Page 14

Kassira

I turn to the High Priestess, arms crossed, spine straight, glare sharp enough to draw blood.

“What did you see?” I ask, voice low. “What do you know?”

She smiles warmly. “You’re very direct. I like that.” But the smile fades as quickly as it came, her voice dropping to a hush. “That bruise… I’ve never seen anything like it on a shifter before. But… I could sense something from it.”

My brows pinch. “What?”

She hesitates for a breath. “Draven is powerful. His body heals instantly. But that bruise… it won’t. I would stake every blessing the Goddess ever gave me that if he gets hurt in that spot, the wound won’t heal.”

The air leaves my lungs instantly. My stomach turns to stone.

“What are you saying?” I whisper. “That if someone stabs him there… he’d die?”

She nods once. Solemn. “Yes. I think so.” She steps closer, eyes shadowed with warning. “And I don’t believe it’s the leash that caused it. I think it’s the hellhound himself.”

The ground shifts beneath me. My pulse kicks into overdrive.

“I think,” she continues softly, “that you may one day be forced to choose — kill Draven… or let the world burn.”

Neris growls so loud in my mind it rattles. “I’ll kill her first! She can’t say that! Let the world burn to ash!”

My hand rises to my throat, dry and tight. “No,” I breathe. “No. I can’t. I won’t kill my mate. That’s insane. What the hell are you talking about?”

Camara doesn’t flinch. She meets my anger with sadness. “I don’t know if it will ever come to that. But the hellhound wouldn’t create such a weakness unless he believed it was possible.”

She reaches out and takes my hand. Her touch is gentle, her eyes kind. “You’re stronger than you think, Kassira. You could survive anything.”

“I’m not strong,” I whisper. “I don’t even know why I was chosen to be his mate. Draven is the one who’s strong. I’m…” My voice cracks. “I’m the kind of wolf a teenage pup could take down with one swipe.”

Camara studies me. No pity in her gaze, only certainty.

“Strength isn’t always in the body. Draven has that part covered.

But your strength… it’s in your mind. In your instincts.

That’s what he needs. You balance him. That’s what true mates do.

They complete each other — not compete with one another. ”

Her words hit something tender inside of me. Six months of silence, six months of feeling like I wasn’t enough… and I started to believe it. I forgot that I don’t need to have unusual powers in order to be enough.

I exhale slowly. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank her!” Neris snaps. “She wants us to kill our mate, remember? We don’t thank people like that, Kass!”

My smile fades. My spine straightens again.

“I still won’t kill my mate,” I say, voice like steel. “Not for the world. Not for anyone.”

The moment I step out of the room, I grab Draven’s hand and start walking fast. No words. I don’t know where I’m going, only that I need to move. Need to put space between us and what the Priestess said.

“Kass?” he asks, confused, falling into step beside me. “What did she say? What did you two talk about?”

I don’t answer. I need to take him somewhere safe.

“Kassira?”

His voice sharpens. He digs his heels in. Comes to a full stop.

I tug on his hand, but he doesn’t budge. Stupid mountain of muscle!

“Please,” I say, barely above a whisper. “Just come with me. I need you to.”

He studies me for a beat — eyes narrowing, gaze cutting straight through me. Then, with a nod, he lets me pull him again, matching my steps.

It isn’t until we’re standing inside the library, the door clicking shut behind us, that I realize where I’ve taken him.

The silence inside is thick. Heavy with words I’m not ready to say. I turn toward him and without a word, I wrap my arms around his waist and hold on like the world might end if I let go.

He freezes for a heartbeat. Then, slowly, his arms come around me. Strong. Steady. His chin rests gently on top of my head. He doesn’t speak. Just waits. Quiet and patient. Exactly what I need.

I press my ear to his chest. His heart beats strong and sure beneath my cheek. Alive. Steady. As it should be. As it must remain. He can’t die. Not for me. Not because of me. Not ever.

He still has groveling to do. He owes me that. He owes me a lifetime.

Neris is silent in my head, but I feel her grief coiling deep, her anxiety trembling close to tears. She’s terrified. Just like me.

My voice barely rises above the hush between us. “Did you ever take her flying?”

It’s absolutely not the thing I should be talking about right now. But I can’t say the other things. Not yet.

“No,” he answers. Quiet. Honest. “I never took anyone else flying.”

Something inside me settles at that. It shouldn’t matter. But it does. That witch took so much from both of us — but she didn’t take this.

I look up at him. Right into those stormy eyes. So full of questions. Of unspoken promises.

His hand lifts, thumb brushing over my cheek, gentle as a breeze. “Are you okay?” he murmurs.

No. Not even close.

I can’t answer him. The words won’t come.

I feel the walls closing in, I feel time running out for us.

And it hurts that he’s not the bad guy I thought he was.

It hurts that he’s not the monster I spent six months screaming at in my head. Not the cold, heartless villain I blamed for every sleepless night, every aching breath.

It hurts that he’s actually a good man who fell victim to evil.

And I wish — gods, the dark part of me wishes he were the cruel bastard I thought him to be. Because then… losing him wouldn’t hurt.

But he’s not. He’s clumsy. Hopeful. Quietly fierce. Loving. Paranoid as hell. And he’s mine.

And I’m ready to fight for him. Neris, too.

So I rise on my toes and kiss him. Just a brush of lips. A silent plea. A selfish want. I need to feel him. Need to hold this moment, for however long it lasts.

He stills. His breath catches. But he doesn’t pull away. He lets me linger. And then he’s there, answering.

His arms wrap around me and pull me close. His mouth moves over mine, deeper now — the fire in his blood pouring into mine, igniting something that steals the air from my lungs.

And then — sparks.

Everywhere.

My skin burns with them, my chest snaps tight, and I gasp into his mouth as something inside me stitches itself back together.

The bond. Alive. Again.

He exhales, the sound laced with relief, and I feel the curve of his smile against my lips.

Neris sighs in my head, rolling onto her back, tongue lolling, tail wagging like she’s floating on clouds.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, fingers threading gently through my hair. He kisses me again. Slower. Like he has all the time in the world. Like we’re not running out of it.

I pull back, just enough to breathe. “The Priestess said I might have to kill you.”

He blinks. His brows draw together. “Well.” He exhales. “That’s one hell of a way to kill the mood, isn’t it?”

A small laugh escapes me — sharp and bitter — and I drop my forehead against his chest. “She said that bruise… it might be a weak point. That if you’re struck there, you might not heal.”

His arms tighten around me. “Then I won’t let anything touch it,” he murmurs. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”

But we both know careful may not be enough.

It’s only two weeks later that we get the news: Alpha Parrin of the Mirenwulf Pack is dead.

“I have to go,” Draven says, voice low, distant. “He was a Prime. As King, I need to be there. It's my duty.”

I sit beside him in his office, cold dread pooling in my stomach. It feels like watching someone walk to their own funeral. We’re not any closer to breaking the leash. We’re not any closer to real answers.

“I feel like it’s a trap,” I whisper.

“I know,” he says.

He reaches for me, pulling me gently into his lap. I don’t resist. His arms wrap around me like armor, and the tightness in my chest loosens just a little.

Ever since my side of the bond flared back to life, everything between us has shifted. We're closer. Warmer. But still cautious, like two people dancing at the edge of a cliff, afraid of what might happen if they fall.

He spoke to his uncle about the midwife who attended his birth.

The only outsider who had access to him in those vulnerable first days.

She had dark hair, was tall, soft-spoken.

Her name might’ve been Cerella — I’m sure that wasn’t even her real name and that she wore a magical disguise.

His uncle didn’t know how Draven’s mother met the woman or where she came from.

Of course he wouldn’t, there was no reason for him to know details of the midwife his sister was going to use.

I have this gnawing feeling in my gut. Like the end is near.

And neither of us knows how it’s going to end.

And the cruelest part? I’ve started falling for him.

Maybe I already had — even before the bond returned.

But now I live in this agonizing limbo where I want to move further with him but I’m too afraid to do it. Not until I know the danger is gone.

Neris, on the other hand, has no such thoughts. She already decided she just wants her mate, danger or not. She wants him completely. His love, his mark, his vows, his name on our skin. Danger be damned.

I’m the one holding us back. Maybe I should just follow her instincts. Well, not the marking part. Draven made a good point with that one, I wouldn’t want to find myself suddenly infected with the kind of magic that is keeping him leashed.

I tilt my head up and whisper, “Draven…”

He looks down at me, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “You said my name.”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Throw yourself a parade later.”

I pause, my voice quieting. “I have to come with you to Mirenwulf. You can’t be away from me that long — the magic will get stronger. You’ll forget me again.”

I lift a hand and trace his jaw with slow movements.