Chapter 3. The Sacred Tie

Daniel’s POV

The evening unfolded exactly as any other had, with no hint that everything in my life was about to shift irrevocably within minutes. There was no warning, no dark omen foreshadowing the way tonight would tip the scales of my destiny. And yet it did.

We were gathered around the campfire, my two brothers and I, the orange glow dancing across our faces as it licked at the night air. My father passed me a cold beer—his usual genial habit—while I waited for Margaret to show. “Thanks,” I muttered under my breath, voice low and distracted.

I flipped the bottle cap off with a practiced flick of my wrist, then tilted the beer toward me and took a long pull, savoring the crisp chill as it slid down my throat. The mellow hiss of the fire and the crackle of the logs faded into the background as my mind wandered. My younger brother was mid-tale of some crude sex joke, and my older brother was roaring with laughter in appreciation. I’d heard all those stories before; by the time they’d turned twelve, I’d already grown out of that phase. At sixteen and eighteen, their humor should have matured—when would they finally grow up?

Fifteen minutes ticked by before Margaret drifted into view. She wore a snug white top that accentuated her curves and a pair of blue shorts that revealed her long, toned legs. With a casual flip of her blonde hair over one shoulder and that million-watt smile lighting up her face, she stepped past my father and settled into my lap. My chest warmed at the sight, though I caught my father’s gaze lingering on her backside, his gaze too obvious, too predatory. He licked his lips as if she were some prize carcass. I hated that look. He had plenty of willing she-wolves who happily played his game—so why did he have to eye the one girl I cared about like she was meat for the taking?

My brother Skyler tossed Margaret a beer to ease the tension, and mercifully the conversation pivoted away from locker-room anecdotes to serious pack matters. Laughter and commentary resumed; the night carried on its familiar rhythm. But inexplicably, I stopped hearing them.

In an instant, the world around me snapped out of focus. A force unlike anything I’d ever experienced washed over me, accompanied by the most intoxicating scent—a heady, humming aroma that teased every nerve ending. My entire body tingled, each cell buzzing with energy I could neither resist nor fully comprehend. I didn’t want to resist it; I tried to embrace it, savor its power.

And it was drawing nearer.

No one else around me seemed to notice this shift in atmosphere. My brothers continued their jokes, the fire sounded like distant fireworks underwater, and my father's and Skyler's laughter sounded muffled, as though separated from me by a thick pane of glass. All my attention was riveted on that presence slinking through the trees, something at once mysterious and achingly familiar.

Then she appeared.

I sprang to my feet so fast Margaret tumbled off my lap and hit the ground with a soft thud. I didn’t care. To me, she was invisible—there was only one she-wolf in the clearing that mattered. She strode into the firelight with an air of fierce elegance, as though royalty walked upon these woods. My breath caught in my throat.

She was the most stunning wolf I had ever laid eyes on: her coat was a deep, lustrous ebony, with a bright white breast, belly, and paws that almost glowed in the campfire’s flicker. A sleek white streak ran beneath her tail, adding an extra touch of alluring contrast. Even my wolf—my inner wolf—pricked her ears at her approach, a low rumble vibrating through me as hunger and curiosity warred for dominance. He was desperate to investigate what lay beneath that silken tail.

Her fur had a cut and fullness I’d never encountered before. The hair on her chest jutted out in an artful tuft, while on her forehead another rebellious cluster of strands fell over one eye. She shook her head once, flipping the hair out of her vision with a careless flip as she took in the campsite. I could have watched that simple gesture forever.

Then shock slammed into me, coloring my awe with anguish. Her face, her movements, that unmistakable pull in my very soul—I knew in that second that I’d found Elizabeth, the wolf whose name I’d never dared to hope I’d hear called mine.

But I couldn’t have her. Ever.

Alpha—father—detested her. He’d never said why, only that his loathing for Elizabeth ran deeper than any grudge I’d ever witnessed. The one time I’d questioned his cruelty, I’d paid for it with three broken ribs and a bruised heart. His resentment was visceral, and I knew with bone-deep certainty he would never tolerate me choosing her.

He would destroy her first.

My heart pounded as the others finally registered the break in our circle. Father’s head whipped around, nostrils flaring, eyes narrowing in anger at the interruption. He snarled, voice laced with command: “Shift.”

Elizabeth stumbled, her strong legs trembling beneath her as the transformation seized her. Fur erupted across her limbs, bones rattled, and within seconds, she stood as a she-wolf in full. The instant he recognized her, I realized I’d given myself away—my reaction had sealed her fate. There was no more hiding the mate bond.

“No!” he roared, springing to his feet. His gaze burned with lethal intent as he advanced toward her. “I will end this now!”

He meant to kill her right there in front of everyone. I felt my wolf surge at the threat, his howl of rage echoing my own. “Stop!” I shouted.

Father whipped to face me, eyes ablaze. “You know this cannot happen. I don’t care what the Moon decrees. She dies!”

My primal instinct screamed at me to fight—tear him apart for daring to threaten my mate. The ancient strength within me boiled, craving blood and justice. But then the brutal reality closed around me: my father’s wolf was something far more formidable than mine. He was cunning, ruthless, and undefeated. He had challenged alpha packs and rival tribes alike—never once had he tasted defeat.

Agony crashed into my chest like a sledgehammer. I could not win. And if I challenged him, the outcome for Elizabeth would be worse. Either he’d kill us both in a blind rage, or spare me only to slay her as proof of his dominance and to crush my heart. Either way, she would die.

I could not allow that.

There was only one way to save her—and it killed me to accept it. I had to sacrifice my claim. I had to break the mate bond before it bound us forever.

Swallowing the howl in my throat, I straightened, stepping in front of my father and offering him a low growl. “No,” I said, voice steady though my hands shook. “This isn’t happening. We cannot condone killing her—she has done nothing to deserve death.”

My words hung in the night air like a knife. Father’s eyes flicked to me, dark and incredulous, but I held his stare. Then I turned and crossed to where Elizabeth wilted by the firelight, trembling as though she sensed the lethal currents swirling around her. I knelt and placed a gentle hand on her bicep, careful not to let my desperation show. Each contact sent shards of longing through me.

“Elizabeth,” I whispered, voice crushed with sorrow. “Listen to me very carefully. This cannot happen. You need to leave. Walk away now and forget any of this ever occurred.”

Her white-flecked eyes brimmed with tears as she stared back at me, lips quivering. She pressed her arms to her chest, as though trying to hold herself together. “But—” she began, voice cracking.

I cut her off, forcing calm words through the pain twisting my gut. “Let me be clear,” I said, heartbreaking each word. “I don’t want you now. I will not want you ever again. Do you understand me?”

Tears spilled down her furrowed cheeks. I fought against the sob in my throat, hating myself for the grief I was inflicting. She glanced fearfully over my shoulder at my father, and then back at me, pain etched into every line of her face. She said nothing—no protest, no denial—only lowered herself to all fours. With a last glance that shattered me, she turned and fled into the darkness beyond the firelight.

And just like that, it was over.

A searing hollowness opened in my chest, and I dropped to my knees as if cut in two. The woman meant to be mine raced away, leaving only the echo of her footfalls and the torment of her absence. My breath caught in my throat, every heartbeat a reminder of the sacrifice I’d made.

She would move on—somehow I would, too. But the part of me bound to her would never recover. The price of saving her life had been ripping my own heart to shreds.