Bound to the Alpha.

II. The Arrival.

The road twists and turns as we make our way through town, and with each bend, I feel further and further out of place. I'm like a puzzle piece that doesn't quite fit in this world of werewolves and primal forms.

The marking ceremony is the pinnacle of our pack's social calendar. It's where the bonds of family and friendship are reinforced, and new alliances are formed. But tonight's marking ceremony is more than a community gathering; it's a pivotal event that might see the Blythes descend upon us, turning our modest celebration into a courtly affair.

The Blythes, a once cohesive powerhouse, are now fragmented, their members locked in bitter disputes over territories and authority. These conflicts, fierce and private, have torn the family into rival factions, each guarding its power jealously against the others.

Among them, Everest Blythe stands out—a rogue who has forsaken the vast legacy of his family to forge a darker, more powerful pack of his own. Rejecting the old treaties with humans and skin-walkers, he aims to expand his reign with ambitions so bold they are considered forbidden. Under his command, his pack is not just growing; it is becoming more ferocious, driven by a blood-thirst that is whispered about with dread and admiration. 

Despite his reputation of a blood-thirsty rogue, I'm curious to see him, to see the Blythes. There's a part of me that wonders if Everest will find a mate tonight. The drive to form a mate bond is deeply ingrained in our nature, a primal instinct that not even the wildest of us can fully escape.

But despite the excitement in the air, the pain of Reid's rejection overshadows my thoughts. Memories of our childhood friendship surface, back when life was simpler, and our futures seemed intertwined. Reid and I had shared countless adventures, our laughter echoing through the woods. But everything changed when his father passed, thrusting him into the role of Alpha at just fifteen. The following year, his wolf manifested, marking him as a true leader, while at twenty, my own primal form remains frustratingly dormant. This shift in our paths created a rift between us, one that widened with each passing year.

Determined to push through and make the most of the night, I take a deep breath and steel myself for what's to come.

As we step out of the car onto the forest floor, the beauty that surrounds us leaves us awestruck. 

Towering trees encircle the clearing, creating a natural canopy overhead, and twinkling lights strung between the branches cast a warm and welcoming glow over the area.

Sage takes a deep breath, closing her eyes and inhaling the refreshing forest air. "I love the smell of the forest at night," she says, her voice echoing through the peaceful silence.

"I know, right?" Aurora agrees, "it feels like we're in a different world."

As we walk towards the center, I can see that it's already filled with packs from all over the state. 

I spot the Redwood pack, known for their strength in battle, and the Moonlight pack, whose members are rumored to have the gift of foresight. I can also spot a few lone wolves, looking for a pack to join or simply attending the ceremony as spectators.

Despite the festive atmosphere, there's an underlying tension in the air. The presence of the powerful Blythes has put everyone on edge, and there are whispers of potential conflicts and power struggles. I can see the Alphas from different packs exchanging glances, sizing each other up, and subtly posturing for dominance.

Our father leads the way, his tall form towering over the other werewolves as we make our way towards our designated area. We follow closely behind him, the anticipation of the marking ceremony thick in the air.