Moonbound to Another The Alpha's Lost Claim

At my most naive, I caught Ronan Ashvane claiming another she-wolf the night before our Mating Ceremony. I didn't confront him, didn't scream, didn't ask a single question. I just gave him three days to cut things off with that woman.

Day one, they ran the highland trails together in wolf form, pelts brushing, and posed for spirit network photos like bonded mates. I told myself it was fine.

Day two, they spent twenty-four hours tangled together in his den, refusing to be apart. I told myself he was just temporarily out of his mind.

By day three, he brought her straight to me.

"Seraphina, we're only twenty-three. We're young, we're restless. I don't want to walk into a mating bond this early."

"So, for the sake of everything I've done for you, for the fact that I nearly died for you, can you make a deal with me?"

I said nothing.

He bit down on his cigarette and went on:

"We give each other three years. During those three years, we do our own thing, no interference. Once we're twenty-six and we've both grown up, we come back, settle down, live a quiet life together. Deal?"

I laughed.

"Whatever makes you happy."

Forget three years. Even thirty years wouldn't matter, because he had nothing to do with me anymore.

I was mating someone else.

Three years later.

Ronan Ashvane, who'd spent three glorious years gallivanting across distant pack territories with his little she-wolf, was back.

The moment he stepped off the plane, cameras swarmed him and the girl at his side, Talira Holloway. Even through the crystal screen of my communicator, I could practically smell it: that overly sweet magnolia clinging to him like a second skin.

"Alpha Ashvane, three years ago you left Ms. Thornfield for Ms. Holloway on the eve of your Mating Ceremony. Now that you're back, do you plan to reconcile with Ms. Thornfield?"

Three years had changed Ronan. His hair was longer, and the boyishness in his features had given way to something sharper, more polished. His wolf sat closer to the surface now, visible in the amber edge of his eyes, the way he carried himself like every room owed him deference.

But when he opened his mouth, he was the same cocky bastard as ever: "Reconcile? Seraphina and I never ended our courtship. I'm back to keep our promise and complete the mating. Settle down for good."

The reporters tried to press further, but he was already shielding Talira into the car and pulling away.

I took a sip of my coffee and had just turned off my communicator when a voice drifted in from the doorway: "Seraphina. Long time no see."

The man who'd been on my screen seconds ago was now standing right in front of me.

His scent hit first. Woodsmoke and crushed juniper with that acrid metallic edge underneath. Three years ago it would have made my wolf whimper and press toward the surface. Now she didn't even stir.

When I didn't respond, Ronan smiled and raised an eyebrow: "What? Forgotten your own intended mate?"

I gave a faint smile: "I remember."

Ronan pulled Talira down into the seat across from me and spoke in that lazy drawl of his: "Seraphina, our deal expires in one week. Before that, I want to give Talira a ceremony first. She followed me for three years, and all she's asking for before she walks away is this one thing. I'm hoping you'll agree."

"Don't worry. Once Talira's ceremony is done, she and I are done for good. After that, I'll give you a grand Mating Ceremony and we'll start our life together."

Ronan finished and sat there, waiting for my answer.

Talira sat beside him the whole time, docile and obedient, as if whatever he said was gospel. Her scent curled across the table, magnolia and clover honey, sweet enough to coat the back of the throat. Underneath it, something faintly wrong. Something my wolf would have caught years ago, if I'd been paying attention.

Looking at her like that, I finally understood how she'd appeared for just one moon cycle and made him throw away seven years of us without a second thought, even calling off the Mating Ceremony entirely.

"Seraphina Thornfield?" Ronan's voice cut in when he noticed me spacing out, a flicker of irritation crossing his face: "Did you hear a word I just said?"

"I heard you." I snapped back and smiled with a small nod: "Do whatever you want. It's really none of my business."

Ronan froze for a second. Then his brow furrowed, an uncomfortable knot forming in his chest.

What did she mean, none of her business?

She was his intended mate. The love of his life. The she-wolf he intended to spend the rest of his days with.

How could it be none of her business!

Ronan looked at me, his expression hardening: "Seraphina, I'm telling you this so you won't get the wrong idea."

I raised an eyebrow: "Relax. I won't get the wrong idea."

After all, none of this had anything to do with me anymore.

"If there's nothing else, I'll be going."

I stood, grabbed my bag, and headed for the door.

"Wait!"

Ronan stopped me mid-step.

I turned back to face him, my expression flat. "Was there something else?"

My indifference caught him off guard. Something tightened in his jaw, and after a long, stilted pause, the words finally dragged out of him. "These three years have you been seeing anyone?"

I blinked, then shook my head. "No."

After all, that man wasn't a boyfriend. He was my mate.

Ronan's eyes lit up. "Then you should come to my mating ceremony with Talira this Saturday. You can if you want. Once the ceremony's over, she and I are done for good, and then it'll be our turn."

I stared at him for a beat, then laughed.

How had I never noticed how revolting this man was?

I didn't spare either of them another glance. I turned and walked out.

Once I was outside, I drew a deep breath. The tight knot in my chest loosened, just barely.

I'd assumed that seeing him again wouldn't stir a single thing in me, body or soul.

I'd overestimated myself.

Ronan and I got together when we were sixteen.

When I was eighteen, I was kidnapped. He took on three armed rogues alone.

Three slash wounds. He nearly bled out.

He shielded me with his own body, and right before he lost consciousness, he grinned at me like an idiot. "Seraphina, if I die, mourn me for three moons. Then go find someone who loves you even more than I do."

I sobbed and told him no one ever could.

After that, I was more certain than ever that I would bond with Ronan Ashvane.

I even defied my father, betting him that Ronan would ask for the mating rite.

If he didn't, I'd go home and agree to a strategic match with whatever Alpha my pack chose.

Back then, I was so sure of myself.

And reality slapped me across the face.

Ronan claimed another she-wolf. And after those three days I gave him, he weaponized the fact that he'd once saved my life and proposed what he called a "three-year arrangement."

But none of that mattered anymore. He and I had nothing to do with each other now.

My communicator buzzed, cutting through my thoughts.

I glanced at the caller and picked up.

A low, steady voice came through the other end. "Seraphina. When are you coming home?"

The faintest trace of old-growth cedar bled through the connection, as if even his voice carried it. My lips curved. "Seven more days to wrap things up, then I'm heading back to Blackmere territory."

The man said a quiet "okay."

I smiled. "All right, I need to get back to work. Say hi to the little one for me."

The second I hung up, a message came through on the spirit network.

Ms. Thornfield, could I come by and take a look at the gown?

After Ronan left, I'd picked up my old craft again and opened a moonweave atelier, crafting ceremonial mating gowns for she-wolves across the territories.

The reason I was in Aston was a commission that came in two days ago. Sky-high budget, requesting a one-of-a-kind moonweave mating gown.

I typed out a reply.

Sure, come straight to my studio.

I sent her the address of my temporary workspace and headed over.

I'd barely been there two minutes when a knock came at the door, followed by a voice I recognized instantly.

"Ms. Thornfield."

I looked up. The moment I saw who it was, everything clicked into place. So that was why she'd sought out a no-name designer like me. A scent drifted in with her, magnolia and clover honey, too sweet, layered over something I couldn't quite name. Something my wolf didn't like.

Talira smiled and stepped forward. "How's my gown coming along? May I see it?"

Not a flicker of surprise on her face.

I knew then that she'd known it was me all along. Every bit of this had been deliberate.

I gathered the sketches off the table. "Sorry. I'm not taking this commission anymore."

I'd barely reached the door when Ronan came striding up the hall. He spotted me and froze. "Seraphina?"

Before I could say a word, Talira rushed forward and latched onto his arm.

"Ronan, I had no idea the designer making my gown was Ms. Thornfield. If I'd known, I never would have gone to her. Ronan, I swear it wasn't on purpose. I wasn't trying to show off or provoke her. But our mating ceremony is only a week away. If Ms. Thornfield won't do it, I really don't know what I'm going to do."

Talira leaned against his shoulder and began to sob quietly.

Ronan's expression shifted instantly. He turned to me: "Seraphina, what did you say to her?"

I let out a disbelieving laugh. "How would I know what I supposedly said to her?"

Ronan frowned.

Talira grabbed his hand, her eyes rimmed red. "Ronan, please don't fight with Ms. Thornfield. This whole thing is my fault."

She turned to me and lowered her gaze, dropping her chin in a show of submission. "I'm sorry, Ms. Thornfield. If I'd known sooner that you were the designer, I never would have come to you for a mating gown. But please believe me, I never meant to provoke you. I'm grateful that three years ago you gave Ronan and me a chance. These three years have been the happiest days of my life. In seven days I'll give him back to you, and you'll never have to see me again."

Watching her little performance, I scoffed. That magnolia scent rolling off her in waves, sweet enough to choke on. "If I'd known it was you, I wouldn't have taken the commission either. As for Ronan"

I paused, looked him dead in the eye, and said, word by word: "You two don't need to break up. I'm handing him over to you. He's yours."

Ronan's face drained of color. He seized my wrist. "Seraphina, what the hell do you mean by that?"

I wrenched free of his grip. "Exactly what it sounds like."

"What do you mean, 'exactly what it sounds like'?"

"What do you mean, 'handing me over'?"

"I'm your intended mate. Your bonded Alpha. Not something you can give away."

Ronan was losing it. His scent had gone sharp, all acrid metal and burnt juniper, flooding the atelier. "You'd better explain yourself right now, or you're not leaving."

Every trace of warmth left my face. "You're not my intended mate. You're sure as hell not my bonded Alpha. And I'm already mar"

"Ronan, please stop arguing with Ms. Thornfield." Talira cut in abruptly. "Ms. Thornfield, none of this would have happened if I hadn't insisted Ronan give me a mating ceremony."

She looked at Ronan with glistening eyes. "Ronan, forget the ceremony. I don't want it anymore. I'm leaving right now."

She spun around and bolted for the door.

"Talira!"

Panic flooded Ronan's face, then pure fury as he whipped back toward me.

"Seraphina! You waited three years. There are seven days left. Was it really so hard to cut her some slack?"

He spat the words and took off after her.

I tugged at the corner of my mouth, picked up my bag, and walked out.

I had barely reached the entrance when Ronan's voice ripped through the air: "Talira! Behind you!"

I looked up.

A cargo hauler had blown through the intersection and was barreling straight toward Talira.

She had no time to dodge. The impact launched her off her feet.

She lay in a spreading pool of blood. The magnolia scent was gone. What rose from the pavement was only copper, hot and wrong.

"Talira!"

Ronan sprinted forward, scooped her into his arms, and ran for the Healing Hall.

I pressed my lips together. I had just turned to leave when hands shoved me into a car.

"Ms. Thornfield, Alpha Ashvane told us to bring you along."

The Healing Hall was chaos. Voices clashing, wolves everywhere.

"Healer! Save her! Please, somebody help!"

Ronan stood rigid, both hands slick with Talira's blood, his face white as bone.

The pack sentinels deposited me in front of him. "Alpha Ashvane, she's here."

Ronan lifted his eyes to mine and snarled: "Seraphina! Talira is in there because of you! Are you happy now? Is this what you wanted?"

I let out a cold, quiet laugh.

I was about to turn and walk out when the moon-healer's voice came from behind me: "The patient has lost too much blood and has a clotting disorder. The reserves don't have what she needs for emergency supply. She requires a continuous blood-letting throughout the procedure, or her life is at risk."

Ronan snapped back to himself. He grabbed my wrist again, wild-eyed. Something flickered gold in his irises, unstable, animal.

"She's a universal donor. Compatible with every blood type. Use hers! Get her into the ritual chamber now! You save Talira, no matter what it takes!"

I stared at him in disbelief and started fighting to break free. "Ronan, have you lost your mind? Her accident has nothing to do with Ah!"