Page 51 of Shifting Hearts

FIVE

Hunting Shadows

Emilia

T he silence between us is sharp. Not awkward or empty. No, it’s loaded, tangible, and suffocating . Every step we take through the woods is a memory we haven’t spoken aloud. A wound we both pretend we can’t feel.

I want to hate him. Goddess, I want to hate him, but hate doesn’t burn like this. Hate doesn’t make my pulse skip when his shoulder brushes mine. Hate doesn’t twist into my gut when he growls low under his breath, every muscle in his back straining against that tight black shirt.

No. This isn’t hate. It’s the bond and it’s lust coiling low in my stomach. The gods-damned, soul-scarring, mate-bond. And it’s eating us alive.

We reach the edge of Crystal Falls just as the first stars blink into existence above the trees. The little town is quiet now, streetlights glowing amber, windows shuttered, and shop doors locked. It should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t.

Lucian stops beside me, his nostrils flaring. “It’s too quiet.”

“There’s no movement in the ether,” I say softly, brushing my palm across the air. “Whoever’s behind this knows how to hide.”

“Or they’ve lived here longer than we think,” he says lowly.

I glance at him. He’s looking at the bakery across the street like it might bite him.

“I’ll tap into the ward lines,” I murmur. “The town’s woven with old protections. I can bend them enough to show us what’s out of place.”

His jaw clenches. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

I smirk. “Are you scared I might burn something down?”

“More scared you’ll burn yourself . ”

My stomach flutters before I can stop it. That’s stupid. He doesn’t give a shit about me. He’s just protecting the witch that’s helping him, that’s all. Pain slices through my heart and I turn away before he can see it.

“Let me work,” I say angrily.

The ritual takes all of ten minutes. I kneel in the center of the crossroad, my fingers splayed on cold pavement, and a small amount of my blood smeared at each corner. The magic hums low in my chest as I chant. Not loud and not dramatic. Just enough to put the ritual into motion.

A shimmer rolls through the street like heat off asphalt and suddenly, the town breathes . Lucian stiffens behind me.

“Do you see it?” I ask.

“I see something ... ”

The shimmer sharpens, showing glowing footprints in the dust, too large to be human. A long smear of dark magic trails from the edge of the lake, winding through alleys, across cobblestones, and back into the woods again.

And woven into that path? A sigil. One I’ve seen before, one that makes my pulse stall.

Lucian’s voice cuts through the haze. “Do you recognize it?”

I nod. “This isn’t just some killer you’re chasing. It’s a damn summoner . ”

He goes still for a long moment. “You said that thing isn’t a full wolf.”

“It isn’t. It was made, summoned.”

“Made with what?”

I look at him, my throat tight as I answer. “With soul magic.”

His eyes darken, anger rolling off him in waves. “That’s forbidden.”

“Tell that to the thing that tried to rip your spine out,” I bite back. “Sorry. I know soul magic is forbidden but that clearly didn’t stop someone from summoning this thing.”

We follow the trail deep into the woods behind the falls.

I keep my energy low, and my spell work shielded. Lucian stalks ahead like a shadow with teeth, his every movement controlled, silent, and deadly. I don’t ask how he moves so quietly for someone his size. I’ve seen him fight before. I know what he is when he’s angry.

And right now? He’s fucking furious . But not at me. No, his anger is aimed at the thing that is hunting us. And at the bond. Perhaps even at himself. Right now, he is angry at everything except me it seems.

The trail stops at the ruins of an old chapel, half-swallowed by ivy and stone. The air here is heavier. Sickness clings to the moss-covered walls like mold. I almost gag from the magical pressure alone.

“This is it,” I whisper. “The summoning site.”

Lucian crouches beside a blackened sigil etched into a rock. “This symbol…”

“Isn’t wolf,” I say, cutting in. “It’s void born . ”

His head snaps up, his gaze connecting with mine. “What the hell does that mean?”

“It means whoever’s behind this has been to places wolves don’t go. Places witches only whisper about.”

His eyes search mine. “Can you stop them?”

“I can try.”

“But?”

I inhale shakily. “But the cost might be more than just blood.”

He frowns but remains silent. Neither of us say as we walk back to town. Not until the lights from the town glow in the distance.

“You should’ve told me,” Lucien says, breaking the silence.

I blink. “Told you what?”

“That you were strong enough to burn this place to the ground.”

I snort. “Would it have changed anything?”

“No.” He stops. Looks down at me. “But I wouldn’t have left thinking you were weak.”

There’s no venom in his voice. Just regret. He sounds old and tired. But for once he also sounds real. And it’s that truth, not the rejection or the pain, that splits something open inside me.

“I didn’t need you to believe I was strong,” I whisper. “I just needed you not to leave.”

He steps closer, heat pouring off him like a damn furnace. His eyes burn with an emotion I can’t place. I can feel the restraint in his bones, the tension in every muscle. I know he wants to close the space between us, and I know he’s fighting it.

And I hate that a part of me wants him to lose the battle.

“Emilia…”

“No,” I say softly, lifting a hand. “Don’t. Not unless you mean it. Not unless you’re ready to face what this bond really means.”

He stares at me for a heartbeat too long before he turns and leaves. Again. But this time, I don’t cry. I just watch the shadows swallow him whole and wonder how much longer either of us can survive pretending we don’t already belong to each other.