Mira’s POV

The confinement started quietly. No one said it aloud, but the guards stationed by the door said enough. Cyrus told her it was precautionary. Kael was gone before dawn. The bond felt muted, heavy with something she couldn’t name.

She paced for hours before Seraphine appeared. The woman walked in like she owned the place. She wore a calm smile, calm eyes, everything calculated. The guards hesitated to stop her. She waved them off, her tone too sweet to argue. Mira stayed by the table, waiting for the game to begin.

Seraphine started softly. “You’ve caused quite the stir,” she said. Mira replied, “I didn’t plan to.” The woman chuckled. “You never do. But Kael reacts. Always for you.” Mira’s fingers curled against her side. “He doesn’t.” Seraphine’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Then why does his hand burn every time you’re near?”

The air went tight. Mira looked away, pretending she didn’t understand. “You’re mistaken.” Seraphine tilted her head. “You forget how long I’ve known him. I’ve seen the way his pulse changes. I’ve seen the mark.” Mira’s heart stumbled. “What mark?” Seraphine smiled. “The one that shouldn’t still exist.”

Mira didn’t answer. She didn’t trust her voice. “You can deny him, but you can’t erase what’s still etched beneath your skin,” Seraphine muttered.

“You think I’d want that bond?” Mira snared.

Seraphine laughed and retorted, “Wanting isn’t the same as needing. You and he, your blood hums when the other moves.”

Mira turned away, forcing control back into her voice. “You talk too much.” Seraphine shrugged. “Maybe. But Kael still claims you, whether he admits it or not.” The words hit hard, sharper than they should. Mira said nothing. Her silence answered for her.

Seraphine changed tone, suddenly formal. “The council is unsettled. They think your presence stirs the old wards. That sigil wasn’t random, Mira. It was drawn to you.” Mira shook her head. “No.” Seraphine smiled. “Denial’s exhausting, but convenient.”

Mira smirked and snarled, “You don’t know what you’re talking about. Seraphine stepped closer, voice dropping. “You felt it, didn’t you? That surge at the banquet. The way the bond flared. It wasn’t an attraction. It was awakening.” Mira’s throat went dry. “You’re twisting things.” Seraphine whispered, “Control isn’t the same as denial.”

A knock broke the silence. Cyrus entered without waiting. His expression was grim. “Movement near the ruins again,” he said. “Another sigil. Kael’s orders are clear—Mira stays inside.” Seraphine arched a brow. “Locked away already? How efficient.” Cyrus ignored her. Mira caught the flicker of irritation in his eyes.

As Seraphine turned to leave, she paused beside Mira. “He can lock you up, but he can’t stop what’s inside you.” Mira stayed still, jaw tight. Seraphine smiled faintly and walked out. The door closed behind her with a soft click. Silence settled, but not peace.

Mira sank into the chair, pulse racing. Her hands trembled before she noticed. She pulled back her sleeve. Faint red veins shimmered beneath the skin, flickers of light pulsing like a heartbeat. Her stomach turned. She pressed her palm over the spot, but the rhythm didn’t fade.

Kael’s energy brushed against her mind then, faint but real. A warning more than words. Heat flooded through her chest, then faded fast, leaving emptiness. The connection strained but didn’t break. Something in it whispered danger.

She closed her eyes, trying to steady herself. The mark under her skin wasn’t a memory; it was active. It pulsed in sync with the forest, as if the sigils outside were breathing through her veins. The thought made her cold.

Then came the slip of paper. It slid under the door, soundless, deliberate. She froze before picking it up. The scent of pine and ash clung to it. Just one line written in jagged ink: He buried what ties you to it, but not all of it. Some still burn.

Mira read it twice. She didn’t need to ask who he was. Kael had said he destroyed the old markings. He must’ve left something behind, something still bound to her. Her pulse spiked again, answering the bond without consent.

She tore the note and burned it over the candle flame. The ashes curled like smoke serpents, vanishing before they hit the table. Her thoughts wouldn’t vanish as easily. She whispered, “What did you do, Kael?”

Outside, the corridors echoed faint footsteps. She sensed the guards shifting, then stilling. A hum passed through the walls, low and familiar. Her mark pulsed again. It wasn’t imagination. Something in the forest was calling.

She reached for the bond, whispering his name. No answer. Only silence and heat. The hum grew louder, like the air itself responding. Then, faintly, a whisper—not from Kael, not human. Come back.

Every heartbeat carried his energy. It wasn’t comfortable anymore. It was possession.

Time dragged until night swallowed the stronghold. The guards changed shifts. No one came to check on her. She didn’t sleep. The candle burned down to its base before the whisper came again.

It wasn’t from the door this time. It came from the corridor, soft and certain. “When he finally comes for you,” Seraphine’s voice drifted, low and deliberate, “it won’t be Kael anymore.”

Mira froze. The bond flared hot, then went utterly still. She waited, listening, but the voice didn’t return.

Her heart beat once. Twice. Then, faintly, she felt his echo answer. It wasn’t calm. It wasn’t Kael’s usual control. It was sharp, dangerous, and desperate.

She whispered, “I’m not afraid.” The bond tightened as if testing her resolve. Then it loosened again, almost approving. She stood there, breathing hard.

Whatever Kael had buried was waking, and it was using her to find him.

She looked at the door, then at her arm. “Then I’ll still go,” she murmured. The mark warmed in response. Not comfort. Command.

The bond throbbed once more before going quiet. Mira didn’t know if it was his silence or the forest’s hold. She just knew neither had let go.

The candle finally died after some time and left her in near-darkness.

Outside, the guards whispered about the southern patrols. The sigil had flared again, this time showing two overlapping shapes, a wolf’s claw and a crescent scar. Kael hadn’t returned. No one said why.

Mira sat in the dark, whispering to herself. “He can’t stop what’s inside me.” There was no response from anyone, but her skin did. The faint light under her skin flickered once more before fading to stillness.

Somewhere beyond the walls, something answered with a growl.

And the bond pulsed again, this time with warning.