The forest hummed with danger.
Seraphina's pulse still hadn't slowed from the escape. Every heartbeat was a thunderclap in her chest, echoing against the trees. The night smelled of blood, smoke, and the lingering magic that pulsed between her and Fenris — faint but undeniable, like a tether neither of them could see yet both could feel.
He was standing a few feet away, his silver eyes scanning the darkness. Even half-hidden in shadow, he looked carved from moonlight and wrath — every line of him coiled tight, alert, dangerous. His shirt was torn where claws had ripped through it, revealing the dark tattoos etched across his collarbone — runes that glowed faintly, alive with ancient power.
Seraphina swallowed hard, forcing herself to look away. "They won't stop hunting us."
"They never do," he said quietly. "Not until one of us is dead."
The calm in his voice chilled her more than the night air. "You sound like you've accepted that."
"I accepted my death the day the curse marked me." He turned toward her then, eyes catching the moonlight. "But I didn't expect you."
She frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"That you'd make dying feel like something I should fight against."
The words hit her harder than she wanted to admit. She looked away, pretending to adjust her cloak. "Don't say things like that."
"Why? Because they make you feel something?" His tone was sharper now, almost accusing. "Or because you don't want to admit you already do?"
Seraphina's hands clenched at her sides. "Don't twist my feelings, Fenris. You don't know me."
"I know the way your pulse changes when I'm close." He took a slow step toward her. "The bond doesn't lie."
"The bond isn't real," she hissed, backing away until her back hit a tree. "It's a curse, remember? You said it yourself."
He stopped only inches from her, his breath brushing her cheek. "A curse doesn't burn this way."
The silence that followed was suffocating — heavy with everything they weren't saying. Seraphina wanted to shove him away, to scream, to do anything but feel the warmth that flared between them like wildfire. But she couldn't. Her blood thrummed with it.
She hated it.
She hated him for making her feel alive in a moment she should be terrified.
Before she could speak, a sound broke the tension — the faint rustle of movement deeper in the forest. Fenris immediately went still, his head snapping toward the noise. His nostrils flared.
"Not hunters," he murmured, voice low. "Something else."
Seraphina gripped her dagger. "How can you tell?"
"The air shifts when they're near." He crouched slightly, his senses sharp, his tone hushed. "Stay behind me."
"Don't start that again," she muttered, but still, she moved closer, shoulder brushing his arm.
Then the forest exploded with motion.
Figures emerged from the mist — not armored like the Blood Hunters, but cloaked in dark robes, their faces hidden behind bone masks. They carried staffs instead of blades, each one etched with glowing red sigils.
"Wraithborn," Fenris growled. "They serve the Tribunal."
Seraphina froze. "Necromancers?"
"Worse," he said grimly. "They bind souls."
One of the masked figures raised a hand, and the ground trembled. From the soil, skeletal hands clawed upward, dragging themselves into grotesque shapes. The stench of rot filled the air.
Seraphina's stomach twisted. "Please tell me you can handle them."
Fenris's fangs glinted as he smirked. "I can handle anything."
Before she could respond, he lunged forward. His claws slashed through the first wraithborn, breaking the staff in half before the creature could finish its spell. Shadows exploded outward, and Seraphina was forced to duck as shards of bone whizzed past her face.
But there were too many.
Three more stepped from the mist, chanting in unison. The air grew heavy, the forest dimming as their magic coiled together, forming a swirling vortex of blood-red light.
"Fenris!" she shouted.
He looked up just in time to see the spell take shape — a spear of pure energy aimed directly at him.
Without thinking, Seraphina thrust her hand forward, calling on instinct rather than training. The air crackled. Power surged through her veins, hot and wild. A barrier of light burst from her palm, intercepting the spear mid-flight. It shattered like glass, scattering fragments of crimson light across the forest floor.
For a moment, everything was silent.
Fenris turned toward her, his eyes wide. "You—"
"I don't know how I did that," she gasped, staring at her trembling hands. They glowed faintly, pulsing with silver light that matched the markings of their pact.
He stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. "You channeled the bond."
"I didn't mean to!"
"Doesn't matter," he said, his voice reverent and rough. "You just saved my life."
The wraithborn screeched, the sound inhuman. "The blood calls!" one of them hissed. "The bond awakens!"
"Fenris," Seraphina whispered, "what are they talking about?"
But he didn't answer — he was already moving, faster than her eyes could follow. He tore through another necromancer, ripping the mask away to reveal a face that looked almost human… until it dissolved into ash.
Seraphina fought beside him, her movements guided by something ancient, something instinctive. Every time she swung her blade, it felt as though unseen forces moved with her — the bond amplifying her strength, sharpening her senses.
Together, they were unstoppable.
When the last wraithborn fell, silence reclaimed the forest. The ground was littered with broken masks and cracked bones. Seraphina's breath came in ragged bursts, her heart pounding, her dagger slick with dark ichor.
Fenris turned to her, his face streaked with dirt and blood, but his eyes still gleaming silver. "You did well."
"I nearly died twice."
"And you still stood your ground." He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "You're stronger than you think."
She scoffed, though her cheeks flushed. "Don't flatter me."
"It's not flattery," he said. "It's truth."
For a moment, they just stood there — surrounded by ruin and silence. The moonlight filtered through the trees, bathing them in pale silver. The glow of the pact between them flickered faintly again, like a heartbeat.
Seraphina felt it hum inside her chest, deep and steady. The connection was growing, and that terrified her more than any monster.
"Fenris…" she began, her voice soft. "If this bond is awakening, what happens when it completes?"
He didn't answer immediately. His gaze dropped to the faint shimmer where her skin met his, where the pact mark still lingered beneath the surface.
"When it completes," he said finally, "we'll share more than blood. Our fates will merge. Our magic, our pain… even our lives."
Her breath caught. "You mean if you die—"
"Then so do you."
The weight of that truth sank in like ice water. Seraphina looked away, swallowing hard. "That's not a fate I asked for."
"Neither did I," he said softly. "But maybe it's the one we need."
She shook her head, refusing to let the tremor in her voice show. "You don't get to decide that."
"Neither do you," he countered. "Fate already has."
Before she could argue, the distant sound of horns echoed through the forest — the hunters' signal.
Fenris tensed. "They're regrouping. We need to move."
She nodded, though her legs felt weak. "Where?"
"There's an abandoned keep north of here," he said. "Old Fae ruins. The Tribunal won't step foot there."
"And what if it's a trap?"
He glanced at her, a small, humorless smile tugging at his lips. "Then we set it ourselves."
Seraphina couldn't help but laugh — a soft, breathless sound she hadn't realized she was holding. "You're insane."
"Maybe," he said, stepping past her, "but I'm still alive."
As they disappeared deeper into the forest, the wind whispered through the trees, carrying faint echoes of forgotten magic. The bond pulsed once more between them — stronger this time, like it was no longer content to be silent.
Seraphina touched her chest where the glow lingered, a strange ache curling beneath her skin.
Bound by blood.
Bound by fate.
And with every step she took beside him…
She wasn't sure which frightened her more — the curse that hunted them, or the destiny that awaited when the bond finally claimed them both.