Chapter Fourteen: A Bond on Fire

Ethan’s POV

He didn’t knock.

He kicked the door in.

Nina’s quarters had always smelled of rose oil and ambition. But tonight, all Ethan smelled was deception.

She didn’t even flinch. Just looked up from her mirror, hair coiled like a crown, lips already painted red.

“I was wondering when you'd come.”

“Drop the act,” Ethan growled.

Her reflection smirked. “What act?”

He held up the empty vial Arden had retrieved from the trash outside the healer’s wing.

The scent on it voidroot. Forbidden. Deadly to wolves with Luna bonds.

Nina's smile faded for just a second.

Then she stood, brushing her fingers over her collarbone like she was dusting off a memory.

“You love him.”

It wasn’t a question.

Ethan’s voice dropped. “More than I’ve ever hated you.”

Nina’s eyes flashed. “Then you’ll understand what it’s like to give everything… everything… to someone who doesn’t even look back.”

“You never loved me,” he said. “You loved the idea of being Luna.”

Nina stepped closer. “And you loved the idea of someone softersomeone you could save. But what happens when he’s the one who needs saving? When your pack turns? When you bleed yourself dry for a Crescent dog who can’t even stand?”

Ethan moved before he thought.

Faster than rage.

His hand slammed against the wall beside her head, not touching her but close.

“You poisoned him,” he said quietly. “And now you’ll tell me how to undo it.”

Nina tilted her head.

“Or what?”

Ethan’s voice dropped to a whisper.

“Or I’ll make you forget your own name.”

Silas’s POV

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

He couldn’t shift. Couldn’t hold his form. Couldn’t even call Ethan through the bond anymore.

It felt like trying to scream underwater.

Arden had forced broth down his throat earlier. But it didn't help.

Now, Silas lay curled on the infirmary cot, teeth chattering. Fever boiling under his skin.

He knew what this was.

A soul fracture.

The bond was fighting to hold.

But the magic poisoning him had already eaten through his spirit like rust through steel.

And if it snapped

If it snapped, there’d be no coming back.

Not for the bond.

Not for him.

Not for Ethan.

Arden’s POV

They gathered in the Alpha Hall in silence.

Healers, advisors, guards.

And an unexpected guest

Elder Lysara of Crescent Moon.

She had come under truce, escorted by Marcus himselfwho remained outside the gates, teeth bared and claws just under skin.

“You want my help,” Lysara said, voice like frost.

“I want him saved,” Ethan said.

She studied him. “Then you must accept what comes with the cure.”

Ethan’s jaw clenched. “Name it.”

Lysara stepped forward and dropped a leather pouch onto the table.

Inside black sand and a blade.

“Voidroot has no antidote,” she said. “But it can be burned out by severing the spiritual link for a breath of time, and then reforging it by force.”

Arden flinched. “That could kill them both.”

“It will,” Lysara said. “If the bond isn’t real.”

Ethan stared down at the blade.

Silas would have to choose him again.

In agony. In near-death.

Without the warmth of instinct.

Without the pull of fate.

Only choice.

Only love.

Silas’s POV –

They brought him into the circle barely conscious, sweat soaking his shirt.

Ethan knelt beside him, eyes red, voice shaking.

“Silas… it’s me.”

No answer.

Lysara handed him the blade.

“You must break it. Then call him back.”

Ethan’s hand trembled.

“Come back to me,” he whispered.

Then he cut.

A scream tore from Silas’s throat, raw and animal, and the bond snapped

A silence more deafening than death.

Ethan leaned in, lips against Silas’s ear.

“You choose.

You come back.

Or I’ll come find you in the dark.”

And somewhere deep in the void

Silas opened his eyes.