The forest did not release us easily.

Even after the echoes vanished, even after the unnatural silence settled back into the spaces between the trees, the air remained taut—as though it were holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next. I knelt where I had fallen, palms pressed to the damp earth, my body trembling in the aftermath of something I didn’t yet have words for.

My skin still burned.

Not painfully—not anymore—but with a lingering warmth that pulsed in time with my heartbeat, radiating outward from the mark beneath my collarbone. I could feel it even without touching it, a low thrum of awareness that made every sensation sharper, clearer, too vivid to ignore. The night smelled different now, layered with meanings I’d never noticed before: crushed leaves, old blood, Kael’s lingering scent threaded through it all like a living thing.

He stood a few paces away, rigid as stone.

Kael’s face had lost its usual cold composure. Whatever mask he wore so effortlessly in front of the pack had cracked, revealing something raw and unguarded beneath. His eyes—still faintly glowing in the moonlight—never left me, tracking every small movement as if I were something wild that might bolt at any second.

“You shouldn’t be conscious,” he said quietly.

I lifted my head, meeting his gaze despite the tremor in my limbs. “I’m not exactly known for doing what I should.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, though the expression didn’t quite reach his eyes. He stepped closer, then stopped abruptly, as if an invisible line barred him from approaching further.

“What you did out here,” he said, his voice low and careful, “has never happened before.”

My throat tightened. “You say that like it’s bad news.”

“It is,” he replied without hesitation. Then, more softly, “And it isn’t.”

I pushed myself to my feet, swaying slightly before I found my balance. The forest seemed closer now, less distant—every tree and shadow part of a larger whole I was suddenly aware of. It was unsettling and intoxicating all at once.

“What did that voice mean?” I asked. “The one I heard.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “You heard it clearly?”

“Yes.”

“How many words?”

“Just one,” I said, frowning. “Finally.”

His breath left him in a slow, controlled exhale. “That’s more than enough.”

He closed the distance between us in two long strides, stopping just short of touching me. The heat between us flared instantly, the fractured bond responding with a painful, aching pull that made my chest tighten.

“You need to come back to the pack,” he said. “Now.”

“What about the echoes?” I asked. “You said they were testing the boundary.”

“They got what they came for,” he said grimly. “Confirmation.”

“Of what?”

“That you’re real.”

A chill slid down my spine. “I don’t like the sound of that.”

“You shouldn’t,” he said. “Which is why you’ll be under my protection from now on.”

I let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Your protection is the reason I’m like this.”

His eyes darkened. “My protection is the reason you’re alive.”

The words struck deeper than I expected. I opened my mouth to argue, then closed it again as a wave of dizziness washed over me. Kael noticed instantly, his hand shooting out to steady me before he could stop himself.

The contact sent a jolt through us both.

His fingers burned where they wrapped around my arm, the bond flaring sharply in response. I gasped, instinctively gripping his sleeve as my knees threatened to buckle.

Kael froze.

For a heartbeat, neither of us moved. The air between us felt charged, thick with something unspoken and dangerous. His scent enveloped me completely now, drowning out everything else, and I became acutely aware of how close we were—how easily he could pull me against him, how natural it would feel to lean into his strength.

He didn’t.

Slowly, deliberately, he loosened his grip and stepped back, breaking the contact with visible effort.

“This is why I rejected you,” he said hoarsely. “Every time I touch you, it makes it harder to stop.”

“To stop what?” I whispered.

His gaze locked onto mine, intense and unyielding. “To stop myself from finishing what the bond started.”

The admission sent heat curling low in my stomach, tangled with fear and something dangerously close to longing.

We made the rest of the walk back to the pack in silence.

By the time we reached the outer boundary, the first hints of dawn were creeping into the sky, washing the world in pale gray light. The pack stirred as we passed through—guards straightening, whispers spreading quickly as eyes followed us.

They could sense it.

Whatever had happened in the forest had changed something fundamental about me, and the wolves around us reacted instinctively, some with curiosity, others with thinly veiled unease.

The healer was waiting when we arrived, her expression tightening the moment she saw me.

“Inside,” she said briskly. “Both of you.”

The den felt smaller than before, the stone walls pressing in as the healer ushered me toward the low table in the center. Kael remained near the entrance, arms crossed, his posture protective despite the distance he insisted on keeping.

“Remove the cloak,” the healer instructed.

My hands shook as I obeyed, pushing the fabric aside to expose the mark beneath my collarbone. It had spread since the forest, branching outward in delicate, luminous lines that pulsed faintly with each beat of my heart.

The healer sucked in a sharp breath.

“This is impossible,” she murmured.

Kael moved instantly, closing the gap between us. “What is it?”

She looked up at him slowly. “It’s a moonmark.”

The word hung heavy in the air.

“That’s a myth,” he said flatly.

“So was your shadow wolf,” she replied.

My pulse quickened. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” the healer said carefully, “that her wolf was never dormant. It was bound.”

“Bound by whom?” I asked.

She hesitated.

“By the pack,” she said at last. “A long time ago.”

Kael’s hands clenched into fists. “That’s not possible. No pack would—”

“They would,” she interrupted softly. “If they were afraid enough.”

The room fell silent.

Memories stirred then—not my own, but impressions, shadows of something older. A sense of cold stone and chanting voices. Of pain swallowed and power buried deep beneath layers of obedience and silence.

My vision blurred.

“Elara,” Kael said sharply, catching me as my legs gave out.

This time, he didn’t let go.

I clutched at him, the bond flaring painfully as that same inner presence stirred again, restless and aware. The healer’s voice sounded distant as she spoke, layered beneath the pounding of my heart.

“The binding is weakening,” she said. “The moon remembers what was taken.”

“What happens now?” Kael asked.

The healer met his gaze, fear flickering in her eyes. “Now she awakens.”

A sudden pressure built behind my eyes, the world narrowing as something deep inside me stretched, testing the edges of its cage. I gasped, my grip on Kael tightening as a low, unfamiliar growl vibrated through my chest.

He stiffened.

“Elara,” he murmured urgently. “Stay with me.”

I tried.

But the moonlight streaming through the window flared suddenly, brighter and sharper than before, illuminating the mark on my skin as it burned white-hot.

Somewhere deep within the pack territory, a howl answered.

And this time—

It wasn’t hostile.

It was reverent.