The wind stirred the canopy as Lyra sat beside Veyrith's unconscious body, her hands trembling slightly despite the victory. The rush of battle had faded, but her mind still reeled. Her limbs throbbed with soreness, and she could still feel phantom pain where his claws had torn into her. She wiped blood from her face and stared at the beast who had nearly killed her—twice.
"Noxy," she whispered. "What do I do with him now?"
Noxy appeared like a shimmer of mist beside her, her tone thoughtful and calm.
"There are two choices, Lyra. The first: end his life. It would be clean, simple."
Lyra frowned, gaze never leaving the panther. Her hand hovered near her dagger, not quite ready to draw it.
"And the second?"
"Take him under your wing. Bind him to you—not by force, but by a contract."
"A contract?" Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Is that even possible? Wouldn't he just turn on me when he's healed? He's stronger than me."
"Not if you bind him properly. A magical contract is sacred. Once formed, it links both your lives. If he breaks the bond, he dies."
Lyra hesitated. Her fingers tightened on her knees.
"And I assume it works both ways?"
"Yes. You will be bound too. Neither of you can harm the other without consequence."
"But… wouldn't he have to agree?"
"He must. Consent is required. You can't force it. That's why you must wait until he wakes. Ask him. If he refuses… you do what you must."
She looked down at the beast's battered form. His breathing was steady, if labored. She could feel the power in him, still strong even in unconsciousness.
"Then I'll wait," she said softly.
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Time passed. The sun had shifted when Veyrith stirred, groaning low in his throat. His crimson eyes fluttered open and focused on Lyra.
"You didn't kill me," he said, voice hoarse.
"No. I didn't."
He tried to rise, but winced and fell back. His gaze never left hers.
"Why?"
Lyra hesitated again. She drew a slow breath.
"Because I want to offer you a contract. Not as a servant. As a partner."
Veyrith stared at her, eyes narrowing.
"You want me to follow you? The one who nearly killed you with my claws?"
"You're strong. But I defeated you. And I think if you join me… we both become stronger. I don't want another enemy—I want an ally."
"An ally who has to swear loyalty?"
"An ally who has a choice. You can walk away. Or we fight again—and I finish what I started."
He chuckled, a rasping sound in his throat.
"You sound like a conqueror."
"Maybe. Or maybe I'm just someone who doesn't want to waste potential allies."
A silence fell. The leaves rustled in the breeze, filling the space between them.
"What are the terms?"
"You'll follow my lead, so long as it doesn't violate your bottom line. Neither of us can harm or betray the other. I'll provide what you need—food, shelter, rest. And if either of us violates the pact… our body and soul are destroyed. No reincarnation. No second chances."
His eyes narrowed.
"That's a steep price."
"It's not mine. Noxy is the one offering the contract. Even the gods can't break it."
"Noxy…" he muttered, testing the name. "The one who whispered during the fight."
"The one who saved my life more than once. She's… a guide."
"And if I say no?"
Lyra's jaw tightened.
"Then I end this. I don't want to. But I can't risk letting you go free."
Another long silence. Veyrith's eyes studied her face.
"And if I say yes… I get protection, resources, direction?"
"And a purpose. Maybe even redemption."
"I don't need redemption," he growled.
"Then power. Your choice."
He studied her for a long moment. His gaze flicked toward the forest around them, the aftermath of their battle still fresh. Then back to her.
"You've changed. Since the first time."
"So have you."
He was quiet again, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low and steady.
"Very well. I accept. But with conditions."
"I'm listening."
"I will not follow orders that compromise my core principles. I will fight with you, not for you. And I expect to be treated as a comrade—not a tool."
"Done."
"One more thing. If this path leads nowhere, I will leave. I will not chain myself to a cause without substance."
"Then I'll make sure this path leads somewhere."
A shimmering circle of light formed between them as Noxy summoned the pact. Energy rippled through the clearing.
"Speak your names," Noxy said. "Bind your intent."
"I am Lyra," she said. "Weaver of my own fate."
"I am Veyrith," the beast said, voice solemn. "Shadow unbound. I accept this bond."
The light flared—then vanished. The pact was sealed.
"Now," Lyra said, adjusting her position, wincing, "there's something you should know."
Veyrith raised an eyebrow.
"Noxy. She's the one who guides me. You won't see her—but she sees everything."
"The one who made this contract? A spirit?"
"Something like that. But don't ever speak of her. Not to anyone. If you do… well, we're bound now."
"Understood."
He inclined his head slightly, not out of submission, but in acknowledgment.
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Later, as Lyra leaned back against a tree, her body aching with fatigue, she whispered:
"Noxy… what now?"
"Rest. Both of you. You've earned it. The path ahead is long, and it will demand more than strength. But for now—be still."
Lyra closed her eyes, exhaustion washing over her. For the first time since entering the deeper forest, she felt something close to safety.
Veyrith lay beside her, his gaze on the sky above, the contract fresh in his mind.
The forest held its breath.
And for the first time in a long while—so did they.