Aiden didn't return home.
He didn't know where he was going—only that his paws kept moving, his breath shallow, his chest aching. The night air was sharp, but it couldn't numb the ache in his heart.
He passed trees he knew by scent alone, landmarks from childhood runs and secret moments. But tonight they were just blurs, like everything else in his life.
When he finally stopped, he was deep in the forest, standing by the old river where the moonlight spilled like silver across the water's surface. He shifted back slowly, the black fur receding, replaced by skin and trembling fingers. He crouched by the edge, his reflection distorted by the ripples.
"Why her..." he whispered. "Why not her?"
The bond had chosen.
But his heart hadn't caught up.
Behind him, a soft rustle. Aiden didn't look. He already knew who it was.
Theron.
He stepped forward, shirtless as always, his long white hair glowing faintly under the moon. He didn't speak—he didn't need to.
Aiden didn't move.
"You're hurt," Theron finally said, voice soft but certain. Aiden laughed without humor. "You don't say."
Theron walked closer, until only inches separated them. "The bond can't be severed. You know that."
"I don't want it," Aiden snapped, finally meeting his gaze. "I didn't choose this."
"I didn't either," Theron said quietly. His amber eyes were unreadable. They stood in silence, the air thick between them. Finally, Aiden looked away. "I loved her."
"And yet you came back to me."
Aiden clenched his fists. "Don't twist it."
Theron stepped closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "You stood before your pack, declared her yours—and still, your wolf calls to me. That wasn't just fate, Aiden. That was you."
Aiden looked at him then. Really looked. And the anger he tried to hold onto began to fade into something else. Something terrifying.
Because the truth was...Theron's voice had become a comfort.His presence, a gravity.And his scent...His scent now felt like home.
For a short moment, it was like Aiden's human mind had vanished—locked somewhere far, far away. What remained in his body was pure instinct. Pure wolf.
His eyes lost their edge, his breathing steadied, and his shoulders dipped. A low whine slipped past his lips as he took cautious steps toward Theron, tail tucked, ears pinned back in submission.
Theron didn't speak. He didn't have to. He simply extended a hand, open and calm, glowing faintly in the silver of the moonlight.
Aiden's wolf side pressed forward, brushing his head into Theron's palm. A soft sigh passed through Theron's nose—relief, maybe. Something warmer.
But then—A snap.A crack in the silence.
Aiden jerked back like he'd been burned, stumbling a few steps, shaking his head hard.
His lips curled in anger. His fists trembled.
"I hate you," he spat. "And the bond." His voice cracked on the last word.
Theron didn't flinch. He stood perfectly still, the moon catching on the edges of his white hair, his expression unreadable.
"I know," he said quietly. "But it doesn't change what we are."
Aiden turned away, his voice raw. "I wanted her. Not you. Why do you keep showing up?!"Theron took a step closer, but not enough to touch. "Because no matter how far you run, Aiden... your soul still finds its way back to mine."
Aiden didn't reply.
He just stood there, breathing hard, as the moonlight bore down on both of them—two wolves tangled in fate, longing, and denial.
Aiden stood frozen, the echo of Theron's words wrapping around him like chains. "Your soul still finds its way back to mine." His breath hitched. It was too much. Too close.
He turned away, eyes burning, fists clenched. Theron didn't chase him, didn't try to soothe him. He just watched, silently, letting the distance speak for them.
"I don't want this," Aiden said hoarsely, his back still to him. "I don't want to be bound to someone I barely know. Someone who—who stands in the way of what I wanted."
Silence.
Then, Theron finally spoke. "You think I asked for this?" That caught Aiden off guard. He turned, blinking, heart hammering.
"You think I chose this bond, Aiden? You think I looked down from the sky and decided to ruin your perfect life?"
Aiden flinched at the bitterness in Theron's voice.
"I've lived countless lifetimes alone," Theron continued, voice lower now. "And the first time I feel something—something real—it's with someone who hates me for simply existing."Aiden's chest tightened. His anger flickered. Then he snapped, "Then why don't you reject the bond?!"
"I can't," Theron said, stepping forward. "And neither can you."
They stood there, only inches apart now. The heat between them wasn't just anger anymore—it was grief, confusion... desire, buried deep under fear.Aiden's breathing was ragged. "I hate that you're right."Theron's gaze softened. "I know."
Aiden looked up at him, vulnerable for just a second. "Then tell me what to do. Because I'm falling apart."
Theron didn't answer with words. Instead, he gently raised his hand again—but this time slower, waiting for permission.
Aiden didn't move.
When Theron's fingers brushed his cheek, Aiden didn't flinch. But he did whisper, trembling, "Don't make me choose you."
"You don't have to," Theron murmured. "Just don't keep running."
The moon above them cast long shadows through the trees. And for the first time... Aiden didn't run.