Ava
The floor beneath me feels colder than it should, even though the air is heavy with heat from the resin burning nearby. I grip Caleb's hand tightly as John pushes open the old iron hatch hidden beneath a rug in the corner of the candle shop.
"Down here," he says, voice low and heavy with weight. "The ritual must be performed beneath ground—where spiritual ties run deepest and the veil is thin."
The stairs are steep, carved directly into the earth. The further down we go, the heavier the air becomes, thick with the scent of soil, wax, and something older—something sacred. I can feel it settle over my skin like invisible dust.
The chamber below is perfectly round, the walls smoothed by time and marked with ancient runes. Candles flicker to life with a motion of John's hand. At the center lies a ritual circle marked with salt, stone, and silver, each sigil glowing faintly.
John lays out the Weeping Stone, the Moonfire Resin, and the Shard of Obsidian Root, positioning them with care. "This place is old," he murmurs. "It remembers. And it will help us if we honor it."
My heart pounds as I step toward the center of the circle—but Caleb doesn't let go of my hand.
He looks to John. "I'm staying with her."
John hesitates. "Ava is the anchor. She's the one the bond is wrapped around. But… if Lucas lashes out, it could strike you too."
"Then I'd rather be inside," Caleb says, his voice calm but firm. "If this thing reaches for her, it'll have to go through me."
John studies him for a moment, then nods once. "Very well. Stand beside her and stay grounded. No matter what happens, don't move unless I tell you."
We step inside the circle together, our fingers intertwined. I can feel Caleb's strength pulsing through the bond that's slowly forming between us. Maybe it's not complete yet—but it's real. And it's growing stronger.
John begins the incantation.
The air shifts immediately. The runes glow brighter. The Weeping Stone starts to shimmer in my hands, silver droplets forming on its surface. A thread—thin, dark, and coiled like a living thing—stirs in my chest, rising like smoke through water.
The bond.
I can see me and Caleb's bond clear as day. It weaves us together, like a golden rope tied around each of us. But,I also see the silver strands trying to grip me representing Lucas trying to hold on, but the golden rope seems to have a burning affect on the silver smoke strands and recoils when it touches.
Caleb squeezes my hand, jaw clenched, eyes locked on me. Then John speaks the severing words.
By moon undone and shadow freed,
I call upon the ancient seed.
Where heart once bound and soul entwined,
Let tether fade, no trace to find.
By blood once warm, now cold and still,
Unlace the vow, unmake the will.
The bond that clings when love has flown,
Shall now unbind — leave one, alone.
No curse I cast, no hate I sow,
Only release, that both may grow.
Spirit to spirit, I set thee free,
As I am mine — so mote it be.
That's when everything explodes.
A scream—silent, but so loud it makes my vision blur—rips through the chamber. The bond pulses violently, then snaps outward like a whip made of shadow and fire. It strikes the edge of the ritual circle, recoiling as it hits the barrier.
The tether to Lucas thrashes in the air between us, lashing wildly like it knows it's about to die. The shadows rush us in a frenzy—but Caleb stands in front of me before I even blink, his aura flaring with raw, Alpha-born power.
John raises his hands, chanting louder, deeper, speaking in a voice I don't recognize. It's not just his—it's layered, ancient. Elemental. The candles flicker wildly. The Moonfire Resin ignites, smoke curling upward in twisting silver spirals that wrap around the lashing bond like chains.
The tether whips toward Caleb—and strikes.
Pain flares in his shoulder, but he doesn't fall. He stands taller, more determined, shielding me with everything he has. The tether recoils as if burned.
John slams his hand down onto the Obsidian Root. It glows with a blinding pulse and sucks the smoke inward—pulling Lucas's fury and the corrupted remnants of the bond into itself. The runes burn white-hot, and the entire chamber hums with magic before falling silent.
My knees buckle. Caleb catches me instantly.
John's voice cuts through the stillness. "It's done."
The pain faded before the darkness did.
It wasn't sudden. It was like sinking beneath still water — the noise dulling first, then the weight lifting, until there was nothing left to hold onto. I didn't feel my body anymore. No floor beneath me. No hands. No blood. Just quiet.
When I opened my eyes, I wasn't alone.
John stood a few steps away, exactly as he always did — hands folded loosely behind his back, posture relaxed, expression calm in that way that always made me feel like nothing terrible could happen while he was nearby.
This place wasn't anywhere I recognized. It was light without a source, space without edges. It felt… safe. Not warm. Not comforting.
Just honest.
"Am I dead?" I asked.
He smiled faintly. "No."
"Unconscious?"
"Yes."
I exhaled slowly. "Figures."
I took a step toward him. My body felt lighter here. Not weak. Just… unburdened.
"John," I said, and the way his name echoed told me this wasn't a dream. "Who are you?"
His smile didn't change. But something in his eyes did — a softening, maybe. Or acceptance.
"You've always been curious," he said.
"That's not an answer."
"No," he agreed. "But it's a reason."
I folded my arms, suddenly unsure of myself. "Why did you do all of this for me?"
He didn't respond right away. He looked at me like he was seeing something layered — not just who I was now, but who I'd been.
"Because you're a good person," he said simply.
The words hit harder than I expected.
"That's… not really enough," I murmured.
"For you," he said gently. "It never is."
He stepped closer, and the space between us seemed to shift without distance changing.
"No one talks to me," he continued. "Not really. Not unless they want something. Deals. Favors. Protection. Power." His gaze met mine. "But you did."
"I didn't—"
"You did," he interrupted, not unkindly. "Even when you were small. You noticed me. You spoke to me like I mattered. And when you got older… when they treated you poorly… you still carried that same light."
My throat tightened.
"I watched them try to dim you," he said. "And fail."
"I wasn't always strong," I whispered.
"No," he agreed. "But you were always kind."
He paused, then added quietly, "I knew you were special long before anyone else did. Long before you did."
I swallowed. "You said it was fate."
"It is."
I studied him more closely then, really looking. There was something about him — something layered, restrained, old. It brushed against my awareness like a shape I couldn't quite focus on.
"You're not just a wolf," I said.
His smile widened just a fraction.
"I know."
"What are you?"
He shook his head slowly.
"Not yet," he said. "You'll see when it's time."
I huffed a weak laugh. "You're infuriating."
"I've been told."
The quiet settled again, comfortable but heavy.
"I was kind to you," I said after a moment, "because you were kind first. I could feel it. That you were good."
He inclined his head slightly, like that mattered to him more than he'd admit.
My chest ached suddenly, sharp and unexpected.
"I wish I'd seen it sooner," I said softly. "That Lucas wasn't good."
John's expression changed then — not pity. Not disappointment.
Clarity.
"You did see him," he said. "You just saw him before he became what he is now."
I frowned. "That doesn't—"
"It does," he said gently. "People change. And some people are very good at hiding it — even from those closest to them. You loved who he showed you. Who you believed him to be."
He met my eyes fully.
"That isn't a failure. And it isn't your job to mind-read people."
The weight in my chest eased just a little.
"You are not responsible for the person he chose to become."
Silence followed — softer this time.
Then John tilted his head, studying me with something like curiosity.
"And Caleb?" he asked. "Is he good to you?"
I smiled without thinking.
"Yes," I said. "He is."
"I've heard rumors," John added mildly. "Cold. Distant."
I laughed softly. "Only to people who don't know him."
"And to you?"
"He's wonderful," I said, and the truth of it settled warm and steady in my chest. "He listens. He protects without smothering. He sees me." I hesitated, then added quietly, "I'm happy. Really."
John nodded, satisfied.
"I'm glad," he said. "That matters."
The light around us began to shift, thinning like mist burned away by sun.
"Am I waking up?" I asked.
"Yes."
"Will I remember this?"
He smiled — the same calm, knowing expression as always.
"You'll remember what you need to."
The ground seemed to tilt beneath me, the world pulling me backward.
"John?" I called quickly.
"Yes?"
"Thank you."
His voice followed me as the light faded.
"You don't owe me gratitude," he said. "You only owed yourself freedom."
And then the darkness gave way to breath, to weight, to the sharp pull of reality rushing back in.
Warmth spills through the windows upstairs, soft and golden. Caleb is already awake beside me, watching me carefully.
"How's the mark?" he asks gently.
I lift my sleeve. The skin is no longer raw. The angry, red inflammation is gone. The marks angry redness is faded now—soft at the edges, no longer burning.
"Seventy-five percent better," I whisper.
Relief flashes in his eyes. He brushes his lips against my forehead. "You were incredible."
"So were you," I whisper back. "You took that hit for me. You didn't have to do that"
"I told you," he murmurs. "It has to go through me first."
There's a knock at the door.
John steps in, hands folded in front of him, expression unreadable.
"I need to speak with both of you," he says quietly. "Privately."
We sit up straighter. My nerves tighten again.
"What is it?" Caleb asks.
John steps further into the room, his voice softer now. "During the ritual… when the bond snapped... I saw things. Things I wasn't expecting."
I exchange a look with Caleb.
"What kind of things?" I ask slowly.
John meets my gaze—and for the first time, something ancient and unfathomable flickers behind his eyes, like he can see right through me.
"You're not just the key to breaking one curse, Ava," he says. "You're at the center of something much, much bigger. You both have quite a few secrets, but thats alright, i understand."
Before either of us can ask what that means, he turns and leaves the room.
Leaving us in silence and confusion.