Bonds

-Alex's POV-

Let out an irritated sigh before moving towards Miranda. Amaya was already gone, whisked away by Natalia who looked like she was about to erupt Eke a volcano, Miranda was still sprawled on the floor, clutching her face and letting out a string of very undignified s o b s. The bartender woman who had been at Amaya's side, was staring wide-eyed at the scene.

"Please sir," she squeaked, "You two need to leave. Now."

I shot her a glare that instantly clamped her mouth shut. She took a nervous step back, her eyes darting between me and the whimpering mess on the floor. Reaching down, I grabbed Miranda's arm, intending to help her up.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, slapping my hand away with surprising force. The entire bar had fallen silent, everyone's attention focused on the unfolding drama. The air c**d with tension, thick with the scent of stale beer and the uncomfortable silence that followed Miranda's outburst. It was starting to grate on my nerves.

"Enough of this," 1 growled, my voice low and dangerous. "Get up right now. You're making a scene and starting to irritate me. A lot."

My words seemed to have the desired effect. Miranda, perhaps sensing the shift in atmosphere, finally stopped her sobbing fit. Sniffling back tears, she scrambled to her feet, grabbing her purse with one hand and wiping at her red-rimmed eyes with the other. Without a word, she stalked towards the exit, her shoulders hunched as if trying to shrink away from the curious stares of the patrons.

I followed close behind, casting a final look around the bar. Every head was still turned, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and morbid curiosity. With a m**I groan, I sent a quick text message to Christian, outlining the situation and asking him to deal with any potential fallout. There would definitely be questions in the morning, and Christian, with his talent for smooth-talking and discreet intimidation, was the best person to handle them.

Stepping out into the cool night air, I closed the door to the bar behind me with a heavy thud. The street was quiet, a stark contrast to the chaos I had just left behind. Taking a deep breath, I let out a long sigh, the tension slowly draining from my shoulders. This whole night had been a mess, from the surprise encounter with Amaya to the brawl with Miranda. I just wanted to go home, crawl into bed, and forget the entire evening ever happened.

But she would not let me. As if she suddenly felt my presence, she stopped walking, turning around to face me, "This is all your fault, you know," she hissed.

I grunted noncommittally, focusing on the flickering streetlight overhead.

She continued, her voice rising with each word, "You just stood there like a statue while that... that she-wolf attacked me!"

"You weren't exactly playing saint, Miranda," I finally interjected, my voice flat and devoid of any emotion. It felt easier that way, a shield against the chaos of the night.Material © NôvelDrama.Org.

"A saint?" she scoffed, throwing her hands up in the air. "She's the one who lunged at me like a rabid dog! All because of some s**d remark I made. And you just watched!"

"You were provoking her," I pointed out, my tone even, almost bored. The truth was, the whole fight had happened so fast it was a blur. But I wasn't about to admit that to her.

"Oh, so now I'm the bad guy?" she shrieked, "You k know what? Maybe you were happy to see Amaya humiliate me like that. Maybe that's why you didn't even try to stop her!"

I finally gave her my attention, a flicker of annoyance crossing my features despite my best efforts. "Here we go again with the conspiracy theories, Miranda. It's getting old."

"Conspiracy theories?" she threw her hands up in the air, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Is that what you call it? Come on, Alex, give me some credit."

Frustration bubbled over in me. She just wouldn't let it go. I don't know what your problem is, Miranda," I said, my voice tight. "But something definitely is wrong with you. You asked me to come here, Why were you even herd in the first place? Were you following her?"

She scoffed, her arms crossed defensively. "Following her? Don't be ridiculous, had no idea the would be here. It's a small city and I came here to meet a friend from work."

"You wish you had any friends," I remarked drily. All I wanted was to get away from the drama and get some sleep.

I

"Whatever," she said, dismissively. "The point is, I wasn't following anyone. Unlike you, apparently." Her voice dripped with accusation.

"Unlike me what?" I challenged, narrowing my eyes.

"Don't play dumb. We both know you have a thing for Amaya still. No matter how much you pretend like you don't."

I clenched my jaw, anger starting to simmer beneath the surface. "I don't have a thing for her. I told you before, she is a thing of the past." I growled, forcing the words through gritted teeth.

"oh, come on. Look at your face! You were practically glowing when you saw her. Still hopelessly in love with the girl who broke y your heart."

"She didn't break my heart, Miranda," I snapped. "And you have no idea what happened between us so shut up about it."

"Yeah, right. That's what they all say. But the truth is, you're still hung up on her. And no matter what you do, she's never going to take you back. She's with my brother now. You lost your chance."

Her words hit a nerve, a raw vulnerability I desperately tried to keep hidden. Silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating Miranda seemed to take my silence as acceptance, a cruel smile twisting her lips.

"Look at us, Alex," she said, her voice softening slightly. "Two lost souls, pining after what we can't have. Maybe that's why we work so well together. We understand each other."

There was a strange glint in her eyes, a hint of something more than sympathy.

My gut clenched, a primal instinct warning me to take a step back. But before I could move, she was on me, her arms wrapping around my neck, her body pressing close.

"Miranda," I started to pull away, but she held me tight.

"Don't," she whispered, her voice husky. "Just stay with me for a while. Forget about Amaya. Forget about everything else. Just us, here and now."

The heat of her body pressed against mine, the desperation in her voice... for a moment, I faltered. The loneliness that had been gnawing at me for so long threatened to consume me.

But then, a vision of Amaya's face flashed in my mind. "Miranda, stop it," I growled, pushing her away. She stumbled back, a look of shock and hurt on her face. "You haven't f**d me since she came back into the picture. I know you, Alex. I know your wolf wants it. You have been starved for so long and I know you aren't f**g anyone else"

My voice was flat, "No, I don't"

Her face hardened, the vulnerability replaced by a cold anger that mirrored my own. "Fine," she spat. "Then what do you want? She's gone. Get over it!" Her words were cruel, a deliberate jab at my deepest insecurities. I felt a surge of anger rise within me, hot and primal. "Shut up, Miranda!" I roared, my voice laced with a dangerous edge.

She flinched at my outburst, but then squared her shoulders, defiance flickering in her eyes. "What will you do if I don't?" she challenged, her voice trembling slightly.

The air c a c kle d with tension. In that moment, the world around us seemed to fade away. The anger that had been simmering beneath the surface for the entire night boiled over. My vision narrowed, focusing solely on Miranda's face, flushed with defiance and a hint of something... else. A primal instinct, raw and unfamiliar, surged through me. It was a hunger, a need to overpower, to silence. Before I could even process what was happening, my body moved on its own.

With a speed that surprised even me, I lunged forward, grabbing her upper arms.

Her gasp of surprise was cut short as I pulled her roughly against me The heat of her body sent a jolt through me, but it was quickly overshadowed by the burning intensity of my own emotions.

"Shut. Up," I growled, the words a low rumble in my chest. My voice wasn't mine anymore, it was deeper, rougher, laced with a pots i didn't recognize.

Her eyes widened in shock. Her bravado seemed to falter under the intensity of my gaze. For a terrifying moment, I just held her there, the primal urge to dominate warring with a sliver of reason clinging to the edges of my mind. Her scent, a mix of perfume and sonsething distinctly hers, filled my senses, igniting a confusing c o k ail of desire and aggression.

Then, as abruptly as it began, the urge shifted. The row hunger inorphed into something more... urgent. Without any conscious thought, I leaned down, my lips crushing against hers.

"You got what you wanted, didn't you?" I said finally, niy tone dry. "I gave you an as m you have been practically begging for. Now, if you're done with your dramatic performance, get in your car. The last thing I need is for someone to attack you again and then have to deal with your annoying pack breathing down my neck."

She remained rooted to the spot, her gaze locked on mine. But the defiance that had flickered in her eyes earlier was replaced by a burning hatred so intense I could pra t ally feel the heat radiating off her

"You are a horrible person, Alex, she spat, her voice laced with venom. A ghost of a smile played on my lips. "Maybe," I conceded, my voice devaid of any real emotion. "But aren't we both horrible people, Miranda? You were the one who practically dragged me to that bar knowing Amaya would be there, just to stir up trouble. That's why you and I are stuck with each other. Two horrible people on common ground,"

My nonchalant shrug did little to quell the fire in her eyes. "You think this is some kind of game? A twisted joke? You messed with the wrong person tonight. You may not care about the consequences, but I do." "Consequences?" I echoed, raising an eyebrow in feigned surprise. "What consequences could you possibly throw at me? You gonna tell everyone about the little bar brawl you instigated?"

A cruel smile twisted her lips. "No. I am going to tell Ivan. Everything." My bored facade flickered for a moment, a flicker of something sharp and dangerous replacing it. "And what exactly are you planning to tell him?"

"Everything," she repeated, her voice gaining a manic edge. "About you and Amaya. About your little history. I'll tell him about your marriage. Let's see how that perfect, peaceful life Amaya's trying to build with my brother crumbles when he finds out he is getting leftovers."

For a moment, I simply stared at her, the weight of her words settling on me. I hated threats and something inside me snapped. The boredom, the irritation, all of it melted away, replaced by fury. Before I could even think, my hands were around her throat.

"I have warned you before. You will not breathe a word of this to anyone. Do you understand?"

Her eyes widened in terror, her face turning a sickly shade of purple. Her bravado completely gone, she could only gasp for air, her hands clawing uselessly at mine.

Despite the raw anger coursing through me, a sliver of reason remained. I knew I couldn't strangle her here even though I badly wanted to. But the message needed to be clear.

With a final, bone-chilling growl, I released my grip. She stumbled back, gasping for breath. "Do I make myself clear?" I asked, my voice calmer now, but laced with an icy menace that brooked no argument. She could only manage a weak nod, her chest heaving with each ragged breath. "Stay away from her. I won't warn you again."

With that, I turned and walked away, leaving her standing there alone in the darkness, the weight of my threat hanging heavy in the air. Reaching my car, I inserted my keys. Just as my fingers brushed against the cool metal of the handle, a shift occurred within me, subtle but undeniable.

"Stalking me now?" I said, my voice rough around the edges. I hadn't turned around, but I could practically feel the amusement radiating from the person behind me.

"That was quite the scene there, Alex," the voice drawled, smooth as silk and laced with a hint of something else - maybe amusement, maybe something darker.

Slowly, I turned, my movements measured and deliberate. Standing a few feet away was Christian, his face bathed in the dim glow of the streetlight. He was undeniably handsome, with sharp features and O

om eyes that seemed to hold a thousand secrets. But unlike most handsome men, there was no warmth in his good looks. Instead, an aura of danger clung to him, a subtle threat that sent shivers down the spines of those who dared to look him in the eye for too long.

He had a darkness in him. That was why I liked him.