Chapter 4: Burned by the Bond

They vanished before we could land a hit. Shadows with eyes—not wolves, not rogues.

They came for me, and when Thorne lunged, they scattered like smoke. The guards found us seconds later. I was dragged to the healer’s den. That was hours ago.

I didn’t sleep.

Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Thorne’s mouth on mine. His hands. The weight of his body pressed too close, too real. My wolf kept replaying it, like it didn’t care that Riven had walked in. Like it wanted that moment carved into me.

By dawn, I’d gotten maybe twenty minutes of sleep.

The healer’s quarters were still. I was supposed to be in the tower, but the guards rerouted me after the shadow attack. They hadn’t found anything. No bodies. No tracks. Just scorched ground and one phrase burned into the stone:

She’s marked wrong.

Whatever they were, they weren’t done.

I was sitting on the edge of the cot, trying to ignore the dull throb in my shoulder, when the door creaked open.

Riven stepped inside.

I froze. “Is this a good idea?”

He shut the door without answering. His shirt was half-buttoned, like he’d dressed in a hurry.

He didn’t come closer. Just leaned against the wall, arms crossed.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” I said.

He stared at me. “Yes, you did.”

“I didn’t plan it—”

“But you didn’t stop it.”

His words stung. Clean. Direct. Cold.

I stood. “It was the bond. It wasn’t—”

“Stop blaming the bond,” he snapped. “You felt it. So did I.”

I held his gaze. “Then why are you the only one acting like it doesn’t exist?”

Riven moved. One blink, and he was inches from me. He didn’t touch me, but his presence landed like a punch.

“Because if I give in,” he said, voice tight, “I won’t stop.”

The tension between us was suffocating. My wolf clawed at the edge of my skin, pacing beneath the surface.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” I whispered.

He reached for my wrist. The second his fingers touched my skin, something inside me cracked.

Pain slammed into me.

I collapsed to my knees, gasping as fire seared down my spine.

Riven staggered backward, eyes wide. The mark on my shoulder flared—hot, white, pulsing like a heartbeat out of sync.

The bond didn’t pull.

It burned.

He dropped to one knee, clutching his chest.

“No—” he gritted out. “It’s... pushing back—”

I tried to crawl away, but the bond coiled between us like a rope pulled taut. It wasn’t a connection. It was a war.

And then it snapped.

Not fully. Just enough for the pain to vanish like a switch flipped off.

Riven collapsed against the wall, panting, soaked in sweat. I stayed on the ground, shaking, heart hammering.

“What… what just happened?” I asked.

He didn’t answer right away. For the first time since I met him, he looked afraid.

“I tried to reject it,” he said.

“You what?”

“I thought if I pushed hard enough, before it settled... I could kill it.”

“And?”

He looked at me. “It nearly killed me.”

Neither of us spoke.

Then he stood, turned, and walked out without another word.

I didn’t even have time to gather myself before the next knock.

A small woman stood in the doorway. Braided silver hair, sharp eyes, and an aura like she belonged to something ancient.

“Come,” she said simply.

I didn’t ask who she was. I followed.

She led me through a passage beneath the healer’s wing I hadn’t seen before. Cold Stone. Moonlight seeping in from slits in the ceiling. The air felt sacred, somehow—or dangerous.

We entered a round chamber lit only by a glowing slab of moonstone at its center.

“Sit,” she said.

I did.

“Do you know what a Blood Eclipse is?”

I blinked. “Not really.”

“Then listen closely,” she said, laying her hand on the stone. “It happens once every few centuries. When the sun, moon, and Earth align just right, turning the full moon blood red. Wolves don’t celebrate it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it binds fate. Irrevocably.”

I leaned forward. “How?”

She looked me dead in the eye. “The Alpha’s sons were born under one.”

My blood turned cold.

She went on. “The Seer at the time collapsed mid-ritual. When the Seer woke, she said only one thing: "Three lives, one thread." Untouched, they remain safe. But if one thread is pulled, the rest unravel.”

My throat tightened.

“They were never meant to bond. Not with anyone. And especially not with one mate.”

“Why?” I asked.

“Because their souls are intertwined. Binding to one shifts the weight. Destabilizes the others. Balance is broken.”

I swallowed. “So when I kissed Thorne—”

“You pulled the first thread.”