Page 28

CALLUM

M orning light streamed through the cabin’s shutters, soft and dappled, drifting over tangled blankets and pale limbs.

Callum woke first, as he always did, instinct tugging him to consciousness before the sun had fully climbed.

But this dawn felt different, peaceful in a way he hadn’t tasted since childhood.

Cora lay curled against his side, hair a pale spill across his chest. Her freckles stood out against fair skin still flushed from the fire they’d shared the night before.

One hand rested over his heart, fingers twitching slightly each time he exhaled.

A smile ghosted over her lips, and every time she breathed in, she sighed like the world was safe.

He studied her, letting the quiet sink deep. Pine smoke lingered from the banked hearth, mingling with the lilac-and-skin scent that now lived on his sheets. His lion stretched lazy under his skin, finally content.

He brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. She stirred, eyes blinking open, green as fresh leaves and still heavy with sleep. A smile bloomed when she saw him.

“Hey,” she whispered, voice husky.

“Hey, yourself.” His thumb traced the soft plane of her cheekbone. “Sleep alright?”

“Better than alright.” She shifted, pressing a light kiss to his collarbone. “Feels like the nightmares forgot my name.”

He swallowed the lump in his throat, marveling at how a single sentence could both warm and gut him. “Good. They’re not welcome here.”

She settled back, head on his chest, fingers drawing lazy patterns along his ribs. “Does this mean I’m allowed to stay?”

“As long as you want.” His voice came out low and rough with honesty. “But I need to patrol in a bit. Dawn report.”

“I know. Ranger duties.” She stretched like a cat, blanket sliding to her waist. “Let me make breakfast.”

“You’ll burn the cabin down,” he teased, already sliding from the bed.

She tossed a pillow at him. “One toast incident and I’m branded for life. I can’t believe Miriam told you that.”

He caught the pillow, laughing softly. “Stay. I’ll handle food.”

He tugged on worn jeans and a faded shirt, then padded to the stove.

While coffee brewed, he scrambled eggs, added wild mushrooms he’d foraged yesterday.

Cora wrapped herself in the blanket and joined him, leaning against the counter, hair a golden halo in the morning light.

They ate standing close, stealing bites, bumping shoulders. Domesticity felt strange and perfect.

After dishes were rinsed, he tugged on boots, strapped his ranger blade to his hip. “I’ll sweep the northern ridge, check ward stones. Be back before midday.”

Cora frowned, foot tapping. “The northern ridge is close to the Forgotten Cut.”

“Exactly why I’m going.” He brushed a kiss across her forehead. “Stay here. Rest.”

She opened her mouth to protest.

He narrowed his eyes. “Promise me.”

She sighed. “Fine.”

He lingered at the doorway, gaze tracing her in the glow of the cabin. Something inside whispered that leaving was a mistake, but duty called louder. “Lock the door.”

“Go, Captain Cross,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

The trail felt wrong the moment he stepped under the pines.

Birds stayed silent. Squirrel chatter went still.

The Veil hummed off-key, a vibration beneath the soil that rattled his teeth.

He pushed faster, boots pounding the mossy path.

At the first ward stone, the runes flickered red instead of silver.

“Damn.”

A second stone further on glowed the same sick color, thin cracks spidering over its surface. His gut twisted. Blood magic. Fresh.

He broke into a run.

At the rise overlooking Hollow Oak’s northern barrier, he saw it: a tear in the Veil, jagged and pulsing crimson, like someone had clawed reality open. And in front of it stood a figure cloaked in black, arms outstretched, hands coated in swirling red sigils.

Callum’s heart pounded. He knew without ever seeing him before. Elric.

The warlock’s head turned, as if he sensed the lion’s presence. Pale hair spilled over a sharp face. Black eyes glinted like oil on water. A slow smile curved his lips.

“Easy, beast,” Elric called, voice carrying on a wind that smelled of ash. “I’m only here for what’s mine.”

The Veil hissed, sparks of red lightning spitting from the tear, singeing the ground. Callum felt the forest recoil.

His lion surged, claws itching to rip. He stepped forward, hand on the hilt of his blade. “Back off this land, warlock. Last warning.”

Elric laughed. “You think you can stop me? I forged the chain tying your little fae to my will long before this town tucked her under your paw.”

Callum’s pulse thundered. He opened his mouth but a soft gasp behind him froze the words.

Cora.

She stood halfway down the slope, green dress from last night fluttering in the sinister wind, cheeks paled with horror. She must’ve followed minutes after he’d left. Her eyes locked on Elric, then on the glowing wound in the Veil. Fear warred with anger on her face.

Callum’s blood chilled. “I told you to stay at the cabin.”

“I couldn’t,” she whispered, voice shaking.

Elric’s smile widened into something feral. “There you are, dove.”

Callum stepped sideways, blocking her with his body. Power coiled under his skin; he felt his eyes flash amber. “You’re done talking to her.”

Elric lifted his hands. Blood dripped from his palms, feeding the crackling tear behind him. The ground shook, roots splitting the soil like snakes. “I barely started.”

Cora moved to Callum’s side, fingers brushing his arm. “It’s okay,” she lied for both of them. “I’m not his.”

Elric’s laugh turned sharp. “A claim doesn’t vanish because you wish it so. The stone altar waits. The Veil knows. And I will have what is mine.”

The wound in the barrier widened with a roar, a tidal wave of red light. Callum braced, pushing Cora behind him. The energy battered against his chest like a physical blow. He dug his boots into the earth, every instinct screaming to protect.

But his lion wasn’t enough to mend a broken Veil.

Cora’s magic flickered at his back, gold sparks dancing from her fingertips. She was ready to fight. Ready to burn through every last ounce of power if it meant stopping Elric.

He couldn’t let her.

He risked a glance over his shoulder and saw tears sliding down her cheeks, pain and fury and helpless love all twisted together.

Elric raised his hands higher. “Choose, fae. Come willingly, or I drag this whole town into the Cut.”

Callum snarled. “Over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” Elric purred.

The Veil split with a crack like shattering glass.

Callum lunged forward.

Cora screamed his name.

Red light swallowed the ridge.

And then darkness slammed into him.