Ch. 8: The Black Moon Rising

Night came slow and heavy, like ink bleeding through parchment.

They made camp deep in the forest, far from the Dominion’s hunting wards. The only sounds were the fire’s shallow crackle and the whisper of the wind through skeletal trees.

Taren slept curled beneath Zevran’s cloak, his breathing shallow but no longer ragged. The black veins along his throat had faded slightly, but Kaelira still didn’t trust it. Dominion magic had a way of hiding until you blinked.

She sat across from the fire, staring into the embers until her eyes blurred. The mark on her wrist flickered faintly in rhythm with the flames—like her power couldn’t decide whether to rest or wake.

Zevran crouched nearby, sharpening his blade with slow, deliberate strokes. Sparks leapt, reflecting in his eyes. He didn’t speak, and Kaelira wasn’t sure whether that made her more or less aware of him.

Finally, she broke the silence. “You said Taren’s your brother’s son.”

Zevran didn’t look up. “I did.”

“And your brother—?”

“Dead,” he said simply. “Killed by the Dominion when they learned he carried moonblood. He took their experiments to his grave.” His voice stayed calm, but Kaelira felt the flicker of something raw through the bond—pain, tightly caged.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured.

“You shouldn’t be,” he replied. “You didn’t kill him.”

She looked into the fire. “You think I could’ve.”

“No,” Zevran said, quieter now. “I think you could kill anyone if you had to.”

She wasn’t sure if that was meant as an accusation or a compliment.

“Is that what you think of me? Some wild weapon your Dominion made by mistake?”

His gaze lifted to hers—cool, steady, unflinching. “I think you’re what happens when fate tries to correct itself.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one that matters.”

The fire popped, sending sparks spiraling between them.

For a long moment, neither looked away.

Why does he always look like he’s memorizing me? she thought, and immediately hated herself for thinking it.

Zevran broke the tension first. “Sleep,” he said. “You’ll need your strength when the moon turns.”

She frowned. “What do you mean turns?”

He stood, sliding the blade back into its sheath. “You’ll see.”

⸻

She didn’t sleep.

The dreams came anyway.

Dark skies. A moon bleeding silver rain. Voices chanting her name over and over until it didn’t sound like her name anymore.

She woke with her heart hammering, skin slick with sweat—and the forest glowing faintly around her.

At first she thought it was dawn. Then she realized the light wasn’t from the horizon.

It was from above.

The moon hung low between the trees, enormous and black at its core, rimmed with a ring of dull silver fire.

Zevran was already awake, standing at the edge of the clearing. The light carved him into shadow and steel. He didn’t turn when he spoke.

“It wasn’t supposed to rise yet.”

Kaelira swallowed. “The Black Moon.”

He nodded once. “Every hundred years. It draws power from those tied to the old seals.” His gaze cut toward her. “From you.”

Her mark burned hot. “You’re saying this thing woke up early because of me?”

“Because of the bond,” he corrected. “Our magic combined woke the lunar current. It’s feeding on us.”

“Well that’s wonderful,” she muttered. “Got any advice?”

“Don’t lose control.”

“Again?”

Zevran’s lips curved faintly. “I’m consistent.”

The ground trembled before she could retort.

A low hum rippled through the trees—like a song sung underground. The fire went out. Shadows twisted, forming figures just beyond the treeline—Dominion soldiers in spectral armor, their eyes glowing silver-white.

Kaelira rose instantly. “How did they find us?”

“The Black Moon lights every bond tied to its mark,” Zevran said grimly. “They’re drawn to it like moths.”

“Then let’s burn them.”

She stepped forward, flames gathering at her fingertips. But Zevran caught her arm, grip strong. “No. You’re still learning control. You could ignite the entire forest.”

“So you handle it?”

His mouth tightened. “We handle it. Together.”

Their marks flared in unison—hers gold, his silver—until the tether between them shimmered visibly in the dark, a thread of light connecting their wrists.

The Dominion soldiers hesitated, shielding their eyes.

Zevran’s voice dropped low. “Channel through me.”

“What?”

“Focus on the tether. Let your fire flow through it. I’ll ground it.”

Kaelira hesitated. “That bond is barely stable.”

“Neither are you,” he said, “but here we are.”

She almost smiled—almost.

Then she took a breath, gritted her teeth, and reached through the bond.

Power surged instantly, molten heat coursing up her veins. Zevran gasped, his knees buckling for a moment before he steadied, jaw clenched. The tether between them pulsed, light flooding outward like a wave.

“More,” he said through gritted teeth. “Don’t hold back.”

“You’ll burn—”

“I said more!”

Kaelira screamed and obeyed. The flames burst from her in an explosion of gold and silver light that tore through the clearing. The Dominion soldiers disintegrated before they could even cry out.

When the world stilled, the forest glowed faintly gold, ash raining like snow.

Zevran collapsed to one knee, breathing hard. Kaelira stumbled forward, catching his shoulder.

“You’re insane,” she whispered.

He smiled faintly, voice rough. “So are you.”

They stayed like that for a long moment—her hand gripping his shoulder, his head bowed, their marks still burning against each other like twin brands. Neither spoke. The silence between them hummed with everything they weren’t saying.

Finally, Kaelira broke it. “You should’ve told me this bond could kill us.”

“You wouldn’t have agreed.”

“True,” she admitted. “Still would’ve been nice to know.”

He looked up then, meeting her eyes fully. “Would you have refused?”

Kaelira hesitated. “No.”

His lips parted like he wanted to say something else—but then he stood, breaking the moment cleanly, like he always did. “We move before dawn. The Dominion will have felt that blast.”

She stared after him as he walked toward Taren, who still lay sleeping beneath the cloak.

Her hands still trembled, not from fear, but from how alive she felt.

⸻

When the first streak of light touched the trees, the Black Moon began to fade.

But Kaelira knew better than to think the danger was over.

She could still feel the echo of its song inside her blood, whispering promises she didn’t want to understand.

She watched Zevran in silence as he prepared the horse, his movements efficient, deliberate. The bond thrummed faintly between them—quiet, steady, but undeniably there.

“You ever wish you weren’t what you are?” she asked suddenly.

He paused, glancing back. “Every day.”

She nodded, eyes distant. “Good. At least we’re both doomed with company.”

He gave her that half-smile again, small and dangerous. “Doomed suits you.”

And for the first time since the bond, she smiled back.