I didn't expect to see him again.
Ruvan.
After what I did, he should've vanished into the wilds and never looked back. The mark I left wasn't gentle. It wasn't meant to be. It was vengeance—wild, reckless, and half-mad.
But he came anyway.
And not quietly.
It started with the wolves.
Three of Kaelen's scouts were found near the border, torn and half-shifted, their bodies dumped in a circle of ash. No scent trail. No witnesses. Just blood on the bark and a single word carved into the dirt beneath their twitching claws:
"Mine."
Kaelen lost his mind.
The mark on my neck pulsed with his rage. He stormed through the compound like a beast unchained, barking orders, summoning trackers, threatening to raze every border village to the ground.
But I knew better.
This wasn't a declaration of war.
It was a message.
To me.
-
By midday, I was summoned again—this time not by Kaelen, but by the council.
Six elders seated in judgment, each more wrinkled and silver-eyed than the last, cloaked in ceremonial fur and self-righteous fury.
"You have invoked ancient magic," said Elder Thorne, voice as brittle as his bones.
"Dual bonds are forbidden."
"Tell that to the Alpha," I muttered. "He didn't ask for mine either."
Thorne's eyes narrowed.
"He is the Alpha. You are a female of no rank."
"I'm his equal now," I said, chin lifting. "Or did the second bond not tell you that?"
Gasps. A cough.
Even Thorne looked rattled.
"You carry power you do not understand."
"Then maybe you should've taught me before he took me."
The room fell silent.
Because that was the truth no one wanted to speak: Kaelen had forced a mark. And the council had let it happen.
Why? Because he was heir. Because he was strong. Because tradition made monsters look like kings.
And now the monster was bleeding.
"What would you have us do?" another elder asked softly.
"Nothing," I said. "I'll handle it."
"You'll die."
"Maybe. But I'll die free."
I left them shaken.
And I almost made it to the tree line before Kaelen found me.
"What the hell are you playing at, Eira?"
"You tell me. You left a scar on my neck and thought I'd bow."
"You belong to me."
"Not anymore."
"You think Ruvan will protect you?" he snapped. "He'll use you. Break you. He was cast out for a reason."
"So were you," I said. "The difference is no one had the guts to follow through."
That did it.
Kaelen's hand clenched around my arm. His breath flared, and for a second I thought he'd shift right there in front of me.
But then—
A growl.
Not his.
Behind us.
Low. Cold. Ancient.
Kaelen turned.
And froze.
Ruvan stood at the edge of the clearing.
Shirt half-buttoned. Blood on his hands. And not his.
His wolf eyes—silver-bright and wild—locked on Kaelen like he was prey.
Then he looked at me.
And the wind shifted.
"You came," I said, breath catching.
He didn't answer me.
He walked straight up to Kaelen.
Close enough to kill.
But he didn't draw a blade.
He just said—
"Touch her again, and I'll take your hand."
Kaelen laughed.
The tension snapped like a whip.
"You really think you can beat me, brother?"
"I already did," Ruvan said. "You just didn't survive long enough to realize it."
"Then prove it," Kaelen growled.
"Gladly."
And just like that, the Challenge was set.
Talia lost her mind when I told her.
"You realize one of them's going to die, right?"
"That's the point," I said.
"Do you even care which?"
I hesitated.
And that was the problem.
Because I did.
Just not in the way she meant.
Ruvan didn't stay with the pack. Not even after Kaelen threw down the duel.
He returned to the shadow lands—those ruins between territories where no one claimed dominion. Where rogues and ghosts and secrets lived.
But he left something behind.
Me.
The mark pulsed differently now. Not just heat.
Longing.
A hunger that wasn't entirely mine.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw him.
Not in some magical dream bond sort of way. No. Just… images.
The way his hand had brushed my shoulder before he walked away.
The way his eyes had softened when Kaelen gripped my arm.
The low growl that hadn't been for Kaelen, but for me.
Protective. Possessive. Real.
And then came the letter.
Delivered by a black-feathered raven with a red ribbon tied to its leg.
Unmarked. No signature.
Just three words.
"Come to me."
I didn't hesitate.
-
I found him by moonlight.
In an abandoned shrine deep in the woods. Moss-covered stone, the air thick with fog and magic, wildflowers poking through shattered marble.
He sat on the edge of a ruined altar, one knee drawn up, shirt open, skin scarred but warm under the torchlight.
"You came," he said.
"You asked."
"I wasn't sure you would."
"I wasn't sure either."
A pause.
Then—
"I needed to see you," he said, quietly.
"Why?"
He didn't answer right away.
He just looked at me.
And I felt it.
The bond. The pull. Not forceful—just… real.
Like gravity.
"Because if I die in three nights," he said, "I want to remember what it was like to want something again."
I stepped closer.
"And if you don't die?"
He looked at my lips.
"Then you'll have to decide if you can want me back."
The air between us pulsed.
Tension. Flame. Need.
But he didn't touch me.
Not yet.
"Kaelen will come at you like a storm," I whispered. "He doesn't fight fair."
"Neither do I."
"He won't stop."
"Then I'll make him."
I should've walked away.
Should've left it at that—his defiance, my revenge, our shared ruin.
But I didn't.
Instead, I leaned in.
And kissed him.
Not gently.
Not like a promise.
Like a claim.
His hand tangled in my hair, the other gripping my waist, and for a moment it felt like the world held its breath.
Then he pulled back.
Just barely.
"This isn't safe," he whispered.
"Good," I breathed. "I'm done being safe."