Updated Jan 5, 2026 • ~5 min read
POV: Rory
The package arrived at Morgana’s door two days later.
Plain box. No return address. Just my name written in elegant script.
“Don’t open it,” Morgana warned. “Could be from the pack. Could be dangerous.”
But curiosity won. I opened it carefully.
Inside: a beautiful tea set. Porcelain. Hand-painted with forest scenes. And a note:
For the new mate of Darkwood. May your bond bring peace between our peoples. – A Friend
“That’s either genuine or the most obvious trap ever,” Morgana said.
“I’m going with trap.”
But the tea smelled amazing. Herbal. Soothing. Exactly what I needed after days of stress and bond-pain.
“Don’t drink it,” Fen said when I showed him. He’d started visiting daily. Rebuilding trust through consistent presence and respect for boundaries. “Unknown origin. Could be poisoned.”
“It says it’s from a friend.”
“Friends identify themselves. This is anonymous. That’s suspicious.”
He was probably right. But the tea called to me. My wolf wanted it. Craved it.
Which should have been warning enough.
That night, alone at Morgana’s while she was at the bookstore, I made the tea.
Just one cup. To test it. If it was fine, great. If not, better to find out now.
The first sip was heaven. Chamomile and something else. Lavender maybe. Instantly soothing. The bond-ache faded. Stress melted away.
I drank the whole cup.
Ten minutes later, pain hit.
Not normal pain. Burning. From the inside out. Like my blood was acid. My organs shutting down.
I tried to call for help. Couldn’t. Throat closing. Lungs not working properly.
Poison. Wolf-specific poison.
I collapsed. Reached for my phone. Managed to text Fen:
help poisoned
Then everything went black.
I woke to Fen’s face above me. Desperate. Terrified.
“Stay with me,” he was saying. “Rory, stay with me. Don’t you dare die on me.”
“What—”
“Wolfsbane. Mixed with silver. Specifically designed to kill wolves by severing mate bonds.” His hands glowed with magic. Healing magic I didn’t know he had. “It’s killing you. Slowly. Painfully. I need to draw it out.”
“How?”
“Magic. Blood. Ancient healing rituals I learned over three centuries.” He bit his wrist. Offered it to me. “Drink. My blood will neutralize the poison. Bond magic amplifies healing between mates.”
I drank. His blood tasted like copper and wild magic. The bond flared. Power flooded my system.
The poison fought back. Burning. Tearing. Trying to sever the bond and kill me in the process.
But Fen’s blood was stronger. Ancient. Powerful. Cursed immortal blood that couldn’t be killed.
Slowly, the poison burned away. My organs started functioning. Breathing became easier.
“There,” Fen whispered. “There. You’re okay. You’re going to be okay.”
I passed out again. This time from exhaustion rather than poison.
Woke in Fen’s cabin. Sun streaming through windows. My body ached but alive.
Fen sat beside the bed. He looked terrible. Hadn’t slept. Hands still stained with my blood.
“How long?” I asked.
“Two days. You’ve been unconscious two days. Your body fighting the poison. I’ve been feeding you my blood every few hours. Keeping the poison from killing you.”
“Who sent it?”
“Pack sympathizers. Wolves who oppose our bond. Who want you dead before you can break my curse and give rogues hope.” His voice was cold. Dangerous. “I found them. The ones who sent the poisoned tea. They won’t be sending anything again.”
“Did you kill them?”
“Yes.” No hesitation. No remorse. “They tried to murder my mate. That’s a death sentence. I executed it.”
I should have been horrified. Should have condemned the violence.
But my wolf purred approval. Mate protecting. Defending. Ensuring threats were eliminated.
“I’m becoming one of you,” I said. “The old me would have been horrified by killing. Now I’m just—grateful they’re dead. That’s terrifying.”
“That’s survival. That’s accepting what you are. Wolves aren’t pacifists. We protect our own. Sometimes violently.”
“Is this what my life will be? Constant attacks? People trying to kill me?”
“Until we eliminate the threats or prove ourselves too dangerous to target. Yes.” He took my hand carefully. “I won’t lie and say it gets easier. But Rory—I’ll protect you. Every threat. Every danger. I’ll destroy anyone who tries to hurt you.”
“That’s not sustainable. You can’t kill everyone who opposes us.”
“Watch me.”
The darkness in his voice should have scared me. Should have made me question whether this life was worth living.
But the bond hummed approval. Because he was mine. And he’d move mountains to keep me safe.
“We need a better plan,” I said. “One that doesn’t involve you murdering half the wolf population.”
“I’m open to suggestions.”
“Break the curse. Prove that rogues aren’t abominations. Build alliances with wolves who support change. Show them we’re not the enemy.”
“That requires you choosing me. Fully. Breaking the curse by accepting everything I am.”
“I know.”
“Are you ready for that?”
“I’m getting there. The marking—that still hurts. But Fen, you saved my life. Again. And you’re trying. Really trying to be better. To respect my boundaries. That matters.”
“It’s the bare minimum.”
“For you. For a lot of people, it wouldn’t be.” I squeezed his hand. “Thank you. For saving me. For not letting me die.”
“I’ll always save you. Even when you’re furious at me. Even when you hate me. You’re mine. I protect what’s mine.”
Possessive. Dangerous. Obsessive.
And somehow, exactly what I needed.
Because the world was trying to kill me. And having someone willing to kill back made survival possible.
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