Down in the underground stone cellar, the air was thick and suffocating.
The type that reeked of dried sage, rust, blood and burnt silver.
Soren wiped a line of sweat from his brow with his linen sleeve and his fingers were stained dark from centuries-old blood-potions, but they didn’t shake.
Inside the cellar he held a long silver needle steady, and the tip wavering bare millimeters over the throbbing vein in the young wolf’s wrist.
“If you flinch,” Soren warned, his quiet voice low and measured , “the silver magic will sear straight through your core, and you’ll spend the rest of your days as a mindless, mad beast.
So breathe through your nose, Thomas.”
Thomas, a low-ranking rogue from the outer territories, let out a choked, terrified whimper while leather straps held his waist and forearms together and is bound tightly to Soren’s narrow worktable to stop him trashing around in the critical phase.
Shortly after, Across his throat, the glowing, remnant of a broken mate-mark appeared and flared wildly beneath his pale skin, and pulsed like a dying, erratic flame.
“I can’t endure it anymore, Soren” Thomas spat under a clenched teeth with blood leaking over his lower lip where he’d bitten down hard on, against the pain.
“My mate rejected me and left for the Northern Pack.
Every single time her new mate touches her, my chest feels like it’s being torn apart from the inside out.
Sever it.
Please…
just cut it out of me.”
“I’m working on it ,” Soren replied murmuring, and he immediately closed his eyes for a brief second, reaching past the physical world in meditation, and sinking into the hidden, taboo magic running through his own blood.
Unlike the usual pack wolves who relied on moon-born physical strength and shifting power, Soren possessed a much rarer and darker talent.
He was a Bond-Cutter and this job made him become a fugitive and an outlaw, operating in the deep shadows of the underbelly and performed what the High Packs named was an impossible taboo of severing the sacred, brutal chains and downside of an unwanted mate bonds.
And looking at him, no one would ever ever suspect he possessed such a terrifying power because Soren was small, slender, and undeniably cute, with soft, wavy blonde hair framing a face that looked far too delicate and feminine for the underground criminal world he currently is used to.
But under that pretty exterior lay a sharp, ruthless mind that cared more about making money because he was a rogue thus has no status nor privilege like the others, and at early age he had learned to hustle with his gift for resources.
Just when he opened his eyes, a faint streak of red light shined in Soren’s bright blue pupils.
He then pressed the silver needle straight into Thomas’s trembling skin.
A violent surge of magical pressure instantly flared through the dimly lit room making the silver needle glow white and hot, while absorbing the chaotic energy of Thomas’s unwanted bonds.
He gritted his teeth against the pain from forcing thin threads of his own blood-magic deep into the knot of the mark and focused every ounce of his concentration, using his power like a knife to slice through the ethereal bond, thread by thread.
Few moments later with a sharp, silent snap that vibrated straight through the whole environment, the glowing silver mark on Thomas’s neck went dim, and faded into a harmless scar.
Thomas let out a gasping sob, his entire body going completely limp against the leather belt used to restrain him on the table and the constant, agonizing ache in his chest instantly stopped, giving him relief for the first time in three long years, his mind was finally totally silent.
He was free.
“Clean the scar daily, keep it covered, and do not attempt to shift into your wolf form for at least three days,” Soren said smoothly.
He unbuckled the leather restraints and began wiping his tools with a rag soaked in wolfsbane solution.
“That will be forty gold pack credits.”
Thomas fumbled with trembling hands, pulling a heavy leather pouch from his belt and setting it on the table.
“You’re a savior, Soren.
May the Moon Goddess bless your soul.”
“The Moon Goddess didn’t grant you a clean bond break, Thomas.
I did,” Soren replied dryly, sweeping the gold into a hidden drawer beneath the counter.
“Now take the back exit through the old drainage tunnels before the local sentries circle back.”
Thomas didn’t need to be told twice.
He scrambled off the table and darted down the dark hallway, and disappeared into the shadows of the underground city.
Left alone, Soren exhaled slowly from exhaustion stretching his sore, narrow shoulders from the fatigue that always came with the raw energy cost of cutting a bond that isuall left a dull, throbbing ache behind his ribs, but forty gold credits would keep him hidden and fed for another six months so it was kind of worth it.
And out there in the lawless underbelly of the normal wolf territory, staying anonymous was life to him.
Because If the High Council ever discovered a rogue wolf spell-cutter was severing fate-given bonds, they wouldn’t just imprison him, in fact they would execute him on the spot for using black forbidden magic.
Soren turned to pack away his silver needles, but stopped dead in his tracks when the air in the room suddenly thinned and the hairs on his arms stood up as a crushing, suffocating pressure slammed into the underground chamber.
BOOM.
The heavy, steel doors of his sanctuary didn’t just swing open—they exploded inward, bursting into a cloud of flying wood splinters and shattered stone dust.
The sheer, magnificent weight of the Alpha’s aura invading the room, blew out every wall-mounted fire torch in an instant,and plunged the shop into a shadowed twilight.
Soren didn’t freeze nor looked amazed because all the years of surviving on the run had shaped his instincts to a sharp edge and instead In one swift movement, he drew out a long, runed silver dagger from beneath his counter and dropped into a low, agile defensive stance as thick smoke and dust from the earlier collide rolled across the stone floor and filling the room like a fog.
Slowly A massive, towering silhouette stepped through the lingering dust.
He wore dark, heavy armor trimmed in silver under a heavy fur cloak, and his impossibly broad shoulders practically filled the shattered doorway.
But it was his eyes that caught Soren’s breath his golden wolf eyes, shined bright and cut through the dark cellar like burning fire.
Alpha Kaelen Vane of the Blackthorn Pack.
Soren’s blood ran cold.
Every rogue, outlaw, and pack wolf on the continent knew that name and was terrified of it too.
He recognized him immediately because of the rumors of him that has been told as tales to the upcoming adult, as the only golden eyed alpha in the whole territory which was rare and meant he had more power than normal.
Every one knew that name also because Kaelen was a war hero to his people and a terrifying tyrant to his enemies.
Rumors even said he was ruthless, untamed, and unbelievably powerful.
Worse, he was notorious for viewing mate bonds as nothing more than a biological weakness that made warriors soft and also haven’t found his mate yet too.
Kaelen didn’t even glance at the ruined door or the scattered magical herbs on the shelves.
His golden gaze locked directly onto Soren, sweeping over his soft blonde hair, his wide, fierce blue eyes, and his delicate frame holding the silver dagger.
A slow, dangerously arrogant smirk touched Kaelen’s sharp lips as if mocking him.
“Soren the Blood-Cutter,” Kaelen’s deep, vibrating baritone voice vibrated the whole underground, like a smooth, hypnotic threat.
“The rumors said I’d find an illegal spell-cutter hiding in the dirt.
They neglected to mention you were so remarkably pretty and maybe even.
Weak.”he mentioned the last word deliberately and arrogantly
Soren adjusted his grip on the hilt of his blade and held it tighter, refusing to let his hands shake beneath the Alpha’s crushingly heavy aura.
“You’re trespassing on neutral ground, Alpha,” Soren said, his tone sharp, firm, and unyielding although it sounded small compared to the usual baritone most men possessed.
“State your business now before I coat this blade in fresh wolfsbane and see how well your legendary skin holds up.”
Kaelen actually chuckled a burst of a low, dark sound that sent an involuntary shiver straight down Soren’s spine but Instead of answering immediately, the Alpha stepped into the room and gestured behind him with a flick of his massive wrist.
Two heavily armored Blackthorn soldiers entered through the ruined doorway, half-dragging a third wolf bound in heavy, spell-carved silver chains.
The prisoner was thrashing violently, his eyes completely bloodshot and his fangs out and, it was obvious uncontrolled magic surged wildly out of his body and that wolf was going mad.
“My younger brother, Jesse, has been target-bonded to an enemy spy,” Kaelen said, his playful tone vanishing instantly, replaced by a cold, lethal authority.
“The forced bond is tearing his mind apart, and the enemy is using the bind to bleed our pack intelligence dry using him as a spy at their mercy.
If this continues, a full-scale war will break out by week’s end.”
Kaelen took two calm, deliberate steps forward, closing the space between them until the sharp tip of Soren’s silver dagger rested bare millimeters from the broad center of his chest.
The Alpha didn’t flinch.
Nor did he even look down at the lethal silver blade.
He just simply stared down into Soren’s doe eyes, his towering physique completely shadowing Soren’s small frame, and his golden gaze heavy with absolute dominance and unwavering command.
“You are going to sever his bond tonight, little spell-cutter,” Kaelen whispered, leaning down slightly so his warm breath brushed against Soren’s cheek over his brother’s thrashing growls .
“You do it, and I will hand you enough gold to live like a king, along with full Blackthorn immunity for the rest of your life as enough freedom you won’t have to hide from anyone”
Soren’s eyes narrowed and his brows fused together in contemplation , keeping his dagger still pressed tight against Kaelen’s chest unwavering.
“And if I refuse?”
Kaelen’s smirk returned, and it looked extremely cold, razor-sharp, and intensely possessive.
“Then I tear this underground sanctuary down to the bedrock—with you buried inside it.”
Hey everyone, welcome to Unbinding the Alpha!
And Welcome to Soren and Kaelen’s story!
Soren might look soft and delicate on the outside, but as you can see, he is definitely not one to back down from a massive Alpha—even with a blade held straight to his chest.
To my readers: What do you think of Kaelen’s chaotic, arrogant entrance?
Do you think Soren should take the gold, or try to run for the drainage tunnels again?
Chapter 2 is coming right up!