Chapter 10
670words
"Kneel," Kieran instructs softly.
I kneel in the candle circle. Kieran kneels before me, firelight highlighting his features.
"The ritual has three parts,” he explains quietly. "I'll sense the bond, channel the pack's energy to weaken it, then you must reject it completely.”
"How?"
"You'll know." He takes my hands in his, his touch warm and steady. My pulse quickens traitorously. "This will be unpleasant. If it becomes too much—"
"It won't," I interrupt. "I want this more than I fear the pain."
His eyes soften with respect, a silent acknowledgment of my strength. "Close your eyes. Focus on your wolf.”
I let my consciousness sink inward, my wolf rising eagerly to meet me, though I remain aware of Kieran's proximity, his scent of pine and smoke, and the strength in his hands holding mine.
Focus, I tell myself sternly. This isn't about him.
Kieran speaks in an ancient language, the words vibrating in the air. His thumbs caress my wrists, sending unexpected heat through my veins.
Then I feel it—a gentle probing at the edges of my mind. Not invasive like Marcus's presence, but cautious, respectful. Kieran, seeking the bond.
I let him in, guiding him toward the dark, twisted thing that connects me to Marcus. It pulses like an infected wound, buried deep in my psyche.
Kieran recoils slightly when he finds the bond, then steadies. The pack joins in, their energy flowing through him into me. The bond writhes, fighting back with burning pain. I gasp but hold firm.
Kieran presses his forehead to mine, the contact electric. His breath mingles with mine as my wolf surges forward, drawn to his strength.
"Selene," Kieran's voice cuts through the pain. "Look at me."
I open my eyes to find his face inches from mine, eyes glowing alpha gold. Something passes between us that has nothing to do with the ritual and everything to do with how my body responds to his nearness.
"Now," he says, his voice deeper than before. "Reject the bond. Push him out."
I focus on the twisted connection, gathering my strength and my rage. Three years of pain, of submission, of fear.
"You have no claim on me," I say, the words coming from somewhere deep inside. "I reject your mark. I reject your bond. I reject you."
The bond writhes more violently. In the distance, I hear a howl of rage and pain. Marcus, feeling what I'm doing.
"Again," Kieran urges, one hand releasing mine to cup the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. The touch is necessary for the ritual, I tell myself, even as my skin burns beneath his palm.
"I reject your mark. I reject your bond. I reject you!" My voice rises, my wolf howling the words with me.
The pain intensifies, spreading from my neck throughout my body. The mating bite burns like fire. I sway, nearly collapsing, but Kieran's arm slides around my waist, holding me upright, pulling me against his chest.
"Once more," he says, his voice strained with effort, his lips near my ear. "Mean it, Selene."
Our bodies press together, his strength flowing into me. My wolf responds to his nearness, to his touch, in a way that confuses and frightens me. This isn't like Marcus's dominance—this is something else, something that calls to parts of me I thought long dead.
I gather every ounce of hatred, every moment of defiance I've ever felt. "I REJECT YOU!"
Something snaps inside me. The bond breaks with an audible crack, sending me sprawling backward as Marcus's distant howl cuts off abruptly.
For a moment, I'm lost. Then awareness returns—the pack surrounding us, their energy supporting. Kieran kneels beside me, concern in his eyes.
"Selene?" His voice seems to come from far away. "Can you hear me?"
I blink, focusing on his face. "Is it done?"
