The Alpha's Dark Solstice Claim

Chapter 15 - Lines we cross.

Marybeth

The bridge groaned softly beneath us, wood and steel holding more history than either of our packs liked to admit. Rowan hadn’t stepped back. Neither had I. The river below moved dark and steady, like it didn’t care that two rival Alphas were standing too close in the middle of neutral ground.

“I should have ended it years ago,” he said quietly. The words cut through the night air.

“Ended what?” I asked, even though I knew. I just needed to hear him say it out loud.

“My bond,” he replied. “With Seraphina.” I searched his face for hesitation. There wasn’t any. “It’s over,” he continued. “In everything but ritual.” My pulse stuttered.

“You’re sure?” I asked.

“Yes.” The certainty in his voice made something in my chest both ache and ignite. “She crossed a line when she touched Eli’s standing,” he said. “That wasn’t politics. That was personal.”

“And you?” I asked carefully. “Are you ending it because of what she did … or because of what you feel?” I was no longer the young girl that just jumped into something blindly. I needed more this time.

“Both.” His jaw tightened slightly. The honesty landed heavy between us.

“I won’t drag this out,” he continued. “I’ll break the bond formally. As soon as I can.” Breaking a bond wasn’t paperwork. It was ceremony. It was consequence. It was fracture.

“You know what that means,” I said.

“Yes.” He sighed.

“Your pack will split.” I wouldn’t say it out loud, but I was worried for him.

“Some of them,” he agreed.

“And mine will question whether I’ve compromised us.” I frowned. He stepped closer.

“You haven’t.” He breathed deeply as if breathing in my scent.

“You can’t promise that,” I said. “This isn’t just about us.”

“I know.” For a moment, we stood there with the weight of two legacies pressing against our ribs.

“We have to be careful,” I couldn’t believe I was saying it, but there it was.

“We will.” He smiled as if I had finally given him the green light after years of waiting.

“We can’t just announce we’re together,” I reiterated, so it would sink in.

“I’m not naïve.” He exhaled slowly.

“Are you sure?” I asked softly. This decision was going to change the landscape of our two packs forever. His mouth twitched faintly.

“You think I want to parade you through town?” he asked.

“I think you’ve wanted me in ways that weren’t strategic,” I laughed. I couldn’t resist. His hands tightened just slightly at my waist.

“Yes,” he said. Heat flushed through me.

“That’s exactly why we move slowly,” I continued. “If this turns into a spectacle, rival packs will exploit it. The town council will intervene. Humans will start asking questions we don’t want answered.” It felt strange to be the voice of reason this time.

“I won’t let that happen.” He smiled again. He was too confident and that scared me a little.

“This isn’t something you can dominate into silence,” I warned.

“You think I’d try?” A flicker of reluctant amusement crossed his face.

“Yes.” I sighed. He huffed softly.

“I’ll handle Blackridge internally,” he said. “You hold Calloway steady.”

“I don’t hold it steady,” I replied. “I lead it.”

“I know you do.” His eyes darkened. There was no challenge in his tone. Just respect.

“I’m not leaving my pack,” I added firmly. “I won’t merge territories. I won’t step down.”

“I don’t want you to,” he said immediately. The speed of his answer surprised me. “Calloway needs you,” he continued. “And Eli needs both legacies intact.” At the sound of my son’s name, reality settled again.

“Eli will choose,” I said quietly. Rowan’s expression shifted. “When he’s old enough,” I continued. “He’ll decide what he wants to do about Blackridge and Calloway. About leadership. About territory. We don’t make that choice for him.” A long pause. Then Rowan nodded.

“He’ll choose,” he agreed. “Not us.” The agreement felt bigger than any kiss. It was trust.

“And until then?” I asked.

“Until then,” he said, his voice steadying into Alpha cadence, “We normalize everything.”

“What does that mean?” My stomach tightened.

“It means Eli is going back to school,” Rowan frowned.

“Rowan …” I stiffened.

“He goes back,” he said firmly. “If we pull him now, it confirms instability. It gives her narrative weight.”

“She already has weight,” I snapped.

“And I’ll remove it,” he replied. “But we don’t hand it to her.” I hesitated. Every instinct screamed to pull Eli close, keep him where I could see him. Rowan saw it.

“I’ll oversee his training personally,” he said. “And I’ll audit every Blackridge instructor.”

“And Seraphina?” I asked.

“She won’t touch him.” The promise was absolute.

“You’re asking me to trust you,” I said.

“Yes.” Seven years ago, he had told me to forget. Tonight, he was asking me to trust. The difference was staggering. After a long moment, I nodded.

“He goes back,” I agreed. “But if there’s another incident …”

“There won’t be.” Something in the tone of his voice was dangerous.

“And if there is?” I pushed.

“Then it won’t be kept quiet.” His eyes hardened. The air shifted. Something had aligned between us that hadn’t existed before. Not secrecy. Not defiance. Partnership. For the first time since I was eighteen, we were speaking as equals.

The wind cut across the bridge sharply, and I realized how close we still were. Too close. Too intimate. My hands were still tangled in the front of his coat. His thumbs still resting against my ribs. We hadn’t moved.

“We should go,” I said softly.

“Yes.” Neither of us stepped back. His gaze dropped to my mouth. Not subtly. Not accidentally. “You said we had to be careful,” he murmured.

“We do.” My voice almost disappeared.

“That doesn’t mean we pretend.” The words brushed against my skin like heat.

“This changes everything,” I whispered.

“It already has.” There was no audience. No elders. No council. Just the river and the night and seven years of restraint straining thin.

“I won’t hide wanting you,” he said quietly. My breath caught.

“You’re impossible,” I whispered.

“And you still came back.” The reminder stung.

“I came back for my father,” I said.

“And stayed because of me.” The truth of that lingered. I didn’t deny it. His hand slid from my waist up my spine, slow and deliberate. Not rushed. Not reckless. Claiming nothing. Asking everything.

“Rowan,” I warned, though the warning had no strength behind it. His other hand cupped the back of my neck gently, thumb brushing just below my ear. The touch sent heat straight through me.

“If I do this,” he murmured, voice low and rougher than before, “it’s not strategy.”

“I know,” I whispered.

“It’s not politics,” he confirmed.

“I know,” I acknowledged, barely able to breathe.

“It’s because I never stopped …” The confession settled between us like a final lock turning. And then he kissed me. Not hurried. Not desperate. Deliberate. His mouth found mine like it already knew the shape of it.

Like it had been remembering for seven years. The first touch was almost restrained … testing. I answered without thinking. Without pride. Without fear. My hands tightened in his coat, pulling him closer.

The kiss deepened slowly, heat building with dangerous familiarity. His grip at my neck shifted, fingers threading into my hair. Possessive. But asking. The world tilted. For a moment, there was no rivalry. No packs. No bond waiting to be broken.

Just us. When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against mine, breath uneven.

“That won’t happen in public,” he said quietly.

“It can’t,” I agreed.

“But it will happen again.” He grinned.

“Yes.” The certainty in my own voice surprised me. We stepped apart slowly. Reluctantly. The river below kept moving.

“So, we move carefully,” he said.

“Carefully,” I echoed. He brushed his thumb once across my cheek … brief, grounding. Then he stepped back fully.

“I’ll handle Blackridge,” he said.

“I’ll hold Calloway,” I replied.

“And Eli?” He looked worried.

“He goes to school,” I said. Rowan nodded once. Then he turned and walked off the bridge. This time, I didn’t feel like I was being left behind. Because this time … He was coming back. A bargain had been struck that hadn’t been possible between our packs for goddess knew how long.

All it took was one night’s indiscretion …