Bound by Moonlight

Bound by Moonlight

Daniel

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I'm Andrew Johnson, a wolf scarred by a broken bond with Sophia, who betrayed me for Daniel. As I heal with Stella's fierce love, Sophia's regret and Daniel's vengeance collide, threatening my newfound peace. Through pain and redemption, I find strength in Stella's devotion, forging a new bond under the moonlight, determined to leave the past behind and embrace a future filled with hope.

Chapter 1 Chapter 1

I'm Andrew Johnson, and I've got this thing-skin hunger, they call it. A deep, aching need to be touched, to feel someone close. But my mate, Sophia Lewis? She's a she-wolf with a germ phobia so intense it's like she's allergic to me.

I brush her arm, and she's scrubbing her hands raw with half a bottle of sanitizer.

I steal a kiss, and she's brushing her teeth for ten minutes straight, like I'm some kind of walking biohazard.

One night, I tried playing drunk, stumbling into her bed, hoping for a crack in her icy walls. Big mistake. She kicked me out-me and the whole damn bedding set-tossing us like yesterday's trash. Standing over me, her eyes cold as a winter moon, she sneered, "What, you that desperate?"

Her words hit like a slap, sharp and stinging, leaving me shaking.

Three years we've been bound, and I've tried everything-every trick, every gesture-to get through to her. She's a mountain, unyielding. The lowest point? Sneaking her worn clothes from the laundry, clutching them like some creep just to feel close to her. Pathetic, right?

I was done. Defeated. I slunk to my study, printed the bond-breaking papers I'd had ready for weeks, and steeled myself to find her in the guest room to sign them. But then I saw her slip out of her bedroom, heading straight for her workshop at the end of the hall.

Sophia used to be a sculptor before she took over her family's empire. That workshop is her sanctuary, where she spends most of her time. Even our binding night-our so-called sacred bond-she spent it in there, carving away. That room's her fortress, off-limits to everyone. Including me, her mate. I'd ask about it, just curious, and her face would frost over faster than a windshield in a blizzard. I learned to steer clear, not wanting to upset her.

But now? With the bond-breaking papers in my hand? Screw it. I had to know what held her so tightly.

I crept after her, silent as a shadow. Peeking through the crack in the door, my jaw dropped. I bit my hand to stifle a gasp.

The workshop was lined with sculptures, each draped in red silk, their shapes hidden. Sophia stood before one, life-sized, her face flushed with a shy, hungry look I'd never seen. She leaned in, kissing the air where the statue's lips would be, her body swaying, pressing against it. Her voice, usually sharp and cold, was soft, dripping with desire.

"Daniel." she whispered, over and over. "I want you. I need you."

The silk slipped, revealing the face of the sculpture. I knew it instantly-Daniel Chase, her sister's mate.

My heart shattered. All this time, I thought she was just wired different, too clean, too closed-off. But no. Her passion, her fire-it was all for him, the wolf she could never have.

I couldn't watch anymore. Clutching the papers, I stumbled away, her low moans echoing in my ears. She stayed in there all night. I sat on the couch downstairs, staring into nothing, the papers crumpled in my fist.

Morning came. Sophia rushed downstairs, barely glancing at me. "I'm heading to the old den," she said, her voice flat.

The old den. Where Daniel lives. It all clicked-why she was always running back there.

My eyes burned, red and swollen. I forced a bitter smile. "Sophia, hold up." I handed her the papers. "Sign this."

She paused, frowning, about to flip through them when her phone rang. Without even reading, she grabbed a pen, scrawled her name, and wrinkled her nose at the tear stains smudging my signature. Then, wiping her hands with a sanitizing wipe, she bolted out the door.

I stared at her back as she left, tears streaming down my face, crumpling the papers further. I drove straight to the pack's family court. The clerk handed me a receipt, saying, "Thirty days cooling-off period, then you can pick up the final papers."

I nodded, eyes stinging. Thirty days, and I'd set her free.

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