After the battle, the pack returned to the den—a vast cave hidden beneath the roots of an ancient oak. Wolves limped, growling low in pain, while Kael stood before them, his towering presence keeping them steady.
Aradia followed, out of place, her cloak torn, her hair tangled, but the wolves did not dare touch her. Their gazes lingered, filled with something between awe and suspicion.
"She saved us," one wolf murmured.
"She cursed us," another growled.
Kael silenced them with a single glance. "She is under my protection."
The words echoed through the den, heavy with power.
Later, when the pack slept, Kael found her sitting near the fire, her arms wrapped around her knees.
"You should not be here," she whispered.
"And yet, here you are," he countered, crouching beside her. "You could have run. You could have hidden. But you came for me."
Her eyes flicked to his, glowing faintly in the firelight. "I don't know why."
His hand brushed hers, rough skin against trembling fingers. "Because fate does not ask. It demands."
For a moment, silence stretched between them. His green eyes searched hers, hungry and unyielding. And when his lips brushed against her knuckles, a shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the cold.
Bound by blood. Bound by fire. Bound by something neither of them could escape