Fire-water turned to ice the moment it touched the collar—cracking, re-freezing, sealing Kade's scream inside his ribs.
Chains held him to the chair; lake held the chair to the dark.
Pressure crushed ears, chest, thought.
Lily's silhouette drifted past—hair like silver smoke, eyes closed.
He strained toward her; silver bit bone.
Bubbles escaped his mouth, rose, vanished.
Above, daylight was a wavering coin he couldn't reach.
The collar tightened another notch—click that vibrated through skull.
Victor's body swept by, throat cut, eyes still red and aware.
He grabbed Kade's wrist, nails slicing skin already raw.
A voice slithered inside Kade's head—Victor's voice, cold oil. "Silver for silver, heart for heart. Drown with me."
Kade snarled water, kicked Victor away.
Current slammed them into stone.
Victor's grip loosened; lake snatched him into black.
Collar burned hotter—branding flesh.
Kade's vision tunneled.
Through the narrowing, he saw Lily's hand drift close—fingers open, reaching.
He lunged, shoulder dislocating against chain.
Their fingertips brushed—skin to skin, mate-bond sparking underwater.
The spark flared white—cracked ice collar from clasp to hinge.
Metal snapped.
Chains on wrists loosened.
He ripped free, ankles next, lungs screaming.
He caught Lily around the waist, kicked toward the coin of light.
Lake fought—hands of water dragging, pulling.
He kicked harder, heart hammering steel against ribs.
Light widened, bright as moon.
He broke surface—gasped air that knifed lungs.
Flames licked water around him—diesel fire, orange and hungry.
He held Lily's face above waves, treading through burning foam.
Shore was fifty meters of smoke and heat.
He swam one-armed, each stroke a battle.
A beam of torchlight found them.
Voices shouted.
"Rope!" the elder yelled.
Line sailed, landed across Kade's shoulder.
He gripped it, looped under Lily's arms.
Wolves on shore hauled.
They slid through fire, clothes singeing.
Hands dragged them onto rocky bank.
Kade rolled Lily onto her side, pressed water from lungs.
She coughed once, weak.
He breathed into her, taste of lake and ash.
Another cough—stronger.
Her eyes fluttered open, met his—gold on silver.
Relief crashed over him, buckling his arms.
He collapsed beside her, coughing smoke.
The elder knelt, checking pulses. "Alive. Stay with them."
He stood, directing wolves to beat flames with blankets.
Overhead, dawn bled pale across smoke.
Kade's throat felt seared; every breath scraped.
He touched Lily's neck—no collar, only bruises shaped like silver teeth.
She whispered, "You came."
He brushed hair from her brow. "Always."
Behind, the lake hissed, flames dying under buckets and earth.
Steam rose in ghost-columns.
Through one column, a figure walked—barefoot, shirt torn, hair dripping.
Victor.
Throat unmarked, eyes glowing red.
He stopped at water's edge, smiled, placed a finger to his lips—shhh.
Then he pointed at Kade's wrist.
Kade looked—silver burn in perfect circle, collar-shaped, pulsing faint light.
Victor's voice slithered inside his head again: "Chain's gone, brand remains. I rise with the moon."
He stepped backward into steam, vanished.
Kade's heart hammered.
Lily touched the brand. "What is it?"
He couldn't speak.
The elder approached, saw the mark, face hardening. "Claim scar. He's latched to your pulse."
Kade's voice came rough. "How do we kill a ghost?"
The elder's answer was slow. "Find the bones. Burn before moonrise. Fail—he owns your skin."
Kade looked west—moon-set hours away.
He stood, legs shaking. "Then dig."
Wolves scattered, searching shoreline.
Kade joined, shovel in hand, every strike of metal on stone echoing like a clock.
Lily worked beside him, weak but stubborn.
They uncovered rocks, reeds, broken telescope parts.
No bones.
Sun climbed higher, time bleeding.
The brand on Kade's wrist throbbed in rhythm with his heart—faster, hotter.
He dug harder, dirt flying.
Lily's shovel hit something solid—a pipe, not bone.
She tossed it aside, kept going.
Sweat stung his eyes; smoke taste returned with each breath.
The elder checked the sun. "Two hours."
Kade's shovel scraped metal again—different.
He knelt, brushed soil.
A small steel box, locked, MARWOOD INDUSTRIES stamped on lid.
He pried with claws; lid popped.
Inside—ashes. Human. A single red tie-clip rested on top.
Victor's.
Kade's stomach turned. "Cremated. No bones to burn."
The elder's face paled. "Ghost bound to dust. No fire can touch what's already flame."
Lily gripped Kade's arm. "Then we bind it another way."
She pulled the scorched silver key from her pocket—the one that once opened house doors, now blackened.
She pressed the key against the brand.
Pain lanced Kade's wrist; he gritted teeth.
Smoke rose—key melting into the burn, sealing circle, turning brand from silver to iron-black.
Victor's scream echoed inside Kade's skull—rage, then silence.
The burn cooled, became scar—ordinary, lifeless.
Kade exhaled, shaky. "Gone?"
Lily touched the scar. "Caged."
The elder smiled grim. "For now."
Around, wolves relaxed, dropping shovels.
Sun climbed, warm, real.
Kade pulled Lily close, forehead to hers. "Home?"
She nodded.
They walked toward the trucks, hand in hand, twins running to meet them.
Behind, the lake lay calm, steam thinning to nothing.
No red eyes. No collar. Only water and morning.
They reached the vehicles.
Sage handed out coffee cups. Steam curled, smelling of normal.
Kade sipped, taste returning.
He looked at the sky—clear, blue, safe.
He helped Lily into the cab, twins scrambling after.
Doors shut.
Engine turned.
He glanced in the rear-view mirror—lake shrinking, road ahead.
He smiled, reached for Lily's hand.
Behind the mirror glass, a tiny red dot blinked once—collar-shaped, watching.
Then the dot moved—slid across the mirror, vanishing into the reflection of his own pupil.
His smile froze.
The truck rolled on, sun bright, world quiet.
Inside his reflection, the dot opened—became a silver mouth.
It whispered only he could hear: "Moonrise, old friend."
Kade's hand tightened on the wheel.
The road stretched empty.
The reflection smiled without him.