Kael (POV)We didn’t speak when we left the cave.There wasn’t a trail to follow—just instinct. A bend in the trees, a shift in the wind, the subtle way the frost crusted heavier where the Wilds didn’t want us to pass.She didn’t ask where we were going.And I didn’t tell her that I’d seen this place before.Not in dreams. Not in maps.In blood.We climbed without words. Her coat hung loose again, throat bared to the cold. I didn’t offer mine. She wouldn’t have taken it. Her boots left smears where the frost turned to black earth, and I followed close behind—close enough to catch her if she slipped, far enough to let her pretend she wouldn’t.The ridge rose sharp and slanted ahead. Not high. Just cruel.They called it the Ridge of Knives in the old Warden texts. A place where the first of us made vows in blood. A place where the frost stayed even through fire season. And every vow was carved into the stone—bone-deep, etched with claw or blade, meant to outlive the wolves who spoke the
Kael (POV)She didn’t speak when she woke.Didn’t look at me.Didn’t reach for her coat or ask what time it was or where we’d go next.She just stared at the edge of the firepit like it owed her an answer.I’d been awake longer—barely. I hadn’t moved. Sat across from her, boots half-unlaced, elbows resting on my knees like I could pretend I’d slept sitting up. Like I hadn’t spent the night watching her shake in her sleep.Not from cold.Once, the spiral under her ribs twitched, and she flinched. No cry. No fight. Just a shallow breath, dragged in like it hurt. She’d learned how to suffer quietly. That silence stayed with her even in dreams.By morning, the soot beside her had curled into a spiral.Not drawn.Not placed.Formed.As if the cave remembered her.I didn’t ask what she saw.Because if she told me—I wouldn’t stop it. Couldn’t protect her from it. And she didn’t want protection. Not anymore.Not from me.No holding. No stopping. No saving.So I let the silence settle around u
Lira (POV) I didn’t announce myself. I just stepped into the circle of warmth and sat across the flames from him. Not beside. Not touching. He didn’t flinch. Didn’t startle. Just looked up and met my eyes. No words. Just the fire cracking between us. His gaze dropped to my bare legs, the smudge of ash still on my coat, the bruises at my hips. His mouth parted—but nothing came. Not apology. Not hunger. Just silence. Whatever we’d become in the dark… it hadn’t followed us into the light. He passed me a flask of water. I didn’t drink. He didn’t press it. We just sat there, heat licking at our shins, while the sky above the Wilds refused to settle on a color. Half dusk. Half storm. I caught him watching me. Not with guilt. Not even regret. With endurance. Like he was bracing for whatever I became next. And I… I didn’t know how to tell him I wasn’t sure either. I wasn’t the girl who wanted him just because the tether told me to. But I wasn’t the one who didn’t want him, either
Lira (POV)I woke cold.Not shivering—hollow. Like something had been carved out of me during the night and carried off while I slept.My skin was slick with sweat that had already dried, tight in places, raw in others. My thighs ached. My spine throbbed. The spiral beneath my ribs didn’t pulse anymore… but it itched. Deep. Like it was watching from under the skin, waiting to be noticed.I reached out blindly beside me, fingers curling against the furs.Empty.The fire had gone out. The air in the cave hung damp and stale, as if it hadn’t dared to breathe while we—I didn’t finish the thought. I couldn’t. It stuck somewhere between throat and marrow, where his name still lingered like smoke.I sat up slowly. Every part of me protested. My legs trembled under the weight of memory. There were bruises on my hips, faint bite marks blooming across my chest, and scratches down my side that weren’t mine. Not marks of violence. Not this time.Just hunger. Desperation. Tether-deep need that ha
Kael (POV)The ridge broke open like a wound—jagged stone giving way to a sweeping hollow below, ringed in cliffs and silent trees. The wind came first.Not a breeze.Not weather.A sound.Low. Long. Not human. Not wolf. Something older—pressed from the lungs of things that no longer had flesh. It rolled through the broken teeth of the ridge like breath across bone. Cold climbed my spine.Lira froze.She stood near the cliff’s edge, hair whipping across her face, coat half-off her shoulders like it didn’t matter anymore. Her stance didn’t change. She didn’t flinch. But I saw it—the way her fingers curled tight. The way her throat tipped toward the sound.The howl came again.It wasn’t an echo.It wasn’t ours.And still—she answered.Not like a shifter calling pack.Not like a mate keening for bond.But like a thing left behind refusing to kneel.Her head tilted. Her mouth opened. And she howled—not high, not wild. Deep. Controlled. Ragged at the edges. A sound scraped from the spine o
Kael (POV)She didn’t look back.Not once. Not when she stepped into the snow barefoot. Not when the wind cut sideways through the trees. Not when my blood was still drying on her shoulder.I followed.There was nothing else to do. Nothing else that made sense. My body moved without command, boots crushing old ice, steps careful and close—but not close enough to touch her. She left no trail, not in the way mortals did. Just the ache of her heat still clinging to my skin, a pulse in the marrow that hadn’t quieted since the cave.Lira walked like the world owed her its silence. Spine straight, head high, hair knotted with sweat and shadow. Her coat hung open. The spiral mark beneath her ribs pulsed under the fabric, dark as ink and twice as loud.I should’ve said something.But my throat refused.I watched the sway of her shoulders, the slight limp from stone-bruised feet, the glint of dried blood on her collar. My mark. My sin. My choice.She didn’t speak. Didn’t slow.Just moved forwa