The mate bond used to feel like warmth—like a golden thread gently wrapped around her chest.
Now it felt like pressure. A weight pressing behind her eyes. Like someone constantly knocking at her mind, asking to be let in.
Aria kept the door closed.
Her wolf—once muffled, now stirring—had become wary. Quiet, but not asleep. Not anymore.
Something had changed since the blast in the forest. And even though Dorian still smiled, still brought her gifts and brushed her knuckles with tender reverence, everything about him felt like noise now. Too loud. Too perfect.
She wandered the gardens alone after breakfast, trailing her fingers along the lavender stems. Elder Wren had said nothing more since their talk, but Aria had noticed the old woman watching her when she thought she wasn't being seen—like she was waiting for something.
Or for someone.
The wind shifted.
And there it was again: that ripple under her skin. The feeling of being pulled.
But this time, Aria resisted.
It startled her. The bond had never allowed resistance before. It had always demanded obedience—especially when Dorian was near.
She clutched her chest, her breath catching as the mark warmed slightly—responding.
"Aria?"
She turned to find Dorian approaching from the trees, his expression unreadable.
"I've been looking for you," he said. "You didn't answer the link."
Her voice came out smaller than she meant. "I didn't hear it."
He frowned, just for a second.
"Come. Walk with me. We need to talk."
They strolled along the river's edge, the water reflecting the cloudy sky. He touched her arm, guiding her to stop.
"You know I love you," he began, eyes searching hers.
She nodded.
"You know I'd never hurt you."
Aria hesitated. "Of course."
He stepped closer. "Then trust me when I say—you're in danger here. I can't protect you if you stay."
Her wolf growled faintly, unprompted.
"Dorian… I need time. This mark, this power—I don't understand it yet. And I can't ignore what Elder Wren said."
His jaw tightened. "She's filling your head with fear."
"No," Aria said slowly, "she's asking questions I didn't even know I should be asking."
Dorian exhaled, frustrated, then softened his expression with practiced ease.
"I just want what's best for you."
She smiled faintly, but took a small step back.
"I need to figure out what that really is."
Far away…
The witch stood before a shallow stone basin, steam curling from its surface. In it, a flickering image of Aria shimmered.
"She's slipping," the witch hissed, fingers curling into claws. "Your bond frays. Her soul resists."
Behind her, a small grave mound sat in shadow, surrounded by blood-marked runes.
"She has more power than even Selene thought," she murmured, casting black herbs into the flame.
"You must act soon. Or her awakening will burn you both."
A voice echoed from the shadows—Dorian's voice, hollow and laced with guilt.
"I did everything you asked. I found her. I bound her. I loved her."
The witch smiled coldly.
"Then betray her. And finish what we started."