AYLA'S POV
The ritual circle was drawn in blood and ash.
Moonlight cut through the pines, catching on the black stones Rylan had laid in a perfect ring. Sigils carved into the snow pulsed faintly with silver light, answering the beat of my heart. The air itself was thick with magic, heavy enough to taste—iron, smoke, and the sharp bite of winter.
Kael stood across from me, bare-chested, his golden eyes locked on mine. His black wolf pressed against his skin, restless, hungry, and ready.
"This is the last time we kneel for anyone but each other," he said, voice low and rough, carrying in the cold night.
My wolf shivered in agreement, silver fire licking over my skin. "Then let's end it before he ever touches us again."
Rylan's voice cut through the cold. "You both understand—if the bond falters, even for a heartbeat, this circle will tear it apart. You'll both die."
Kael didn't flinch. "Then we hold."
