The wind howled through the woods as Selene and Damon pressed forward, the fresh scent of burned magic clinging to them like a warning. The Witch's Hollow now lay behind them, scattered with the remains of the witches who had tried to end them. The battle was over, but neither of them felt safe.
The weight of their new bond settled on Selene like invisible chains.
If I die… you die.
His words echoed in her mind with each step she took. It had been instinct—sacrificing her blood to free him—but now that the fight was over, the gravity of what she'd done began to gnaw at her.
Their fates were no longer just tangled.
They were one.
She walked in silence, watching the way Damon led the way with measured steps, his tall frame radiating a controlled intensity. His dark cloak swayed behind him, his sword still faintly stained from the battle.
Her palm still stung where she had cut it. She'd wrapped it in cloth, but the sting didn't bother her. It was the memory—the feeling of power surging through her blood, the tether snapping tighter between them.
When she finally found her voice, it came out quieter than she expected. "When you said our bond… deepened. How deep does it go?"
Damon didn't stop walking, but his jaw tightened. "It's no longer just prophecy. You're bound to me through blood magic now. If I bleed, you'll feel it. If I suffer, you will too. And if my life is severed…" He paused, casting her a glance over his shoulder. "So is yours."
Her chest tightened, but not with fear. With something else. Something bitter and sharp.
"You should've told me," she said.
"I didn't think you'd—"
"You didn't think I'd save you?" she snapped.
His crimson eyes softened, the corner of his lips tilting with something like regret. "No. I didn't think you'd care."
That silenced her.
She wasn't sure if she cared because she wanted to… or because she didn't know how to walk away.
They pressed on through the woods until the trees thinned, revealing a crumbling stone road that led to a village in the distance.
Smoke curled lazily from a few chimneys, but the place looked half-abandoned, as though something had driven the life from it.
"Why here?" Selene asked.
"It's where the Bloodfangs last gathered," Damon said. "I have… unfinished business."
Selene's throat tightened. Bloodfangs. The brutal wolf clan that had hunted her relentlessly.
"They'll recognize you."
"They'll try to kill me," he corrected. "They always try."
"And we're just going to walk in?"
"Not quite." Damon's smirk flickered, sharp and fleeting. "We'll meet someone first."
Selene arched a brow. "Who?"
"A friend." His tone was flat, but there was something beneath it—a thread of hesitation.
"You have friends?" she teased, needing the humor to steady her nerves.
"One," he admitted.
As they approached the village's edge, a figure emerged from the shadows—tall, broad, with a wolfish grin and a scar slicing down one cheek.
"Damon," the man greeted, his voice rough but not unkind.
"Alec." Damon clasped his forearm briefly, the gesture quick but genuine.
Alec's sharp eyes slid to Selene. "So this is the witch."
Selene stiffened, but Damon's presence beside her steadied her.
"This is Selene," Damon said simply.
Alec's gaze lingered on the wrapped cloth around her hand. "You bound yourselves."
Selene's pulse stuttered. "Word travels fast."
"Blood bonds always do." Alec shrugged. "Some would call it reckless. Others… desperate."
"It was necessary," Damon said.
Alec studied Selene for another heartbeat, then nodded. "Come. You need to see something."
They followed Alec through the village, past shuttered homes and deserted streets. Selene noticed the claw marks gouged into wooden doors, the bloodstains that hadn't been fully scrubbed from the stones.
"What happened here?" she asked, her voice low.
"Bloodfangs." Alec's tone darkened. "The clan's changed. They've stopped caring about their own. They hunt witches, yes, but now they hunt everyone."
Selene swallowed. "Why?"
"Because they're not just wolves anymore," Alec said grimly. "They've been corrupted."
He led them to a small cottage on the outskirts, where a child sat on the steps, her eyes distant, her skin pale.
Alec knelt beside her, his voice soft. "What's your name, little one?"
The girl didn't answer.
"She's mute," Alec explained. "Found her alone after the Bloodfangs raided her village. She's the only survivor."
Selene's chest ached as she knelt in front of the child. The girl's hand trembled in her lap, and when Selene gently touched it, she flinched.
"She's been marked," Selene whispered, noticing the faint red rune burned into the girl's wrist.
Damon's eyes darkened. "They're using blood seals."
Alec nodded. "It's a new tactic. They brand their victims. Some they kill. Some they… turn."
Selene's throat tightened. "They're turning humans into wolves?"
"Into something worse," Alec said. "Wolves twisted by dark magic. They don't think. They don't feel. They just obey."
Selene's stomach churned. "Who's leading them now?"
Alec's jaw clenched. "A wolf called Theron. He wasn't always like this. He used to lead with honor. But something… changed him."
"Changed him how?" Damon asked.
"He made a pact. With someone who promised him power enough to break all bloodlines. He's building an army of the cursed."
Selene's mind raced. The Witch Council had tried to kill her. The Bloodfangs wanted to turn her. And somewhere in the middle was the High Priestess, still pulling the strings.
"Theron's not working alone," Damon muttered, his eyes narrowing. "Someone's guiding him."
Alec's gaze flicked to Selene. "I think we both know who."
Selene's pulse hammered. The High Priestess.
"She's fueling this," Selene whispered.
"She's using the Bloodfangs to hunt you," Alec confirmed. "And to destroy Damon's bloodline."
Damon's fists clenched at his sides. "We need to cut them off."
Alec sighed, glancing toward the village's edge. "There's a Bloodfang outpost not far from here. Theron's lieutenants gather there. If you want answers, that's where you'll find them."
Selene stood, determination burning in her chest. "Then we go there."
Damon hesitated. "It's not your fight."
Selene's glare could've shattered stone. "You bound me to you. It's my fight now."
For the first time since they'd met, Damon didn't argue.
Alec gave them directions, his expression grim. "Be careful. Bloodfangs don't leave survivors anymore."
They left the village behind, the weight of what lay ahead pressing on them.
The journey to the outpost was grueling. They traveled through dense woods, over crumbling bridges, and across rivers that shimmered with strange, magical hues. Along the way, Damon taught Selene to control her power—to channel her spells without letting them spiral out of control.
Their bond made it easier. She could feel his heartbeat when he was near. She could sense his pain when his old wounds ached.
It terrified her.
But it also made her stronger.
When they finally reached the outpost, night had fallen. Fires crackled around the perimeter, and wolves patrolled the edges, their fur streaked with strange, dark veins.
Selene crouched beside Damon behind a cluster of rocks, her fingers twitching with nervous energy.
"What's the plan?" she whispered.
"We get in. Find Theron's second-in-command. Make him talk."
"And if they catch us?"
"They won't," Damon said, though his grip on his sword betrayed his tension.
They moved swiftly, slipping past the patrols with practiced ease. Damon's vampire agility and Selene's spells made them a dangerous pair. When they encountered guards, Damon dispatched them without hesitation, while Selene cast silencing spells to keep their presence hidden.
Inside the main hall, they found Theron's lieutenant—a towering wolf with silver hair and cold, lifeless eyes.
Damon's blade was at his throat before the wolf could speak.
"Where's Theron?" Damon growled.
The wolf snarled. "You're too late. He's already begun."
"Begun what?"
"The unmaking."
Selene stepped forward, her magic crackling in her palms. "What is the unmaking?"
"The destruction of all cursed bloodlines," the wolf hissed. "Vampires, witches, hybrids—Theron will purge them all."
"And what does the High Priestess gain from this?" Damon demanded.
The wolf laughed, a hollow sound. "She gains freedom. When the last cursed blood is gone, so is her tether to this world."
Selene's heart dropped. "She's bound, too?"
"She's bound by her own spell. Destroying the cursed bloodlines is her only escape."
Damon's grip tightened. "Tell us where Theron is."
The wolf's smirk was feral. "Already gone to the Crimson Valley. To finish what he started."
Before they could press further, the wolf bit down on something—poison, Selene realized—and collapsed, his body twitching violently until he stilled.
Damon cursed, pulling Selene toward the exit as the outpost erupted in chaos.
They barely escaped the collapsing structure, the fire chasing them into the night.
When they reached the safety of the woods, Selene collapsed to her knees, her chest heaving.
"She's not just using them," Selene whispered. "She's using all of us."
Damon crouched beside her, his expression grim. "Then we stop her."
"She's tied to the curse. She's tied to you. And now I'm tied to you. She'll kill anyone who stands in her way."
"Then we stand anyway."
Selene met his gaze, finding a fierce determination there that mirrored her own.
"We need to reach the Crimson Valley," she said.
"We will," Damon promised.
But beneath his steady voice, Selene could feel it—the faint tremor of his fear. Not for himself. For her.
Because if he fell, she would fall.
And the Bloodfangs, the witches, and the High Priestess would all win.
But Selene wasn't planning on losing.
Not now.
Not ever.