The Cursed Alpha’s Mute Bride Episode 5

📖 The Story Continues

The Cursed Alpha’s Mute Bride – Episode 5

Wren ran until branches blurred and every breath scraped her cursed throat. Hunter’s coat streamed behind her, far too large for her frame, carrying pine and smoke with each stride. She should have dropped it before crossing the border, yet she clutched the collar closed as though the garment were the only safe thing in the forest.

One word followed her through the dark: mate. Hunter had spoken it softly, but she had watched certainty transform his face. Wolves did not mistake a fated bond, the Moon Goddess’s most sacred connection, yet destiny choosing her felt like an error too cruel to believe.

No one had ever looked at Wren as Hunter had, without treating silence as proof that she mattered less. No one had held her injured wrist with care or waited patiently for an answer she could not speak. His kindness should have eased her, but it opened a painful place where hope tried to grow.

Hope was dangerous in Wolfhart Castle. Gertrude had taught her that anything precious could become another weapon. Wren crossed into Eclipse territory without slowing, leaving behind the Alpha who protected her and running toward the family that had deliberately placed her in danger.

How could Hunter Silver be destined for someone like her? He ruled one of the strongest packs in the region, while she slept beside a kitchen, wore discarded dresses, and could not reach the wolf buried beneath Gertrude’s curse. Once the shock faded, surely he would see the burden everyone else saw.

The bond might have been damaged by the spell, or perhaps violence had confused Hunter’s protective instincts. Wren repeated those explanations until the warmth beneath her ribs pulsed in disagreement. Deeper still, the presence that stirred near the creek shifted behind its locked door, listening for the man she had left.

Wren stopped beneath an old oak and pressed one hand against its trunk. If her wolf had truly responded, the mate bond was no mistake. It might even reach what Gertrude had sealed away, but that possibility frightened her more than hopelessness ever had.

The curse could be broken only by true love and the words I love you. A mate bond could draw Hunter toward her, but fate was not love, and no sacred connection could force a man to cherish the woman chosen for him. She imagined disappointment replacing the gentleness in his silver eyes.

Voices sounded from the direction of Wolfhart Castle, perhaps searchers looking for Nikolaus. Wren gathered Hunter’s coat around her and took a narrow servants’ path. She did not realize that wearing an enemy Alpha’s crest into the engagement hall would make Nikolaus’s lie harder to protect.

Back beside the creek, Hunter watched the trees where she had disappeared. The bond stretched toward the border, delicate but unmistakable, urging him to follow. Years of command were the only reason he remained still rather than turning rescue into another pursuit Wren had not chosen.

Clay returned after confirming the Eclipse wolves had left Silver territory. He found his Alpha staring into the forest with an expression unfamiliar after any battle. “Who was she?” he asked, though Hunter had barely seemed capable of seeing anyone else once he entered the clearing.

Near the bank lay a crushed piece of sugar, probably caught in Wren’s clothes after the feast. Hunter lifted it, and vanilla, caramel, and warm flour rose above the damp earth. Clay tested the strange sweetness in the air. “What is that smell?”

“Cake.” The corner of Hunter’s mouth almost became a smile. The detail was absurd after an attack, yet the scent belonged to her and softened the beast beneath his skin. That reaction carried a significance Clay could not yet understand.

Hunter had lived under his own curse for years. Every shift brought the risk that savage power would overwhelm the man, leaving Clay with the duty of killing his Alpha. He had consulted healers and witches across the mountains, but every answer remained the same: strength could not break the spell.

Only the mate chosen by the Moon Goddess might possess the power to free him. Hunter had stopped expecting her to exist because hope made every full moon more bitter. Then a frightened woman with courageous gray eyes had raised a broken branch against three wolves in his territory.

At the first breath of Wren’s scent, the violence inside Hunter had quieted. It had not disappeared, but it became watchful and fiercely protective. Wren Wolfhart was not merely his mate; she might be the key to the curse that threatened to consume him.

Clay studied the realization settling over his Alpha. Hunter remembered the letters Wren traced against her palm and the fear that followed the bond’s recognition. Whatever life she knew at Wolfhart Castle had trained her to flee kindness, and the condition of her clothes suggested neglect no Alpha’s daughter should endure.

“Do you want scouts to bring her back?” Clay asked. Hunter refused immediately. Wren had already been surrounded by men who ignored her choice. If he wanted her trust, he would begin by respecting her decision even when every instinct demanded he close the distance.

Older laws offered another path. Hunter would approach Wolfhart Castle openly and claim the right to court his mate before both packs. “Prepare the engagement gifts,” he ordered. Clay stared in shock, then asked how many carts the formal offering required.

“Enough that no one in Wolfhart Castle can pretend she is unwanted.” Hope entered Hunter’s eyes after years without it. “Wren Wolfhart is my mate.” By dawn, the family that had called her worthless would receive an Alpha’s proposal—and Gertrude would learn that the curse she created was no longer safe.