The council chamber doors slammed shut behind me with a finality that echoed through the stone corridors.
My hands shook as I pressed my back against the cold marble, my heart hammering against my ribs like a caged animal desperate for escape.
Triple bond. The words repeated in my mind like a death knell.
Not just any bond—the rarest, most dangerous connection between mates. The kind that had toppled kingdoms and driven alphas to madness. The kind that made rational men into slaves to their emotions.
“Your Highness?” A servant’s voice cut through my spiraling thoughts. “The council is asking—”
“Tell them I’m indisposed.” My voice came out as a growl that sent the young woman scurrying backward. “Tell them whatever you want. Just… leave me alone.”
I pushed off from the wall and strode through the palace corridors, my boots echoing against polished stone. Servants and courtiers scattered from my path, their whispered conversations dying as I passed.
Good. Let them wonder.
Let them speculate about the crown prince’s sudden departure from the most important council meeting of the year.
The triple bond explained everything—the overwhelming pull I felt toward Lilith, the way my wolf clawed at my chest whenever she was near, the electric current that ran through my veins at her slightest touch.
What I’d mistaken for simple attraction was something far more dangerous.
Something that could destroy everything I’d worked for.
I reached my chambers and barricaded the door, my breathing ragged. The room felt too small, too confining.
I needed air, needed space, needed to think clearly without the intoxicating scent of rain and lightning clouding my judgment.
But even here, surrounded by familiar walls and the comfort of solitude, I could feel her.
The bond hummed beneath my skin like a living thing, pulling me toward her with invisible threads I couldn’t sever.
“Weakness,” I spoke the word aloud, tasting its bitter truth. “This is a weakness.”
My father’s voice echoed in my memory, cold and commanding: “A king cannot afford to love, Kieran. Love is vulnerability. Love is a blade your enemies will use to cut you down.”
He’d been right.
Every lesson, every brutal training session, every moment of enforced emotional distance had been preparation for this—for the day when I would have to choose between my heart and my crown.
The choice should have been simple. I was the heir to the Willowclaw throne, destined to rule over seven territories and command the loyalty of thousands.
Personal desires were luxuries I couldn’t afford.
But the bond pulsed stronger, sending waves of longing through my body that made my knees weak. I could feel Lilith’s confusion, her growing worry as she searched for me through the palace.
The connection between us was so strong I could practically taste her tears.
“No.” I slammed my fist against the stone wall, welcoming the sharp pain that cleared my head. “I won’t be controlled by this. I won’t be weak.”
A soft knock at my door made me freeze.
“Your Highness?” Lilith’s voice was muffled by the heavy wood, but I could hear the concern, the vulnerability that made my chest ache. “Are you alright? You left so suddenly…”
I pressed my back against the door, closing my eyes as her scent seeped through the cracks.
Every instinct screamed at me to open it, to pull her into my arms and never let go. The bond urged me forward, promising relief from the gnawing emptiness that had carved itself into my chest.
“I’m fine,” I managed, hating how my voice cracked on the words. “Just… tired.”
“The council members are asking questions. They want to know why you stormed out during the territorial negotiations.”
Let them ask. Let them wonder if their future king was losing his mind. Better that than the truth—that I was losing myself to something I couldn’t control.
“Tell them I’ll reconvene tomorrow.”
“Prince Kieran, please.” Her palm pressed against the door, and I could feel the warmth of her touch even through the wood. “Let me help. Whatever’s wrong, we can—”
“There is no ‘we.’” The words tore from my throat like shards of glass. “There can’t be.”
Silence stretched between us, heavy with hurt and confusion.
I could feel her pain through the bond, sharp and immediate, cutting through my resolve like a blade through silk.
“I don’t understand,” she whispered.
“You don’t need to.” I forced steel into my voice, every word a calculated blow. “You need to stay away from me.”
“Stay away?” Her voice rose, disbelief coloring every syllable. “Kieran, we’re mates. The bond—”
“The bond is a mistake.” I turned from the door, unable to bear the sound of her breaking heart. “A chemical reaction. Nothing more.”
“You don’t mean that.” But I did. I had to.
Because the alternative was surrendering to something that would make me vulnerable, dependent, weak. And a weak king was a dead king.
I listened to her footsteps retreat down the corridor, each step pulling at the bond until I thought it might snap. But it didn’t break.
It just stretched, growing tighter and more painful with every inch of distance between us.
When the sound of her presence finally faded, I collapsed into the chair by my window, staring out at the moonlit gardens where she often walked.
The bond pulsed with phantom pain, but I embraced it. Pain was better than weakness.
Pain was something I could control.
Hours passed in silence, broken only by the steady tick of the ancient clock on my mantelpiece. Every minute felt like an eternity, every second a test of my resolve.
The bond whispered promises of relief, of completion, of a happiness I’d never known. But happiness was a luxury I couldn’t afford.
I was the crown prince of Willowclaw, son of the Lycan King. I would rule with strength, with logic, with the cold calculation that had kept my bloodline on the throne for over a thousand years.
I would not be destroyed by love.