Kael’s POV

The night stretched long after the banquet. I couldn't sleep throughout the night. The bond continued to vibrate in the back of my mind. It was faint but relentless. Whenever I closed my eyes, her energy flickered like it wanted to speak. I stopped trying to rest.

Reports came in before dawn. Another sigil had been found near the southern border, older than the last but active again. The council argued for containment. I ignored them. I’d seen hesitation turn into graves. I gave the order to ride.

The forest met us in silence. Fog hung low, swallowing sound. The scouts spread out, blades drawn, eyes scanning shadows. I walked ahead, listening. The trees felt wrong. They didn’t move; they waited. My wolf paced beneath my skin.

We found the first sigil burned into stone near the ridge. The edges were faint, but power still pulsed through it. When a scout touched it, the blade hissed. I told them to mark the perimeter and stay alert. My gut said we weren’t alone.

As we got deeper, a second mark appeared, fresher and sharper. The air stank of an ironic smell and smoke. I crouched close to it and traced the groove. The scent hit me. Mira. Her blood. My pulse slammed.

I signaled the others to return to camp. “Sweep once more, then hold position.” They obeyed. When they were gone, I turned back to the mark. I touched the soil. It pulsed.

The bond flared, sharp, defensive. I felt her stir, then retreat. She couldn’t know what I’d found. If she felt fear, whoever caused this might sense it too. I needed control.

I smirked and moved deeper into the forest. The path narrowed as I moved further. The path twisted until it became a big, unmarked garden. At its center stood a tree carved halfway with another unfinished symbol. The ground was scorched. A fragment of dark fabric lay near the roots. Her scent lingered.

I picked it up. The moment my fingers brushed it, a flash ripped through my mind, light, red, and violent. Mira’s hand bled against the earth, her breath breaking. The sigil carved itself around her as she resisted. Not casting it, fighting it. Her scream tore through me. Then it ended.

I caught myself against the trunk, chest tight. My wolf growled, furious. Someone had used her blood to fuel a binding. They knew the bond and wanted to twist it.

Footsteps broke the silence. The steps were slow but deliberate. I turned, claws sliding out. Then, a man from an allied pack stumbled forward. His clothes were torn, and his eyes glazed. “You shouldn’t have come alone, the first flame has chosen,” he rasped.

“Explain.”

He smiled faintly, already fading. “It begins with blood. She just answered faster.” His body jerked, veins lighting red. He screamed and burned from within until only ash remained.

The forest fell silent again. The sigils pulsed once before fading into darkness. I crushed the ash beneath my boot. Something was waiting.

I tore through the earth, destroying the sigil stroke by stroke. It fought back, burning my arm. I didn’t stop. The bond hit again, her pain, raw and brief. I finished it. The ground went still.

My hand bled, the mark burned deep into my palm. It didn’t fade. I wrapped it, steadying my breath. Had the council learned her blood was involved, they’d brand her cursed. I wouldn’t allow it.

I buried the remnants, the cloth, the ash, the soil, and masked the spot with my scent. Dawn broke as I reached the outer post. The guards stiffened but stayed silent. They smelled the smoke and knew better than to ask.

Inside, Seraphine waited. “You took your time.” Her gaze dropped to my bandaged hand. “You found something.”

“Nothing that matters.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Keep secrets from your own, and you’ll lose them.”

“I’ve lost enough.”

She left, silent but judging. Cyrus entered, grim. “The woods are unstable. Should we burn them?”

“Yes. At sunrise.” He nodded, reading what I wouldn’t say. Then he left.

The hall emptied. I stayed. The bond buzzed softly, almost calm. I pressed my hand to the table, grounding myself. I thought of her, her blood, her struggle, her silence. Whoever orchestrated this wasn’t testing me. They were preparing her.

I unwrapped my hand. The burn had changed. A faint sigil glowed beneath the skin, the same one I’d destroyed. It pulsed once, dim light fading back into my veins. Her energy flickered through it, tired, faint. Then a whisper brushed my mind: “You shouldn’t have gone alone.”

I didn’t answer. The connection was unstable. I shut it down and wrapped my hand again.

Morning light stretched through the fortress walls. Patrol horns sounded from the ridge. The forest would burn soon. No one would find what I buried.

Smoke rose in the distance. The sigils would die, I told myself. I could feel the stringing pinch in my inner person. My wolf growled low. The warning wasn’t a warning; it was a promise.

The door opened. Seraphine’s voice was calm. “There’s movement beyond the border. Same symbols. They’re spreading north.”

“Seal the gates. No one leaves.”

“Including her?”

“Especially her.” She nodded and left. The silence grew heavy again.

I looked at my palm. The sigil flared, bright, alive, then faded into the veins of my wrist. The bond pulsed, sharp and urgent. I felt her fear. Then another pulse joined it. Not hers. Not mine. Different. Watching.

I closed my fist, cutting off the glow. Outside, the fire roared through the forest. Smoke rolled in like a warning. The sigil hadn’t been destroyed.

It had moved into me. And whatever hunted her had just found a new path through me.

I bowed my head for seconds, and by the time I raised it, the whole place had gone quite like a graveyard. And suddenly, a shadow appeared again from nowhere.