WARNING!!!! This chapter contains sexual content.
Kael didn't say anything.
He just stood there, back against the door, watching me like I was something wild that might
bolt.
His silence was worse than shouting. Worse than accusation. I could feel the bond pulling between us, tight and hot under the skin.
I stood slowly. "You could've knocked."
"I could've," he said. "But I didn't come here to ask permission."
The way he said it made something in me tense. Not in fear.
I took a breath, tried to speak, but failed. My heart was hammering so hard it was almost hard to hear my own thoughts.
"What do you want, Kael?"
He stepped forward once. "You."
The word hit like a slap.
"For what?" I asked. "A fight? A kiss? A night?"
His jaw clenched. "You think this is simple for me?"
"You're acting like it is."
He closed the distance in two strides, stopping just short of touching me. His voice dropped.
"Nothing about you is simple."
The heat of him washed over me. My wolf stirred hard beneath the surface—hungry,
restless, alert.
"Then say what you came to say," I whispered.
He stared at me. "You kissed Thorne."
"I didn't plan it."
"You kissed him back."
"Because I didn't know what else to do."
Kael's hands were fists at his sides. "Do you have any idea what that did to me?"
"No," I snapped. "Because you've barely spoken to me since the festival."
"I was trying to protect you."
"From what? Your brothers? Or yourself?"
The bond flared between us like a flash fire. For a second, neither of us moved. My shoulder
throbbed again—that deep ache just under the skin. My wolf pressed against my ribs like it wanted out.
Kael growled low in his throat. "You don't get it, do you?"
"Then explain it."
He grabbed my wrist—not rough, but firm—and pulled me into him. My body slammed into his hard chest, warm skin, and heat that rolled off him like a storm front.
The moment our skin touched, my bond mark lit.
A burst of pressure rocketed through me. I gasped as my shoulder glowed bright through the
thin fabric. Kael didn't look away.
"This," he said, voice rough. "This is what I've been fighting."
The energy between us surged. My wolf lunged forward in my chest, rising to meet his. I
could feel it—Kael's wolf wasn't calm either. It was circling, baring teeth, pushing him closer.
"And now?" I asked.
He leaned in. "Now I don't care if it burns."
I didn't even realize I was shaking until his hand moved to the side of my neck. He held me like I was something fragile. Like I was a lit fuse.
"I'm not choosing," I whispered.
"I'm not asking you to."
The second his mouth brushed mine, the bond exploded.
This wasn't a pull. It was a collision.
Kael's kiss was fire. No hesitation. No restraint. Just heat and desperation, all poured into one
moment, like he was trying to brand it into my bones.
My fingers dug into his shirt. His hands moved over my back, gripping, anchoring. The bond
burned beneath my skin—not painful, not gentle. Alive.
My legs went weak.
He caught me easily, lifting me off the floor like I weighed nothing and setting me down hard against the wall.
I should've told him to stop. Should've said we'd lose control.
But my wolf didn't want control.
Neither did his.
Kael kissed me again, deeper this time. Possessive. His hands slid under the hem of my shirt, fingers trailing heat over my stomach, my ribs. I felt the mark flare again—and this time, I
saw it, a thin ribbon of golden light stretching from my shoulder to his chest.
Our bond.
I gasped.
He broke the kiss just long enough to look at it.
"It's not finished," he whispered.
"Why not?"
"Because you haven't submitted to it."
I shuddered.
"I'm not an omega," I said.
"I know."
He stepped back just enough to pull off his shirt, and my breath caught. The mark on his
chest—the one connected to mine—was glowing, pulsing in time with his heartbeat.
He took my hand and placed it over it.
"Then don't submit," he said. "Fight me for it."
I didn't get the chance to answer.
The bond flared again.
Hard.
And we weren't in control anymore.
Kael's mouth was on mine again, and this time, neither of us held back.
The heat between us snapped loose like something too long caged. He pressed me into the
wall, one hand at my waist, the other gripping the back of my neck, not to hurt—but to keep
me where he needed me. Where I wanted to be.
The bond crackled under my skin. My shoulder mark glowed harder, hotter, flaring as his
chest touched mine. I felt his wolf surge beneath the surface, rising to meet mine. No words.
No hesitation. Just the raw, magnetic force pulling us together.
Kael lifted my shirt and dragged it over my head in one motion, dropping it to the floor without looking. His hands skimmed over bare skin like he'd been waiting for this exact moment to burn me into his memory.
I didn't shy away.
His mouth trailed down my throat, lips hot and rough. He bit lightly at the curve of my neck, and the bond flared again—so bright it left streaks of gold in my vision. My knees buckled.
He caught me again, one hand under my thigh, pulling me up against him. I wrapped my legs around his hips out of instinct, breath hitched. His body pressed into mine, all heat and
muscle, and the tension that had been building since the clearing finally broke.
"You feel that?" he growled into my neck.
I nodded, already breathless.
"That's what I've been trying to ignore."
His hand slid up my thigh, fingers gripping the edge of my underwear. One tug, and the
fabric tore.
I gasped.
Kael dropped me gently onto the bed, his eyes never leaving mine. He stripped quickly—no
hesitation, no ceremony. Then he was on me again, lips on my stomach, then my hip, trailing
up until his mouth was at my throat again.
I arched into him.
The bond pulsed with each touch—like it wanted more, deeper, harder. My shoulder glowed bright gold. His mark mirrored mine, lightning across his chest, beating with the rhythm of our
breathing.
Kael kissed me again, deeper this time, one hand braced beside my head, the other dragging
slowly down my side. He pushed inside me in one powerful thrust.
I cried out, not in pain, but in shock. The bond roared to life—white-hot and demanding.
Kael groaned into my mouth. "Fuck, Rory..."
He moved inside me, slow at first, like he was trying to hold back—but it didn't last. His control snapped. The next thrust was harder and deeper, and the mark burned even brighter.
I held onto him, legs tight around his waist, nails digging into his back. Every time our bodies
met, the bond sparked between us, gold threads flashing in the air.
His pace picked up, rough and desperate. He kissed me like he needed it to breathe, like the
world outside didn't matter. Like I was the only thing that did.
Our wolves rose again—his eyes glinting brighter, mine flickering. We weren't shifting, but we were close.
"I need—" I gasped.
"I know."
He pulled my hips higher, angling deeper. My back arched off the bed. I swore I saw stars.
The bond pushed harder now—like it wanted to complete, to brand us permanently. But it
stopped just short. Holding. Waiting.
Kael slowed.
He gripped my jaw gently and leaned his forehead to mine, both of us slick with sweat, breath ragged.
"Say it," he said.
"What?"
"You feel it."
I nodded. "I do."
"I've wanted this since the second I saw you shift. Since the moment I felt your scent in my
blood."
I swallowed hard. "Then why does it feel like it's breaking me?"
He didn't answer. He pulled out slowly, then thrust again, deep and hard.
I moaned.
The bond didn't just flare this time—it cracked open something inside me. Not pain.
Something deeper.
Need.
Kael moved faster, his hands gripping my hips like he couldn't stop. My moans turned ragged.
The room spun. Our marks glowed bright enough to light the walls.
I felt myself building—tightening.
Then—
I shattered.
My orgasm tore through me like lightning. I cried out, gripping him tighter, the bond flashing so hard I thought we might catch fire.
Kael groaned loud and deep as he came, collapsing against me, burying his face in my neck.
For a moment, the world stilled.
We didn't speak. We just breathed, wrapped in gold light and tangled limbs, skin slick and
pulsing with shared power.
But the mark was never completed.
It faded back to a low glow.
Kael rolled to the side, still breathing hard, arm resting over his eyes.
After a while, he spoke—quiet, rough.
"You're not just mine," he said. "That's what terrifies me."
Kael was asleep.
His arm was still slung over my waist, his breath slow and steady against my neck. The glow
of our marks had faded. Whatever had ignited between us—whatever bond had sparked and
burned through my veins—had cooled just enough to leave space between us.
But the bond hadn't completed.
I could still feel it. That unfinished thread tugging beneath the surface, restless. Like something important had been left undone.
I slipped out from under his arm.
Careful. Quiet.
Kael didn't stir.
The room was dim now, moonlight cutting through the open window in thin white lines. I dressed slowly, grabbing what I could find from the pile of clothes we'd stripped off in a rush. My hand hovered over the wrap around my palm, where Celina had sliced me.
It still ached. Not from the cut. From everything else.
I opened the door and stepped into the corridor.
I needed space. Air. Time to think.
The halls were silent. Everyone else was asleep—or pretending to be. I walked barefoot across the cold stone floors, avoiding creaking boards, ignoring the sting of guilt in my chest.
I hadn't meant to go that far with Kael. But once it started, I couldn't stop it. The bond was
too strong.
And it still wasn't finished.
What would've happened if I had let it? If I'd let the mark burn all the way through and seal
us permanently?
Would it have destroyed the others?
Would it have destroyed me?
I stepped outside, letting the night air hit my face. The wind was sharp, but not cold. It carried
the smell of moss, ash... and blood.
Old blood.
The ground near the healer's den still bore the scars of the shadow attack. I stood there a
moment, staring at the scorched stone. My shoulder ached again, like it remembered the
moment the creatures lunged at me.
I didn't stay long.
I went back inside before the chill could crawl too deep into my bones. Found my room.
Locked the door.
Then I crawled into the empty bed, curled onto my side, and tried to breathe through the
weight of the last few hours.
Eventually, sleep came.
The dream didn't start gently.
It slammed into me like a wave—hot, fast, and all-consuming.
Flames.
Not campfire flickers. Not warmth. Real fire. Raging and alive. I stood in the center of it, barefoot on cracked earth. The sky was black, filled with smoke and blood-colored clouds.
Ash rained down like snow.
I turned.
Bodies lay scattered across a field of stone and bone. Wolves—some half-shifted, some burned beyond recognition. The scent of death was thick, choking.
I tried to move. My legs responded, but slowly—like I was wading through molasses.
A cry echoed through the smoke.
A baby's cry.
Sharp. Fragile. Desperate.
It cut through everything.
I turned toward the sound, stumbling forward. The ground trembled beneath each step, as if the battlefield itself resented my presence.
Another cry.
Louder this time.
I ran toward it, breath ragged. My wolf stirred violently, snarling inside me. It wanted to protect. To tear apart anything in the way.
I reached a pile of charred debris and dropped to my knees. Beneath it—wrapped in scorched linen—was a baby. Alive. Crying.
Eyes glowing faintly gold.
The mark on my shoulder flared.
I reached for the baby—but someone grabbed my wrist.
Cold fingers.
Too strong.
I looked up.
And saw her.
A woman in a dark cloak, face half-hidden, but her eyes burned brighter than the fire around
us. Not gold. Not wolf. Something older.
"Celeste," I whispered.
I didn't know how I knew her name.
She tilted her head. "You pulled the thread."
"I didn't mean to—"
"But you did," she said. Her voice was layered. Like echoes inside echoes. "And now it
unravels."
I tried to stand, but she didn't let go. Her grip tightened, sharp enough to bruise.
"What is this?" I asked.
"A glimpse."
"Of what?"
She looked around us.
"This is what happens when you run from fate."
The flames twisted around her form but never touched her. Like the fire knew who she was—and wouldn't dare burn her.
"Who is the child?" I asked, voice shaking.
"You don't know?" she said softly.
"No."
Her gaze burned through me.
"Then you have less time than I thought."
The fire around us grew louder, rising into a deafening roar. The sky cracked open with light.
I covered my head, shielding the baby.
Then Celeste leaned in.
Her lips nearly touched my ear.
"If you don't choose soon," she whispered, "the curse will choose for you."
I sat bolt upright in bed, gasping.
Sweat soaked through my clothes. My heartbeat thundered in my ears.
My mark burned again.
The room was dark. Still. But the sense of dread hadn't left.
I looked toward the window.
Somewhere out there, something had shifted.
And I didn't think it would wait much longer.