Chapter 6
When I woke, I was no longer in the cold forest, but lying on a bed of thick furs in a warm, dry cave. A heavy blanket covered me. Torches glowed softly along the stone walls, casting shadows and warmth that danced like quiet flames. The air smelled faintly. of herbs, cedar, and snowmelt.
The searing pain of rejection had dulled. It was still there, a low ache beneath my ribs, but no longer consuming. My body was weak, but my wolf had regained strength. I felt lighter, as if part of the burden had been lifted and carried away by unseen hands.
“You’re finally awake,” came a deep voice from the entrance.
The Alpha.
He stepped inside, now clean and dressed in simple dark clothes that fit him perfectly, as if they’d been made for his body alone. In his hands was a stone bowl of steaming broth, the savory aroma making my stomach twist painfully with hunger.
He crossed the space between us and offered the bowl. “Eat. It’ll help.”
I sat up slowly, bracing myself against the wall. “I don’t know who you are, or where I am.”
“I’m Asher,” he said. “You’re in Ashborn territory.”
My breath caught. The Ashborn Pack ruled the entire Northern Territory–wealthy, vast, and fiercely dominant. Compared to my old pack, theirs was massive. And Asher… he was the Northern Alpha. A legend.
Stories whispered his name with a mix of awe and fear. His wolf was said to be unmatched in power, which was larger, deadlier, and born for war. No one dared defy him.
A chill rippled through me. I had wandered straight into the heart of his land–alone, broken, vulnerable.
He didn’t seem surprised by my guarded stare. “Your scent is chaotic,” he said, voice low. “Rejection. Rogue despair. But something else, too.”
His silver–gray eyes met mine, sharp and unwavering. “There’s a scent I can’t ignore. You know what it means.”
Heat rose in my cheeks. That scent–bond pheromones–marked me as his fated mate. No amount of denial could hide it.
“I don’t plan to act on it,” I said, more defensive than I intended.
“But your wolf already has,” Asher replied. “She’s happy to be near me. I can feel it.”
I said nothing. He was right. My wolf pulsed with joy, eager to move closer. There was no use hiding it, not from someone like
him.
“Drink,” he said again, gently nudging the bowl toward me.
I hesitated, then took it. Hunger overruled pride. The warmth of the broth spread through me with every sip, steadying my
hands and quieting my nerves.
He sat beside me in silence, watching. His gaze was intense which was too much for me. It felt possessive, as if I already belonged to him. Embarrassed, I turned my face away, cheeks burning.
“Why did you help me?” I asked. I needed to know why someone like him had cared.
“Because the Moon Goddess brought you to me,” he said simply. “You’re mine.”
“I don’t belong to anyone,” I snapped, my voice sharper than I’d meant.
He only chuckled, unfazed.
“We’ll talk more when you’re stronger,” he said, standing. “Rest. Eat. Then we’ll see where this bond takes us, whether you resist it or not.”
Chapter 7
Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella’s storytelling style is immersive and addictive—perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.
