Chapter 5: The Mate Bond

Cyrus's POV

Since entering, I'd been aware of Maeve's presence across the crowded room, though I forced myself to look elsewhere. She laughed at her friend's remark, head tilted back, the graceful curve of her throat visible in my peripheral vision.

But now, I finally allowed my gaze to seek hers directly, no longer fighting the pull she exerted on me.

She stood wearing a gorgeous silver gown with blue chiffon overlay, the delicate fabric catching the light with every movement. Her golden curls were adorned with a delicate silver crown that glinted among her tresses.

"She's beautiful," Dean whispered inside my mind, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

I couldn't focus on anything else but her colorful eyes meeting mine, carrying an unspoken current that had been building since our first encounter.

The intensity of the connection unsettled me, stirring memories I'd tried to bury. My mind drifted back to our first meeting in the academy hallway just days ago.

...

That day, I had been walking down the corridor, heading to check the training arenas before my afternoon class, when she appeared from nowhere. Without warning, the golden-haired stranger stepped into my path, reached up to grasp my neck, and pressed her lips against mine.

Her scent hit me first—wild jasmine, with something ancient underneath that made Dean stir. Her lips were soft yet insistent, carrying a determination that caught me off guard.

I'd encountered beautiful women before, but something about her was different. It wasn't just her stunning features, but the way she carried herself—a rare mixture of vulnerability and strength.

The shock paralyzed me—not just from the unexpected kiss, but her golden eyes that I glimpsed before closing mine had turned brown when I opened them again.

Those color-shifting eyes haunted me, painfully reminiscent of my mother's.

Fourteen years had passed since that night when my mother woke me in our small cabin at the edge of the flow watchers territory.

"Your father is gone," she had said, her voice trembling.

"What?" I had asked, still groggy from sleep, not fully comprehending her words or the emotions on her face.

"Alpha Dominic is dead," she had repeated, her colorful eyes glistening with tears.

I remembered sitting up in bed then, suddenly wide awake.

What confused me wasn't my father's death—the man who had abandoned my pregnant mother, forced her to flee from his hunters, and condemned us to hide in the rogue territories—but my mother's expression. Relief and sorrow battled on her face, telling a story more complex than simple grief.

"You are the only one who carries his bloodline," she had continued, her hands gripping mine tightly. "Someone is coming to take you. You must go with him to become Alpha of the Kratos pack."

The panic that gripped me then still felt fresh in my memory. "What? I can't leave you!" I had exclaimed.

She had embraced me fiercely, her tears wetting my hair. "I cannot go with you, Cyrus. My place is here, with the other Callisto wolves. And yours is there. You will be a great Alpha. Better than your father ever was."

That night, she had told me things I had never known—how my father had hunted Callisto wolves, not just out of fear, but because they were the most powerful wolves in existence, possessing special abilities that made them both coveted and feared.

"But you can make things better," she had insisted, her colorful eyes bright with conviction. "You can bring them into the light. You can grow stronger than your father ever was. You can protect Callisto wolves like me."

I had made a promise then, clutching her hands in mine. "I won't let you down. When I'm a real Alpha, I'll come back for you. I'll punish those who hunt Callisto wolves until Morpheus is safe again."

As soon as I became the Alpha of the Kratos pack, I started hearing rumors about my father—things I had never heard before, things I don't even think my mother knew.

His death had been connected to his love for a Callisto wolf. It was a weakness that had ultimately destroyed the most powerful Alpha in existence.

Since then, I had sworn never to repeat his mistake. Never to allow love to weaken me. Especially not love for a Callisto wolf.

The position as Combat Training professor had been Maeve's father, Alpha Rodolfo's idea. I recalled our conversation after the Alliance meeting just days before I met Maeve.

"I really appreciate what you do for the Alliance," Rodolfo had said, following me into the hallway after the others had left. "I know teaching isn't your forte, but I think it might be good for you."

"I'm grateful for the chance," I had replied, and in some ways, I meant it. "Honestly, it might not be so bad."

Rodolfo had patted my shoulder lightly. "You might even enjoy it. I can't think of anyone better suited for the job. I see great things ahead for you, Cyrus."

Great things. The same words my mother had used. I didn't want to disappoint either of them.

But accepting the teaching position was more than just a career move—it was another step toward fulfilling my promise to my mother. The higher I climbed, the more influence I would have to change the system that had once persecuted her people.

I couldn't afford distractions. I couldn't afford weakness. And I certainly couldn't afford to follow in my father's footsteps.

Yet from the moment I saw Maeve in that hallway, something changed completely inside me.

I had spent fourteen years avoiding my father's fate, denying my own needs and desires, yet here I stood, drawn to a Callisto wolf just as he had been. If I continued on this path—

"Cyrus, I feel it - she is our mate," Dean's voice interrupted my thoughts with sudden clarity.

My body froze, muscles tensing.

The words I'd feared most had finally been spoken. Shit.