Bond Rejected at the Tribute Gala

My mate's Omega pack liaison deliberately destroyed a ward-weave I had spent two full years creating.

In my fury, I made him serve as a den-servant for three daysscrubbing the floors of my exhibition hall before the Territory Showcase.

Aurora Frostvein said nothing at first. Acted as though nothing had happened.

But three months later, her pack declared a resource freeze. She was marked with an Outcast Brand and sent to the isolation dens.

To settle the crushing territory debts she left behind, I took on three labor-bonds each day, running myself ragged across pack lines.

For three whole years, rogue enforcers cornered me in shadowed alleyways and humiliated mesnapping at my heels, forcing me to bare my throat in submission.

For a hundred silver marks, I accepted a contract as a "cursed-ground watcher"sleeping in abandoned dens where dark spirits were said to linger.

Then one night, while I was serving at a feast hall, I caught her scentAurora Frostvein, who was supposed to be wasting away in the isolation denshosting a lavish celebration for her Omega liaison.

A voice from her court-circle drifted toward me. "Aurora, you gifted Rowan Ashclaw a moon-blessed timepiece worth a thousand territory claims, while your bonded mate risks his life in cursed dens for a hundred marks. How can your heart be so cold?"

Aurora breathed out a slow exhale, smoke curling from the ceremonial herbs she held, and laugheda sound like cracking ice.

"Who told Alaric Duskvale to force Rowan into servant's work? These three years are his punishment."

"Once the three years end, I'll stage my return to power."

"And he'll still be my devoted mate."

My body swayed in the cold night wind. I stood frozen like a broken puppet, strings cut and dangling.

So these three years of living tormentthey were all part of your design. Your Pack Sanction against me.

Fine then. I will repay you double.

1.

My entire being felt submerged in ice water. Yet from inside the hall, I could still hear another voiceSelene Nightbriar, a high-ranking Beta's mate from Aurora's court-circle.

"Aurora, he is still your bonded mate. Before you claimed him, he was an Alpha-blooded heir of the Duskvale line. Do you not think you have been too cruel?"

"The last time I saw Alaric, he looked terrible. Gaunt. His scent was fading. Like he is barely holding on."

Aurora's voice remained flat.

"We agreed on exactly three years. Not one day less."

"Besides, there is only a moon-cycle left. He has survived this long. What is another few days?"

Selene hesitated, then spoke again.

"He came to me a while back. Begging. He only wanted to borrow a few hundred marks for healing herbs."

"The great Alaric Duskvale, heir to the Duskvale bloodlineI have never seen him so desperate."

Aurora made a sharp sound of contempt. "You did not lend it to him, did you?"

"Of course not. You declared that anyone who helped him would be dead to you. I would not dare."

Through the haze of herb-smoke, Aurora smiled coldly.

"Smart she-wolf."

"Alaric Duskvale was always arrogant and difficult. Rowan accidentally damaged one of his ward-weaves, and he made Rowan serve as a house-servant for three days."

"That kind of Alpha arrogance needed correction. And lookthree years of punishment truly did the work."

Her voice dripped with pride. Satisfaction.

As if her sanction had reformed me. Made me a new wolf.

Selene sighed and swallowed whatever else she had meant to say.

There were things she kept hidden.

Like what happened that day.

I had knelt before her.

Bared my own throat. Pulled aside my collar to expose the vulnerable flesh.

"Just five hundred marks. Please."

"Aurora is sick in the isolation dens. She needs healer's fees. I am five hundred short."

The she-wolves exchanged glancesthen burst into laughter.

"Is this really the great Alaric Duskvale?"

"You used to be so proud. Would not wear pelts that cost less than ten thousand marks. Now you are selling your dignity for five hundred?"

I could only kneel there, listening, my face blank as stone.

What expression was I supposed to wear?

Every shred of pride, every ounce of honorground into nothing by this brutal reality.

"If you are willing to offer more..."

My voice cracked.

"I will submit however you want."

The she-wolves laughed even harder, their mocking howls echoing off the stone walls of the gathering hall.

Finally, the one who had stayed quiet spoke up from her cushioned seat near the fire pit, her voice heavy with a tired sigh.

"Just go."

"Even if you dropped to the floor and pressed your throat to the ground a hundred times, we still wouldn't help you."

Because Aurora had given them clear orders beforehand.

Pack Sanction was Pack Sanction.

For three full years, they were forbidden from showing me any kindness or offering me the smallest bit of aid.

Only then could they properly avenge her pack liaison, Rowan.

So how did I eventually scrape together those five hundred silver marks?

I walked into the Den-Healers' Hall and sold my bloodlet them drain me until my vision went dark at the edges.

When I finally brought the payment to the outcast holding grounds, I was told Aurora had already been released on a healer's mercy order.

That money passed through several hands before reaching one of Aurora's court-circle companions.

I was so desperate I nearly dropped to my knees and bared my throat in full submission.

"Pleasemake sure this gets to Aurora. She can't afford any more trouble with the Pack Elders."

But at that very moment, Aurora was with Rowan at the Moonlit Festival grounds, posing for portrait-weavers.

She took my five hundred silver marks and tossed them at a servant like crumpled scraps.

"Dirty coin from the gods know where. How disgusting."

Just like my devotiontrampled without a second thought.

And now, here was Aurora herself, displaying a moon-blessed ceremonial vessel worth more than most wolves earned in a lifetime as mere decoration for Rowan's birth-moon celebration.

Every detail had been carefully planned.

But I had no stomach to watch any more.

Several times I nearly lost controlnearly charged in there, my wolf clawing at the edges of my skin.

I wanted to appear before Aurora and rake my claws across her face, again and again.

I wanted to demand why she had deceived me for three years. Was it really just because I made Rowan serve as a house-wolf for three days?

I wanted to show her everythingevery wound I'd suffered over those three years, every scar carved into my body.

Lay it all bare before her cold golden eyes.

But in the end, I did nothing.

I watched the woman who should have been confined to the outcast dens for three more days. She stood there in ceremonial furs worth a small territory's tribute, looking every inch the ruthless Alpha.

She had thrown this grand, wasteful birth-moon feast specifically for her pack liaison.

She had summoned her entire court-circle to celebrate, gazing at Rowan with open warmth as she wished him well on his naming day.

Then I turned away, my face showing nothing, and returned to the underground den I rented.

Dark. Damp. I had lived there for three years.

The washing corner was right by the entrance, its walls thick with moss that had built up over time, the smell of rot drifting through at random.

I still remembered my first days therethe constant sickness in my gut, the dry heaving.

For the first twenty-five years of my life, I had wanted for nothing. I was the firstborn heir of the noble Duskvale bloodline, raised in comfort, never having tasted hardship.

I was also a famed scent-weaver across many territories, my den walls lined with honor-marks and recognition tokens.

At the height of my standing, Aurora Frostveinthe Alpha heiress of the Frostvein Packhad pursued me without rest until I agreed to accept her mating bond.

After the bonding ceremony, I had easily become what wolves called a "blessed wolf."

Until Aurora brought in a soft-spoken, harmless-seeming pack liaison named Rowan.

He was the son of my family's house-servant, yet he competed with me at every turn.

His furs weren't as fine as mine, so he mocked me as a useless pretty-blood.

His abilities couldn't match mine, so he whispered behind my back that I had only gotten where I was through birthright or my mate's influence.

Worse still, he had worked his way into becoming Aurora's trusted liaisonand never missed a chance to poison her thoughts against me.

He told her how I supposedly mistreated his mother in our den, ruined his belongings.

How I had made him kneel and serve as a house-wolf.

I had always believed the truth would speak for itself. I never bothered to defend myself.

Until the day I finally completed the ward-weave I had worked on for two full years.

I was about to have it sealed and blessed. I stepped out for just a moment.

When I returned, it was soaked in black inkruined beyond saving.

Rowan stood nearby, a vial of ward-bane clutched in his hand, looking insufferably pleased with himself.

"Two whole years you spent weaving that territorial seal. Let's see you show off in front of Aurora now that it's ruined."

My vision went red. My fist connected with his face before I even realized I'd swung.

"You're always spreading rumors that I make you work like a servant?" I grabbed him by the collar of his tunic, hauling him close enough to catch the bitter satisfaction in his scent. "Fine. For the next three days, you will serve me. You're going to clean every inch of this weaving chamber until it's spotless."

That's when the door burst open.

Aurora stormed in, her dominant Alpha presence flooding the room like a cold tide. She took one look at the scene and immediately pulled Rowan behind her like a shield.

"Alaric, can you please get your temper under control?" Her voice dripped with disapproval. "Rowan tries so hard. Yes, he comes from a difficult backgroundan Omega without pack protectionbut why do you always have to target him?"

My chest heaved. "Aurora, you need to understandhe started this"

Before I could finish, Rowan ducked further behind her, his face crumpling into a mask of wounded innocence. His scent shifted to something pitiful and trembling.

"Aurora, it's my fault. I was just trying to help Alaric organize the weaving chamber, and I accidentally knocked over the ward-bane onto his territorial seal." His voice cracked perfectly. "He said he'd sell me to a rogue pack's pleasure den. And then hehe called my mother a scent-marked whore. Said she gave birth to a little whore who would spread his legs for any Alpha."

Tears streamed down his cheeks. "I can take the hitting. I can take the yelling. But why did he have to drag my mother into this?"

He was good. I had to give him that. Every sob, every trembling word, every carefully crafted note of distress in his scentflawless.

Aurora didn't ask me for my side. Didn't investigate. Didn't even hesitate.

She just looked at me with cold disappointment. "Alaric, what's happened to you? I don't even recognize you anymore."

I wanted to howl.

Even with Aurora defending him, I refused to back down. Rowan served those three days as promised.

When it was over, Aurora acted like nothing had happened. She just sighedlight, dismissive.

"Alaric, that temper of yours... when are you going to grow out of it? It was just a ward-weave." She waved her hand. "You've had your revenge. Let it go."

I was naive enough to believe it was over.

A few days later, word spread through the territories that the Frostvein Pack's resources had been frozen by decree of the Pack Council.

Aurora was placed under formal sanction shortly after, leaving me to deal with the wreckage.

At first, I wasn't worried. Even if the Frostvein Pack collapsed, I still had my parentsthe Alpha and Luna of House Duskvale.

I sent courier stone messages immediately.

Both connections had been severed. No response. No scent-trace.

Panic clawed at my throat. I rushed to the Duskvale estateonly to have Garrick Ironhollow deliver the news in a hollow voice.

The day the Frostvein Pack's troubles became public, my parents had rushed back across the sea to help. Their traveling party hit a territory collapse on a mountain passagea ward failure that triggered a landslide.

Neither survived.

My world collapsed overnight.

No parents. No mate to lean on. I sold everything I owned and moved into a damp cellar den, hiding from the rogue enforcers who'd somehow inherited my family's resource debts.

I couldn't sleep. Every creak, every shadow, every unfamiliar scentI waited for them to find me.

They did.

A group of claw-marked rogues stormed into the cellar with wooden clubs. I curled into a ball, but it didn't matter.

Two ribs, broken. My wrist, shattered beyond what any healer could fully mend.

I would never weave another ward again. My scent-channels were damaged beyond repair.

It took three years for me to accept my fate.

I gave up everythingmy art, my pride, my hopejust to survive.

And now I was being told it was all a lie.

Aurora's "Pack Sanction" had stripped me to the bone and rebuilt me into someone I didn't recognize.

A courier stone pulsed with warmth against my palm.

A scent-sealed note from Aurora.

"Alaric, my sanction ends in three days. Don't forget to escort me home."

My hand tightened around the stone until my knuckles went white. A dull ache spread through my chest where the mate bond should have hummed with warmth.

Even now, she was still playing her part.

She was already at the celebration gathering. I'd seen it with my own eyesher arms around Rowan, the massive feast spread across the table, the beautiful decorations of moonflowers and silver ribbons, everyone celebrating her supposed release.

And she was still treating me like a fool.

I stared at those words until tears blurred my vision.

I blinked them away and read the message again.

I pressed my claw-tip to the courier stone, letting my scent seal the reply:

"Understood. I'll meet you at the boundary in three days."

When the third dawn broke, I said nothing of Aurora's deception. I traveled to the edge of the Outcast Grounds where they released wolves who had served their bond-sentences.

I caught her scent before I saw herdeliberately muted, layered with false notes of suffering. She stood near the boundary marker dressed in torn furs, playing the part of a she-wolf broken by three years of isolation and resource rationing. She'd even used ash and herb-paste to paint a false scar across her muzzle.

When her eyes found me, she limped forward and threw herself against my chest.

"Alaric!"

She pressed into me, her eyes glistening with practiced tears.

"I worked so hard to prove my worth during the sanction. The Pack Elders said my behavior was beyond reproach, so they lifted my sentence early." Her voice shook with rehearsed emotion. "Alaric, these past few years must have been so difficult for you."

She gazed up at me with such devotionas if she had truly endured three years of pack exile.

I eased her back, keeping my expression still as stone. "It's good you're free."

Aurora hesitated. Something flickered behind her golden eyes. She seemed to sense the wrongness in the air between us. But then, in the next heartbeat, she seized my wrist.

"Alaric, what happened to your arm?"

Her concern appeared genuine. The worry creasing her brow didn't seem false.

But I found it hollow.

Aurora, what game are you playing now?

You're the one who sent those wolvesthe rogue enforcers disguised as outsider claw-gangs who beat me until my bones cracked and my flesh tore.

And now you pretend you didn't know?

A deep weariness settled into my chest. Or perhaps I was simply afraid to face what would happen when her lies finally collapsed around us.

"It's nothing. I fell during a hunt." I pulled my hand free from her grip. "The den-healers said it will mend with time."

Aurora let out a breath, her shoulders dropping with visible relief. "That's good to hear."

She reached for my hand again, threading her fingers through mine with exaggerated tenderness.

"The damage is to your weaving hand. If it worsens and affects your scent-work, you'll be devastated." Her voice dripped with honeyed concern.

Every word cut deeper than claws.

I used to possess extraordinary talent. My ward-weaves had won recognition across territories. Pack leaders sought my work to stabilize their borders. Everyone said I had a brilliant future as a scent-weaver.

But for the experimental healing trials. For the territory resources.

To secure Aurora's early release from her sanction.

I let them damage my scent-channels and shatter the bones in my weaving hand.

Now I can't even hold a marking brush. My ability to weave wards is gone.

And it turns out all of itevery sacrifice I madewas just part of some twisted punishment game Aurora had designed.

How pathetic I must seem.

I stayed silent the entire journey back to the den. Aurora grew visibly nervous, filling the quiet with a stream of chatterstories about her time in isolation, carefully rehearsed tales she'd clearly gathered from other wolves or pulled from old pack records.

All to convince me she'd really spent three years locked away from the world.

I listened without truly hearing. When she finally paused, I asked quietly:

"Aurora."

"Did I do something to wrong you?"

She went rigid. Her eyes reddened as she turned to face me.

"What do you mean, Alaric? Why would you ask such a thing?"

My mind drifted to the last time I'd been permitted to visit her supposed isolation den.

I'd been so happy. I'd saved my meager hunting portions for weeks, traded what little I had for fresh meat and herbs, prepared everything with my own hands, and brought it to her.

No wonder she'd wrinkled her nose and refused to eat.

The food was too common for her refined palate.

Of course it was. I thought she'd been suffering in exile for three years.

But the whole time, she'd been traveling across distant territories with her omega aidefeasting at alliance gatherings and tribute galas.

Why would she ever lower herself to share my hardship?

Even that den visit had been theater. She'd paid off the guards to stage the scene and play her part.

Three years. Three years I'd been their fool, their plaything, running in circles while they laughed at my devotion.

Tears slid down my face before I could stop them.

Aurora's composure cracked. She lunged forward, dabbing at my cheeks with her sleeve.

"Alaric, why are you crying? Did someone hurt you?"

I looked into her eyes.

"If someone hurt me, what would you do?"

"Would you still protect me like you swore in our bond-vowsno matter the cost, even if it meant your life?"

Aurora's hands trembled as she reached for a cloth to wipe my tears.

She didn't hesitate. Just nodded, fierce and certain.

"Anything, Alaric. Whatever you needjust say it. I'll make it happen."

I held her gaze. Those eyes, so earnest. So sincere.

"Really?"

"Then I want you to kill Rowan."

Her head snapped up. She stared at me, frozen.

"What did you just say?"

Panic flickered across her face. "Did something happen? Did you misunderstand something?"

She was terrified I'd caught on.

Her whole body went rigid.

"After the pack territory was seized, Rowan left his position as liaison and crossed the sea to another territory. I haven't had any contact with him in three years."

"Did he come after you during your sanction? If he did, I swear I'll make him pay"

I caught her wrist. Let out a soft laugh.

"I'm kidding."

"Taking a pack member's life without elder approval carries blood-debt, you know."

"You just finished serving your outcast sentence. How could I bear to see you marked again?"

"I was just teasing."

I turned away to grab something, keeping my expression hidden.

She couldn't see my face. Couldn't see what was really there.

She thought it was just a joke. I heard her exhalerelief bleeding out of her.

"Alaric, I'm sorry."

"These three years... you've suffered so much."

I didn't turn around.

But in my heart, I thought:

It's fine.

Your reckoning is coming.

After Aurora's public disgrace ended, I started making frequent trips to the Den-Healers' Hall.

The healer pulled me aside, her voice low. "Are you really not going to tell your bonded mate?"

"This isn't some minor wound. Your mate has a right to know what's happening to your body."

I shook my head, smiling faintly.

"Let's leave it. I don't want her to know. And I don't want treatment anymore."

Aurora was lurking in the stone corridor, catching fragments of the conversation through the walls. But not enough to piece together.

When I walked out, she was waiting.

"How did it go?" Concern painted her features. "What did the healer say?"

I smiled and shook my head, about to answer

When a courier stone in her pocket hummed with Rowan's scent-sealed message.

"Aurora, I've got way too much sweet-root wine at my den. Come help me finish it?"

"Oh, and I had a silk robe made for you. Want to come try it on?"

"Sure. I'm on my way."

Her lips curved upwardjust slightlyas she replied, voice perfectly calm.

She thought I hadn't heard. Covered the stone with her palm and turned to me, expression serious.

"Alaric, remember that alliance pact I mentioned? I'm going to discuss it now. If it works out, we might actually restore our standing in the territory."

I stared into Aurora's eyes.

When she'd claimed me as her mate, those same eyes had been filled with sincerity.

Now they held that same sincerity.

But the lies spilling from her lips? She didn't even blink.

My gaze must have unnerved her. She started to fidget, nearly tripping over her own composure.

"Alaric, are you... is something wrong?"

"Go ahead."

"If you can turn things around, you won't have to worry about those rogue enforcers anymore."

Those rogue enforcersevery single one of them sent by Aurora herself.

They'd cornered me in that dead-end passage between the outer dens.

Stripped our dwelling of anything worth taking.

Most days, I went three days between meals. When the hunger became unbearable, I'd drink from the well until my stomach stopped screaming.

Aurora let out a breath of relief, grabbed her cloak, and walked out.

I watched her retreating figure. Felt my gaze turn cold.

I thought about last nightwaking up in tears, asking Aurora

"Where are my parents?"

Back when Aurora's pack territory fell under resource freeze, I had tried to reach out to my parents through the courier stone network.

But every message went unanswered.

Aurora told me they had been caught in a territory collapse on their journey home. Both of themlost to the wards failing. She said their bodies were never recovered from the rubble. I spent three years searching through every allied pack's records. But just two days ago, I finally learned the truth.

They were not dead at all.

Aurora had tricked them into crossing the sea to distant territories.

Three whole years.

For three years, Aurora had been using my scent-seal to send them messages, telling them I was well and healingwhile I rotted away in that punishment den, and they had no idea their son was being broken apart.

"Aurora."

I looked into her eyes and decided to give her one last chance.

"Is there anything you have been hiding from me?"

She blinked, then reached over to smooth the hair from my forehead, her touch gentle as morning frost.

"Silly. How could I ever hide anything from you?"

I lowered my gaze, feeling the last flicker of hope die in my chest.

"Good."

After a pause, I said, "I miss my parents."

"First thing tomorrow, I will take you to visit the memorial stones we raised for them."

I asked about my parents' territory holdingssurely they would have left me some claim to the Duskvale resources.

But Aurora's answer came out halting, her scent turning sour with hesitation.

"Everything happened so suddenly. Before I could even sort through their bloodline affairs, I was marked as disgraced and cast into outcast status by the council."

"But now I have plenty of time to investigate what really happened back then."

Her gaze flickered like a candle in wind. She took my scarred hand in hers.

"Alaric, maybe your parents are not really dead. Maybe there is still hope."

Ha.

The three-year mark was almost here. She had lied to me about my parents' deaths, and now she could not keep the story straight anymore.

So she pivotedclaimed there might be hope after all.

Too bad. She had already squandered her last chance.

A few days later, Aurora made an excuse about a pack alliance meeting. In reality, she was going to see Rowan.

I watched the moon climb toward its peak, then scattered the sleeping herbs across the den floor.

The healer sent word through the courier stone. "Everything is ready."

I nodded and sent Aurora a scent-sealed message.

"Aurora, your punishment won. You wanted to protect Rowan? Fine. Take everything."

"Take my life too."

At that same moment, a courier stone hummed frantically in a distant den.