into the garden, silver moonlight casting everything in ethereal beauty. For once, the atmosphere felt almost... peaceful.
"Isla," Rowan's voice turned hesitant. "About our future... about children..."
My blood froze. "What about them?"
Rowan continued, "Do you ever think about what it would mean? Having heirs?"
The careful distance we'd built between us suddenly felt fragile as spun glass.
"If you're truly concerned about securing the bloodline," I said with deliberate calm, "I could help you find a more suitable mate."
Rowan stopped walking so abruptly I nearly crashed into him.
"What did you just say?" he said.
"You heard me." I kept my voice level despite my racing heart. "If producing heirs is your priority, there are wolves who would be more... enthusiastic partners."
His face contorted with fury. "Are you out of your mind? The blood bond is sacred! You're my only mate!"
"But your heart isn't in this!" The words exploded out of me. "Why should we both suffer in a loveless arrangement?"
"You think I don't—" He ran his hands through his hair, frustration radiating from every line of his body. "You don't understand anything!"
"Then explain it to me!" I shouted back. "Stop treating me like I'm too fragile to handle the truth!"
"The truth?" His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "The truth is that everything has changed, and I don't know how to deal with it!"
Hours later, I lay awake in my bed, staring at the ceiling. Every time I closed my eyes, I could feel Rowan's emotional turmoil bleeding through our bond like an open wound.
What was happening to us?
The connection pulsed with his sleepless energy from across the house. I could sense his confusion, his guilt, his... longing?
No. That had to be the bond talking. Nothing more.
But even as I told myself that, I could feel something fundamental shifting between us. The careful walls we'd built were crumbling, and I wasn't sure I wanted to stop it.
Through the bond, I felt him sit up in bed, probably experiencing the same overwhelming awareness of my presence.
Was this real, or just manipulation?
The question haunted both our minds simultaneously.