Liora couldn't move. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at the glowing symbol that had appeared just above her collarbone. A swirling, ethereal pattern shimmered like moonlight trapped in ink, pulsing faintly with power.
Killian's face darkened with concern, but not fear. He stepped closer, brushing his thumb gently over the mark as if trying to memorize it. "It's started," he murmured.
Liora flinched at the contact—not from discomfort, but from the spark it sent racing through her. "What do you mean it's started?" Her voice trembled. "What is this?"
Killian exhaled slowly, fingers still lingering on her skin. "It's the mark of the cursed bond," he said, gaze locked with hers. "It only appears when a witch of royal blood is fated to a creature bound by ancient magic. It means... we're connected."
The words hit her like a lightning bolt. Connected? As in... destined?
"That's ridiculous," Liora whispered, backing away, though the mark continued to pulse. "I'm just—just a girl who inherited a cottage in the woods and talks to frogs. I'm not... special."
Killian tilted his head, a half-smile playing at his lips despite the tension. "Oh, you're definitely special, Liora. This mark only responds to true bloodlines. And you just triggered it. Which means everything I feared is true... and everything I hoped might be possible."
Liora felt the weight of it all pressing down on her—the voices, the vision, the kiss they shared in the rain, the way her magic had surged the moment Killian touched her. Everything was pointing toward something bigger than either of them.
"I don't want a cursed bond," she whispered, wrapping her arms around herself. "I just want to live my life without being hunted or marked or dragged into some ancient war."
Killian stepped forward, gently cupping her face. "I know," he said softly. "And if I could take this burden from you, I would. But the universe doesn't care what we want. It only cares what we are."
His words settled in her bones like truth. She didn't know why she trusted him—but she did.
A gust of wind swept through the room, and suddenly, the fire flickered and surged. Liora turned sharply toward it, only to see a figure taking shape in the flames—a shadowed outline with glowing red eyes and curling horns.
Killian moved instantly, shielding her with his body. "Stay behind me," he ordered.
The shadow spoke in a voice that echoed across dimensions. "The bond has awakened. The curse will follow. You cannot run from what was sealed in blood."
Then the fire exploded outward, dousing itself completely and plunging the room into darkness.
Liora's heart was pounding. "What was that?!"
Killian cursed under his breath. "The Keeper of the Rift. A guardian of the curse. They're watching now. They'll be coming for us."
"Us?" Liora echoed.
"You carry the mark. And I carry the curse. Together, we're either a weapon... or a threat."
Later that night, Liora lay on the small bed in the cottage, staring up at the ceiling while the mark on her collarbone glowed faintly, like a second heartbeat.
Everything was changing. Her life had been so normal before Killian arrived—so quiet, so dull. And now, there were shadowy creatures, magical symbols, ancient curses, and one incredibly complicated man who somehow made her feel like the center of the universe.
She turned her head slightly and saw Killian sitting by the window, the moonlight washing over his bare shoulders. He looked like a statue—flawless and carved from mystery.
"Are you going to sit there all night?" she asked quietly.
His eyes flicked toward her, unreadable. "I don't sleep much. Not anymore."
"Because of the curse?"
He nodded. "I see the same memory over and over. The night everything fell apart. The night I was marked."
Liora sat up slowly, clutching the sheet to her chest. "Tell me."
Killian hesitated, then looked back out the window. "I was sixteen. A warlock attacked my family during the Winter Solstice. My mother tried to protect me with a blood spell... but it failed. He bound me instead, locked me in this eternal half-state—part man, part creature, cursed to never age, never love, never belong."
Liora's chest tightened. "That's awful."
He smiled bitterly. "I lived many lifetimes in exile before I felt anything again. Then you appeared."
Her heart skipped. "You mean...?"
"I don't know what it means," Killian admitted. "But when I kissed you, I felt it. The break in the curse. The first crack in the chains."
Silence stretched between them, charged with meaning.
Then, softly, Liora said, "What if we don't fight it? What if we try to figure this out together?"
Killian stood and walked over to her. His fingers reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "If we do this... there's no going back."
She met his gaze, unflinching. "Then we go forward."
And in that moment, something shifted. A promise unspoken. A future unwritten.
But the mark pulsed again—brighter this time.
And far beyond the woods, something ancient stirred.
Liora's breathing slowed as Killian gently helped her to her feet. His eyes, still glowing faintly from his wolf, roamed over her as if confirming she was real and unharmed.
"I thought I lost you," he whispered, voice rough with suppressed emotion. "When you collapsed, I couldn't feel the bond. It felt like my heart stopped beating."
Liora blinked up at him, confused. "Bond? What bond?"
Killian cupped her cheeks gently, brushing his thumb over her skin. "The mate bond. Liora, I felt it the moment you stepped into that cursed forest. I didn't know it was you until we were close… and when I saw you with that mark—" His hand gently touched the faint, glowing sigil on her shoulder, "—I knew."
Her lips parted. "But... I'm not a wolf. I'm cursed. Marked. I'm not supposed to have a mate."
"You are my mate," he said firmly. "I don't care what the curse says, or what magic tries to deny it. The moment I found you, something inside me shifted. You don't need to be a wolf to belong with me. You just need to be you."
Tears welled in her eyes, emotions crashing over her like waves. For so long, she had believed she was alone. Doomed to a lonely fate. And now, this man—this alpha—was looking at her like she was the one thing he had been searching for all his life.
"But the curse," she whispered. "Killian, it's not done with me. I can feel it crawling under my skin. It wants to destroy anything good I touch. What if... what if it uses me to hurt you?"
He leaned down, resting his forehead against hers. "Then we fight it. Together."
Liora closed her eyes, feeling the warmth of his touch seep into her soul. For the first time in years, she felt safe. Not because the danger was gone—but because someone was finally willing to stand beside her, no matter how dark the path became.
The wind rustled through the trees, as if the forest itself was holding its breath. In the distance, a faint howl rose into the night sky—a warning, a summons, or perhaps a threat. Killian stiffened.
"They know," he murmured. "The council. My pack. They'll come for us."
Liora opened her eyes. "To take me away?"
"To take us apart," he said darkly. "They don't believe in exceptions. If they think you're a threat, they'll try to end it."
Liora gripped his shirt tightly, her fingers trembling. "What do we do?"
Killian's eyes blazed. "We run."
He scooped her into his arms, his body already shifting into protective alpha mode. "But we don't run to hide, Liora. We run to fight. We'll find the witch who cursed you. We'll uncover the truth. And I'll burn down every law and tradition that stands in our way."
Liora's heart raced—not from fear, but from the raw power of his promise.
For the first time, she wasn't running away.
She was running toward something.
Toward a future she never thought she'd have.
Toward love.
Toward freedom.
And maybe, just maybe, toward a destiny even the curse couldn't rewrite.