Which is worse, boy drama or losing control of your magic in training? Coin toss for Nora.
I saw it. Most people would have missed it, but I have spent my entire life watching for the smallest tells. The shift in weight, the faint flare in the nostrils, the way a gaze lingers half a heartbeat too long. Caelum was not just looking at her. He was tracking her as if she were already his.It burned through me, hot and corrosive, settling in my chest like acid.She walked beside him, saying nothing, and he did not need words. His body spoke for him, the low tilt of his head, the faint bend of his frame toward hers as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. He was the storm she did not know was circling her.I told myself I had no claim. That was the truth, on paper. But truth had never mattered when it came to her. I had felt it in my veins from the moment I first touched her, an echo of something older than reason. My bond was incomplete, frayed, a shadow of what it could be. And I had done nothing to strengthen it.That was my mistake.Now I was watching him take what I
I hadn’t had a second to myself since the gardens. The Hunter’s Moon had faded, but the pull of it lingered still, thrumming in my veins. Every rustle in the halls yanked me tight, every echo in the stone hallways made my skin twitch. Every scent in the corridors threatened to be hers, and when it was, my body responded before my mind could catch up, and I was caught between instinct and the fact that she had backed away. The gardens played in bright flashes in my head, her breath hot on my cheek, her fingers under my shirt, her magic curling into mine with no hesitation. She had met me with the same fire I had carried, the same hunger between my ribs until she stopped. I’d convinced myself it was the moon, too fast, too powerful for her. It was like wildfire. She was a wildfire. My wildfire. But the truth gnawed at me. She had stopped herself, and I had no idea why. My wolf hated not knowing. I felt wound too tight now, edges too sharp. Every whisper of cloth against cloth, every
I couldn’t stop thinking about her. The way her eyes had lit up when she leaned forward to ask about Heartspire burned in my memory, one of those rare glimpses of unguarded curiosity that made her look almost weightless. But it wasn’t the only thing that haunted me. There was the shadow that had fallen over her face, slipping across her features in the way she was sure I wouldn’t see. She’d tried to hide it, smooth it over, but I knew the signs. The same look I saw when people talked about someone they couldn’t get out of their heads. The same look that made me want to break something when I realized who she was thinking about. Caelum Hawthorne. I told myself it was the bond, the wolf in him pulling at her blood and instincts, but I knew better. She’d looked at him differently recently. I wasn’t the only one to see it. The way her shoulders had relaxed, the way her eyes followed him as if she’d discovered something she didn’t even know she was missing. It was a look I wanted to see
The gardens were awash in red. Every leaf, every petal glistened as if the Hunter’s Moon had come down and set itself there. Caelum filled my senses, his heat flooding around me, leaving no space within my lungs that was not his. The magnetism between us was strong and base, and I had no capacity to deny it. His hands cupped my face, rough and warm, and then his mouth was on mine, marking me with an urgency that stole my breath. I didn’t think. I couldn’t. I willed my fingers to dig into the fabric of his uniform coat, then beneath it, where they met the heat and hardness of his skin. His back flexed under my palm, spine curving at the touch of my nails. He rumbled against my mouth, low, like the growl of an animal. The vibration crawled up my jaw, startling something electric alive in my veins. My magic sparked under my skin, faint as ashes on the wind, but burning. I had never known anything so vibrant and so desired. So fearless. It was instinct. It was surrender to something olde
I felt it as soon as the Hunter’s Moon was at its height. Not in the sharp jolt that must have surged through Caelum’s veins, in some lupine response that made his jaws clench. No. I felt it in the hollow, aching space of my chest, where my bond with Nora was only beginning to form. It was still incomplete, just a suggestion of something not yet fully alive, but it had been there before, and the moon was heightening it. Tonight it changed. Her magic touched against mine in a hard, electric sweep, and for a moment, I thought she was reaching out to me. I almost called out to her. Almost. Then I felt it. The ghost of a bond taking shape. Not mine. Caelum’s. It was like a knife to the ribs, clean and quick before the blood could stain. One heartbeat, I told myself she was still mine for the taking, that silence had been strategy, not cowardice. The next thing I knew, I had waited too long. Caelum had not. My vision crystallized with a cold, predatory focus I usually reserved for the
The forest breathed with us. Our paws pounded against the earth, each heartbeat in tune with the moonrise overhead. The Hunter’s Moon. Bright. Demanding. Ancient. It blazed silver down upon the trees, and our pack ran wild beneath it, the strength of it coursing through fur and bone, instinct rising like a second skin. In this form, we were home. We were free of names and titles. But then it changed. The moment the moon crested, it hit me. The scent. My body went rigid. I clawed deep grooves into the dirt as I skidded to a stop, chest heaving. Spiced heat. Wild honey. Crushed firelight and something ancient and older than us all. I recognized it before I even turned to look. Mate. My heart slammed against my chest, every instinct of me coming to the surface like a tsunami. My vision went hazy around the edges, heat pulsing through my veins. I didn’t need to see her. I didn’t need to touch her. I knew. I knew it was Nora. Mate echoed through me with a primeval finality, and I gro