The forest wraps around me like a secret, the Silverclaw border fading behind as I slip through the trees, my heart pounding louder than my boots on the dirt. That shadow I saw—some wolf watching me—has my nerves on edge, but I don't spot it again. My wrist burns where the crescent mark sits, like it's pissed I'm not with Kael Draven right now. The mate bond's tugging hard, a pull I'm fighting with every step, but it's like trying to ignore a siren's call. I'm Lila Thorn, tracker, not some moonstruck idiot, but Kael's gray eyes and that damn vision of his betrayal keep haunting me. I need to find him, make sure we're still on the same page about hitting the Blackfang stronghold. Torin's suspicion's already breathing down my neck, and I can't shake the feeling I'm running out of time.
The neutral territory's dark, the moon hidden behind clouds, and the air's thick with the scent of pine and something wilder—Kael. I catch his trail near a rocky outcrop, the same spot we split up hours ago. My mark flares, and I know he's close. I move silently, my tracker instincts sharp, my dagger ready. The Blackfangs could be tailing us, and after that enchanted chain they swung at me, I'm not taking chances. A low whistle cuts through the quiet—our signal—and I relax, just a bit. Kael steps out from the shadows, his scarred frame lit by starlight, his gray eyes locking onto mine like they see right through me. My breath catches, and I hate how my body reacts, all warm and fluttery.
"You're late," he says, his voice low and rough, like he's been chewing on gravel. "Thought you'd bailed."
I roll my eyes, sheathing my dagger. "Please. I don't bail. Had to dodge Torin and half the pack. They're on my ass, Kael. Torin thinks I'm hiding something."
He steps closer, and the mate bond hums, making my skin prickle. "You are hiding something. Me. This." He nods at my wrist, where the mark's hidden under my sleeve. "You should've stayed away, Lila. Told you this'd get messy."
I laugh, sharp and bitter. "Messy? I'm way past messy. My pack's ready to lock me up, the Blackfangs are hunting us, and this mark's turning me into a walking curse magnet. So don't start with the 'go home' crap. We're in this, and I'm not running."
His lips twitch, almost a smile, and it does something stupid to my insides. "Stubborn as hell," he mutters, but there's a warmth in his voice that wasn't there before. He leans against a tree, his coat open, showing the way his shirt clings to his chest. I look away, my cheeks hot. No way am I letting the bond win this round.
"Alright," I say, crossing my arms. "We're here. What's the plan? We can't just waltz into the Blackfang stronghold. That witch of yours—Isolde—she's got magic up to her eyeballs, and those wolves aren't playing."
Kael's face hardens at Isolde's name. "She's not mine. And you're right—it's a death trap. But I've been thinking. There's a ritual, old pack lore, that might weaken her magic. It's risky, needs blood from both of us, but it could give us an edge."
I raise an eyebrow. "Blood? You're not selling this, Draven. What kind of ritual?"
He hesitates, his eyes searching mine. "A binding rite. Ties our strengths together, makes us harder to break. It's not permanent, but it'll amplify the mate bond. Problem is, it'll make the curse hit me harder too."
My stomach drops. "Harder how? You said it's already draining you. You trying to speed-run your own funeral?"
He shrugs, like it's no big deal, but his eyes are tight. "Maybe. But if we don't get to Isolde, I'm dead anyway. And you're not safe as long as that mark's active. Your call, Thorn."
I pace, my boots kicking up leaves. The idea of tying myself closer to Kael, of making this bond even stronger, scares the hell out of me. But the thought of him dying, of the Blackfangs tearing through my pack, scares me more. I stop, meeting his gaze. "Fine. We do it. But if this kills you, I'm gonna be pissed."
He chuckles, a low sound that sends shivers down my spine. "Noted. We'll need a safe spot, somewhere the Blackfangs can't sniff us out. There's a clearing nearby, old ritual ground. We move now."
I nod, and we slip through the forest, the darkness swallowing us. My mark's burning, and every step closer to Kael makes it worse—or better, depending on how much I want to lie to myself. The clearing's small, ringed with stones that hum with faint energy, like they're alive. Kael pulls a small knife from his coat, its blade etched with runes. "Ready?" he asks, his voice soft, almost gentle.
I swallow hard, my heart racing. "Yeah. Let's do this."
He steps close, so close I can feel his heat, and the bond flares, making my head spin. He takes my hand, his touch sending sparks through my mark, and slices his palm, then mine. Blood wells up, and he presses our hands together, our fingers lacing. The air crackles, and I feel him—his strength, his pain, like they're mine. My mark glows, and I gasp, the bond tightening, pulling us closer. His eyes lock on mine, and for a moment, I forget the curse, the Blackfangs, everything but him.
"Lila," he whispers, his voice rough, and I realize I'm leaning into him, our faces inches apart. The bond's screaming, and I want to kiss him, to let it take over. But I pull back, my chest heaving, my hand still in his.
"Don't," I say, my voice shaky. "This doesn't change anything. We're doing this to fight, not… whatever this is."
He nods, but his eyes are dark, full of something I'm not ready to name. "Right. Let's move."
We're halfway out of the clearing when a growl stops us cold. My dagger's out, and Kael's claws flash. Five Blackfang wolves step into the light, their gold eyes glinting, led by a massive wolf with a scarred muzzle. My mark burns, and I know they're here for blood. "Stay close," Kael growls, stepping in front of me.
I shove past him, my blade ready. "I don't need a babysitter, Kael. Let's send these mutts running."
The wolves charge, and I dive in, my heart pounding. This is my fight, curse or no curse, and I'm not letting anyone—not Kael, not the Blackfangs—take it from me.