Chapter Fourteen: A bond we dare not name
The scent had dissipated, as if it had never been there in the first place.
Esterphania stood frozen under the moonlight, her mind racing. "This isn't possible," she muttered, stepping backward, trying to make sense of it all.
Alexander, instinctively, reached out and caught her wrist. "Hey, hey, hey, wait."
The moment their skin touched, a current of electricity pulsed between them. Their eyes locked, and his irises darkened to a deeper shade of gray, almost black. He looked down at their point of contact, something primal flickering in his gaze.
Esterphania flinched and yanked her hand free, a mix of awe and alarm shadowing her face. "You must be kidding me."
"Wait. Alright, alright. I won't touch you." He raised his hands in surrender and took a calming breath. "Just... can we talk?"
She studied him for a beat before sighing and walking over to the stone garden bench. He followed and sat beside her, a tense silence settling between them.
"How is this possible?" she finally asked. "I'm not a lycan."
"Well," Alexander began, resting his elbows on his knees, "lycans are... unique. A werewolf can only mate with another werewolf, or maybe a half-breed, but lycans? We can bond with any creature. Angels, demons, humans, vampires. You name it. That's why we call it erasthai."
She folded her arms tightly across her chest. "So what does this mean for us?"
"It means," he said carefully, "if a lycan bonds with a non-lycan, the attraction we feel is ten times more intense. And rejecting the bond? Not easy. For a royal lycan like me, it's impossible."
He glanced at her, gauging her reaction.
"Also," he continued, "you may be strong, but your powers haven't reached their peak. You won't get your full strength unless I... mark you. And we, you know..."
"You're disgusting," she cut him off with a sneer. "You're not my type."
He gave a dry, unimpressed look. "I'm your erasthai."
"You're four hundred years old. You're an old man."
"So? I look no older than twenty."
"That's not the point. This is bullshit." She rubbed her temples. "So what do we do?"
He thought for a long while. "You don't like me. And I... I can't break Melody's heart."
She turned sharply toward him. "So you mean..."
"Yes," he said, voice low. "Let's pretend nothing is going on."
She stared at him in disbelief. "You're an asshole, you know that, right?"
He didn't reply.
She scoffed, shook her head, and stormed off, her footsteps echoing like thunder behind her.
---
The next morning, the royal family gathered in the dining hall for breakfast. As always, Esterphania was the last to arrive.
"Where is this girl?" the king grumbled, looking toward the stairs.
Without thinking, Alexander said, "She'll descend the stairs soon."
As if on cue, she did. Dressed in a flowing robe, her hair cascading over her shoulders, she walked in with that usual air of quiet aloofness. Alexander's eyes followed her unconsciously, drinking her in without a thought.
"How did you know?" the king asked.
"Know what?" Alexander replied, pulled from his daze.
"That she would descend the stairs."
He laughed nervously. "Lucky guess."
Esterphania sat down gracefully, her face expressionless, but she could feel Alexander's gaze even without looking at him.
"It's good you're here," the king addressed her. "I have something to tell you."
She raised an eyebrow. "What is it, Father?"
"Do you know Prince Felix Delthorne of Nyrus?"
She blinked. "Yes. What about him?"
"He's asked for your hand in marriage."
A hush fell over the table.
"Oh..." Esterphania said cautiously.
"That's nonsense. She won't marry him," Alexander declared, his voice sharp and cutting.
The king turned to him with narrowed eyes. "I believe I was talking to Esterphania, Alexander."
"He doesn't deserve her."
Esterphania leaned back and smirked. "And what makes you think you can decide for me, brother?"
Alexander hissed at the title. He hated it. It rang false and dug under his skin like a splinter.
"Father," she continued, ignoring Alexander's glare, "I'll consider him."
Alexander stood so fast his chair screeched against the marble floor. He slammed a hand down on the table, rattling silverware.
"You wouldn't dare."
She met his gaze with defiance. "I'm not afraid of you."
"Enough!" the king roared, his voice laced with regal authority. "What has gotten into you, Alexander?"
Alexander simply huffed, his jaw clenched. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the hall, Melody quickly rising to follow him.
Esterphania didn't even flinch.
But deep within, the bond pulsed—hot, electric, undeniable.