Page 44 of Bound to Exiles (Rejected Wolf Pack #5)

Zak

The scent of evergreens filled my nostrils as I stood naked before Freya, my heart hammering against my ribs. I’d spent years burying my wolf so deep I’d convinced myself he was dead. Now I was supposed to just… let him out?

“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, hating the tremor in my voice.

Freya’s eyes held nothing but confidence as she reached for my hands. “You can. We can.”

The warmth of her fingers against mine sent a current of energy through my body. Since teaching her how to access my magic through the Bonded link, I felt her presence more intensely — not just her emotions, but her magic too, vibrant and wild compared to my cold and controlled magic.

“Close your eyes,” she instructed. “I want to try something.”

I obeyed, letting my eyelids fall shut. With a deep breath, I focused on the sensation of Freya’s hands in mine.

“I’m going to draw on your mage magic first as I look for your shifter magic,” she explained.

Because witches liked to think of themselves as so different from shifters, I rarely thought of shifting as, well, magic.

But Freya was right — it was. It might not be like the spells I was trained to use back in the Ravenscroft Coven, and shifting might be more innate and instinctual, but it was still a form of magic.

It reminded me of something Preston had once told me: “Witches like to think our magic is different, but the two are more similar than most will admit.”

I was eight, sitting cross-legged on the forest floor with Preston beside me. The moon hung full and heavy above us, its light filtering through the pine branches.

“Can you feel Grandmother Moon calling to your wolf?” Preston asked, his deep blue eyes kind in the silvery moonlight.

I’d nodded, even though I’d been too young yet to truly know my other side.

“One day, when you’re a teenager, you’ll be able to shift, Zakaib. And when that time comes, you must remember that your wolf is not separate from you — he is you.”

“But the coven says—”

“Don’t worry about that.” Preston’s hand rested on my shoulder. “They want you to choose, to be either witch or wolf. But you don’t have to choose. You are both. That’s your birthright.”

“What if my wolf is too wild and uncontrollable like they always say?” I asked.

“Don’t think of it like control,” Preston corrected. “Instead, trust him. Like you trust yourself.”

Only a few months later, Preston had fled the coven to avoid the arranged Bonding the coven wanted to force on him.

I stayed behind to distract them. My first shift happened in secret at the age of fifteen, and I’d kept Preston’s words in mind as my wolf emerged.

I liked to think that his teachings made my first time shifting easier, but I had no comparison.

At the time, I’d never even met a wolf shifter, aside from the mother I could only vaguely remember.

A gentle tug brought me back to the present. It started at my center, where I’d learned my magic resided from my very first lessons with Preston. It wasn’t unpleasant — more like the feeling of a tide going out, leaving space behind .

“Now I’m reaching for the others,” she murmured. “For their strength.”

Through the Bonded link, I sensed her stretching out, touching the steady bedrock of Gage’s presence, the flowing power of Heath, Flint’s enduring patience, and Rowan’s untamed chaos. She was weaving them together, creating a braid of shared energy that stretched between her and me.

My heart swelled with pride for my beautiful student, already adapting the technique I’d taught her just hours ago.

“I see it,” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder. “The magic that holds your wolf. There’s something binding him, though. Like… threads of magic woven around your wolf.”

My eyes flew open. “Suppression.”

A few members of the coven had performed the “calming ritual” after repeatedly catching me shifting without permission. They’d explained it was to help control my “wolf urges,” but I’d known even then what it really was — a cage.

By then, at age eighteen, I’d learned it was better to compromise than to argue when it came to my wolf. I’d been punished every time they caught me shifting, but this time was different. They wanted a more permanent solution.

My ego told me I could learn how to undo their spell later, but my attempts as a solo witch were nothing compared to the Bonded circle’s power. Only when I’d left Vancouver had I started to feel the suppression magic loosening around my wolf.

“I can unravel it,” Freya said, her gaze focused on something I couldn’t see. “But it might hurt.”

“Do it,” I said without hesitation.

She nodded, then closed her eyes again. I felt her magic probe deeper, touching the barrier between my human and wolf forms. The sensation burned like acid, and I bit back a cry.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her face contorted with concentration. “I’m trying to be gentle.”

“Don’t be gentle,” I ground out. “Just be quick.”

I felt her pulling more through the Bonded connection. Then her power suddenly surged, and pain radiated through every cell in my body. It felt like being burned alive from the inside out. I curled inward, still clutching her hands, as the suppression magic fought back against her intrusion.

“I can’t do it all from the outside,” she warned. “Your wolf needs to fight, too.”

I closed my eyes again, searching for the presence I’d denied for so long.

Where are you? I called silently. I need you.

From the darkest corner of my mind came a faint whine. My wolf, so weakened by years of neglect and magical suppression, cowered as far away from the coven’s magic as he could get.

I’m sorry, I told him. I abandoned you. I let them cage you.

His whine turned into a growl, much stronger this time.

She wants to free you. She wants to meet you. Help her. Help your mate.

The pain intensified until I was flat on the ground, my body convulsing. Freya knelt beside me, one hand on my chest, the other still gripping mine.

“Those bastards,” she growled, her voice distant through the haze of agony. “It’s like… they created a one-way spell between your two types of magic. As you became more skilled with your magic, it weakened your wolf.”

Through the Bonded link, I felt Freya drawing more power from me, siphoning off the magic I’d cultivated in my wolf’s absence. She was draining my own power to give my wolf space to break free on his own.

Though I’d tried to do the very same thing for years and years, this time it was different. Freya could see my innate shifting magic, and she could draw on the strength of her other Bonded — our other Bonded. Their power flowed through her to me, helping me endure the agony.

“Preston… always said I didn’t have to choose,” I managed through clenched teeth.

“He was right.” Determination hardened her voice. “So, let’s make it so you don’t have to.”

She placed both hands on my chest now, and I felt her magic surge into me — not gentle probing anymore, but a torrent of raw power. Through our bond, I sensed the others responding, consciously lending her their strength. Even from a distance, Rowan’s power joined the other alphas’.

“Your wolf is part of you. Your magic is part of you,” she said, her words taking on a rhythmic quality that reminded me of a spell. “They are not separate. They are one. You are one. It’s time to fix this. Become whole again.”

Something inside me shifted, like tectonic plates realigning. The resulting earthquake caused the wall between my magic and my wolf to crumble.

Come back to me, I called to my wolf.

A howl answered, weak but defiant. My wolf fought his way back to the surface.

“That’s it,” Freya encouraged. “I can feel him. He’s coming.”

The pain peaked, and I screamed as my bones began to break and reform. It was worse — far worse — than my first shift had been. Years of suppression had made my body forget the path. Beginning the transformation felt like tearing myself apart, piece by piece.

“Maybe we should have waited for the full moon,” Freya said, worry creeping into her voice.

“No,” I gasped. “Now. It has to be now.”

Because if I stopped, if I retreated, I might never find the courage to try again. The coven had made me fear my wolf, made me believe he was dangerous, uncontrollable. But I was done being afraid of myself.

I rolled onto my hands and knees, my body shaking with the effort of the partial transformation. Bones stretched and contracted, skin itched as fur tried to emerge only to recede again. I was caught between forms, unable to complete the shift.

“I can’t—” I choked out.

“You can,” Freya insisted. She placed her hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at her. “Your wolf is right there, Zak. I can see him. He’s beautiful.”

As intricately connected as we were through our bond, she easily showed me an image — a dark gray wolf with amber eyes, powerful and proud. My wolf. My true self.

“Let go of the fear,” she whispered. “Let go of what they taught you. ”

I closed my eyes and reached for decades-old memories of my earliest shifts and the freedom I’d felt running through the forest on four paws, the moon guiding my path.

“That’s your birthright,” Preston had told me on multiple occasions, long before I could shift. “Never let anyone tell you otherwise.”

But I had. I’d let them take it. I’d helped them, burying my wolf so deep that even I couldn’t find him anymore.

And now it was too late. I’d left him trapped for too long.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to my wolf, knowing I’d tried and failed.

Freya’s hands moved to my shoulders. “No need to apologize. Your wolf just needs a push.”

“It’s time.” Gage’s commanding voice startled me, making me open my eyes.

A sling bag I’d never seen before fell to the ground beside me. Since my head was already turned, my eyes fell on the intricate beaded pattern decorating the edge of the flap.

“You’re going to need that when you shift,” Flint told me as he gathered up my clothes and pushed them inside of it.

“Nice work,” Heath said, and I wasn’t sure who he was talking to until Flint answered.

“Thanks. I had hoped to give it to him sooner.”

“I really hope your piercings survive this,” Heath grinned as I slowly regained my breath, letting my aching body rest. “I happen to like them.”

I laughed in spite of my pain. “They do. After I got them, I shifted to heal up. They don’t show up on my wolf, though.”

“Obviously,” Flint rolled his eyes, then elbowed Heath. “Our pack tattoos come back when we shift, you know. So do our moon tattoos, for that matter.”

“Yeah, but they’re inked into our skin, making them part of our body,” Heath grumbled. “Piercings are…”

“Part of my body now,” I wheezed, still winded from my attempts.

“Enough talk,” Gage growled. “Let’s make him shift.”

Three pairs of pants dropped onto the ground beside me. If I hadn’t been so wracked by agony, the sight might have aroused me .

“We’re going to shift together,” Flint told me in a calm, soothing voice.

“Don’t think about how,” Heath suggested. “Let your wolf lead the way.”

Freya pushed her power into me one final time, and all at once, the three alphas used their alpha-bark on me. “Shift, Zak.”

The command tore through me, forcing my wolf to obey as Freya tore through the last of my prison.

The suppression magic shattered.

My wolf lunged forward with a triumphant howl, and I let him take the lead. My Bonded all shifted with me, all of them falling to four paws as my own transformation cascaded through me like a tsunami — painful still, but powerful and natural.

My bones cracked and reformed, my spine curved, my face elongated. Fur erupted from my skin in a dark gray shade, but not as dark as Rowan’s black fur. My senses sharpened dramatically, bringing the nearby trees to life with scents and sounds I’d forgotten existed.

And then it was done. I stood on four paws, my body trembling, no longer with pain but with euphoria.

My wolf had returned.

For the first time in years, I was whole.