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.