Chapter 2

Ava didn’t sleep.

She lay awake long after Ashton left, staring at the low ceiling of her cramped room, still feeling the echo of his touch on her skin, his breath on her neck. Her body burned for him, but it was the ache in her heart that kept her from resting.

He wanted her. That much was obvious.

But he didn’t want the bond.

And that, somehow, hurt worse than any rejection she’d ever known.

By the time dawn broke, a cold silver light spilled through the tiny window above her bed. Ava rose slowly, pulling on her cloak and lacing her boots with fingers that still trembled. Today, she needed focus. Control. There was no room for vulnerability—not when she had to face him again.

The Council had summoned them.

Her and Ashton.

Together.

She made her way out of the packhouse and into the surrounding forest. The trees welcomed her like old friends, their branches creaking softly in the wind. Deep in the woods, past the training fields and patrol routes, there was a glade where her magic ran wild.

Here, she could breathe.

Here, she didn’t have to pretend.

With a soft whisper, Ava summoned the energy from within. It answered immediately, golden light flickering at her fingertips. It wove itself into threads that danced between her palms, light and shadow swirling with her emotions.

Her power was a strange thing—wild and quiet, like a sleeping beast that only stirred when she let it. Most witches learned control from elders or covens. Ava had no one. She had to teach herself, bit by bit, after her abilities first emerged during puberty—right around the same time the bond to Ashton had begun to whisper to her soul.

Coincidence? She doubted it.

The mark on her wrist pulsed faintly. A reminder.

She closed her eyes and focused on the light.

But then the wind shifted.

A branch cracked behind her.

“You’re not supposed to be here,” she said quietly.

She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was.

“I could say the same to you,” Ashton replied, his voice low and rough.

Ava stood, letting the magic fade. “You followed me.”

“You always come here when you need to feel safe.”

She turned to face him. He looked tired. His dark shirt was wrinkled, his jaw shadowed with stubble. He’d clearly not slept either.

“I didn’t mean to push you last night,” she said after a moment. “But you kissed me first.”

“I know.”

They stood in silence for a beat. The wind picked up, carrying the scent of frost and pine.

“I have to tell you something,” Ashton said. “The Council is sending us on a diplomatic run to the East Pack. They want an alliance. Resources. Training exchanges.”

Ava’s brows lifted. “Us?”

He nodded. “They requested me. And they requested… you.”

Ava’s lips parted. “Why would they want me?”

Ashton’s gaze softened. “Because they’ve heard rumors about your power. They think you might be able to help them ward off dark magic from rogue attacks along their border.”

She hesitated. “You agreed to this?”

“I didn’t have a choice. And neither do you.”

She could feel the pulse of fate thrumming louder now. This wasn’t just a mission. It was a shift. A turning point.

She stepped closer to him, close enough to feel the heat of his body.

“If you’re going to run from me, Ashton… don’t bring me with you.”

“I’m not running.”

He looked down at her, something unreadable flickering in his eyes.

“I’m just afraid that the closer I get… the harder it’ll be to stop.”

⸻

The wind whispered through the pine trees as Ava packed her satchel, fingers methodical, mind anything but. Dried herbs, spell stones, a small knife, and the moonstone crystal she never traveled without—all carefully wrapped and tucked between leather-bound books and vials of powdered minerals.

She didn’t know exactly what the East Pack wanted from her, but she had a feeling this mission was going to demand far more than basic enchantments.

Outside, horses were being saddled. Ashton didn’t want to risk using pack vehicles on narrow mountain passes where rogue activity had been spotted. Traveling by horseback, while slower, allowed for silence—and escape if necessary.

Ava adjusted her cloak and stepped out into the crisp morning air. Ashton was waiting near the stables, speaking with Elias, his Beta. They looked tense. Focused.

She kept her eyes forward, trying not to feel the heat of Ashton’s gaze as she approached.

“Everything you need?” he asked, not unkindly.

She nodded. “Everything I can carry.”

“Good. We leave now.”

Elias stepped forward, handing Ava a rolled map. “The route’s marked in red. We avoid the river bend—too exposed. Stick to the ridge paths. We’ve had reports of rogue movement.”

She raised a brow. “I thought this was a diplomatic mission.”

“It is,” Ashton said. “But it wouldn’t be the first time a treaty meeting was used as bait.”

Something dark flickered behind his eyes, and she felt a twist in her stomach. This trip wasn’t just about politics. It was a test. Of them. Of the bond.

Of survival.

They mounted their horses and set off before noon, the packhouse shrinking behind them as they entered the vast pine forest that bordered their territory. Snow clung to the branches, melting in droplets that sparkled like falling stars. It would have been peaceful—almost beautiful—if not for the weight between them.

They rode in silence for over an hour before Ava finally broke it.

“So,” she said. “What exactly do they expect me to do for the East Pack? Cast protective circles? Read bones by moonlight?”

Ashton’s jaw tightened. “They think you can cleanse dark energy. A string of rogue attacks along their borders have been… unusual.”

“Unusual how?”

“They left no scent. No tracks. Just scorch marks. No survivors.”

Her grip on the reins tightened.

That wasn’t rogue behavior. That was something else. Something magical.

“Why didn’t you tell me that sooner?”

“Because I didn’t want you to panic.”

“I don’t panic,” she said sharply. “I prepare.”

“Fine,” he said, glancing at her. “Prepare, then. Just don’t go off wandering alone. We may not know what we’re dealing with yet.”

They rode in tense silence again, the sounds of hooves crunching through frost the only noise between them. Ava hated it—this distance, the uncertainty, the almost-kisses and always-waiting. Every time she thought she could trust Ashton again, he pulled back. But now, with danger so close, it was clear they didn’t have the luxury of indecision.

As the sun began to dip low, they set up camp in a small clearing. Ashton moved with practiced ease—pitching a small tent, starting a fire, positioning stones around it like wards. Ava watched him for a moment before gathering her own materials for a protection charm.

She knelt by the fire, placing a circle of salt and ash, her fingers tracing ancient sigils into the dirt. The wind shifted again.

Her head snapped up.

“Ashton.”

He froze mid-motion, hand on his blade. “You feel that too?”

She stood slowly, eyes narrowing toward the shadows between the trees. The air had turned electric. Wrong.

“It’s not a wolf,” she whispered. “It’s something else.”

And then the silence broke—too suddenly. Something howled, not with hunger, but with fury.

A shape darted between the trees. Fast. Shadowy.

Ashton was already moving, sword drawn, circling to protect her flank. Ava raised her palm, summoning her magic instinctively. A soft blue light pulsed from her skin, expanding outward like a shield.

The creature burst from the woods, all claws and shadow, too fast to be seen clearly. Ava’s barrier flared, repelling it with a crackle of lightning.

The thing hissed—an inhuman sound—before melting back into the darkness.

“What the hell was that?” Ashton asked, eyes scanning the treeline.

Ava’s hands shook slightly as she lowered them. “I don’t know. But it wasn’t natural.”

She met his eyes across the firelight, her voice low and firm.

“This mission just got a lot more dangerous.”