Chapter Six: Moonfire

Lily

It started with a dream—but unlike the others, this one didn’t feel borrowed or strange.

It felt like ours.

We were in the woods behind the estate, bathed in silver moonlight that turned every leaf into starlight. The air shimmered. Link stood before me, bare-chested, breathing hard like he’d just shifted. His eyes glowed pale blue. Wild. Reverent. Starved.

He reached out, and I didn’t flinch. I walked into him.

He kissed me.

Not gently. Not cautiously.

It was a kiss meant for after wars. After lifetimes of waiting. His mouth claimed mine like it had a right to, like he’d bled for it. I melted, my hands gripping his shoulders, my body arching into his, our souls clawing through skin and memory and restraint.

When I woke, my lips tingled.

My tank top was soaked in sweat. My thighs pressed together, aching. The bond burned hotter than ever before. The mark on my hand shimmered faintly in the dawn light.

Something had changed.

That morning, I saw him in the hallway again.

This time, he didn’t disappear. This time, he stopped. Let me approach.

His jaw was tight. His shirt clung to him like it was barely surviving the stretch of his body. His hands flexed at his sides.

“I dreamed about you,” I whispered.

His eyes darkened. “I know.”

I swallowed. “Did you—”

“Yes.” He stepped closer. “Every night since you arrived.”

We stood inches apart, not touching, but it felt like standing on the edge of a wildfire.

“What is this?” I asked.

He looked down at me like he could see all the places I was cracked open.

“The beginning of the end,” he said, voice raw.

Link

I should’ve left.

Every instinct told me to run—to chain myself in the basement, to disappear until this passed. But it wouldn’t pass. It was stronger every day. Every time I saw her, every breath I took in her presence made my control bleed out.

And when she said she dreamed me—

I knew we’d crossed the line.

The bond was tethering us tighter, feeding off every glance, every breath, every heartbeat. The mark on her hand was proof: she’d been claimed. Not physically. Not yet.

But spiritually? Celestially?

She was mine.

And it was only a matter of time before the universe demanded I act on it.

That night, I paced the edge of the gardens. My wolf snarled inside me, restless. She was near—I could feel her heartbeat like it was my own.

She came.

Wrapped in a hoodie and moonlight. Barefoot again. Brave. Reckless. Herself.

“You always pace like that?” she asked.

“Only when I’m trying not to rip the world apart.”

She stepped closer. “Then don’t. Let it burn.”

I looked at her then, fully.

And something inside me snapped.

I took her face in my hands. She gasped, but didn’t pull away. Her eyes fluttered closed. I kissed her. Finally.

It was everything and not enough. Slow at first. Reverent. But then her hands slid into my hair, and I lost it.

The kiss deepened. Grew rough. Desperate. I lifted her, carried her to the wall of the old garden shed, pressed her against it like I needed the earth to hold her steady while I unraveled.

Her legs wrapped around me. Her breath hitched. My name left her mouth like a plea.

“Link.”

We didn’t go further—not yet. But we tasted the edge of what was coming.

And it was going to be unstoppable.

Later, she lay in my arms beneath the stars. Not asleep. Just still. Marked by me. Marked by fate.

But we weren’t alone.

The wind shifted. My body tensed.

“Someone’s watching,” I whispered.

She sat up slowly. “Who?”

I didn’t answer.

Because I already knew.

And whoever it was…

They wanted her too.