That night, the den was restless. Wolves sharpened claws, whispered strategies, prepared for the coming war. But Kael and Aradia withdrew into the shadows, needing only each other.
He pulled her into the furs, his body wrapping around hers, his lips tracing the curve of her throat. His touch was rough, claiming, but beneath it was devotion that made her tremble.
"Say it," he growled softly against her skin.
Her breath shuddered. "Say what?"
"That you are mine. In fire. In shadow. In every life."
Her fire flared, her body arching into his. "I am yours. Always."
His green eyes burned, fierce and unyielding. "Then hear me, witch. I will not let the shadow take you. I will not let death steal you. If I must burn the world to keep you, I will."
Tears slipped down her cheeks as she kissed him, her fire wrapping around them in a crown of gold. Their bodies twined, passion and vow indistinguishable, until the den itself seemed to tremble with their bond.
That night, it was not just desire. It was an oath, sealed in flesh and flame, that no power—not shadow, not fate—could sever.