The Ties That Burn

The Ritual Hall felt like a damn icebox. The kind of cold that didn’t just hit your skin—it sank into your bones and made itself at home. Ezra stood at the edge of the stone circle, arms locked tight across his chest. His mark tingled beneath his sleeve, subtle but persistent, like it knew something was coming long before he did.

Across the room, the elders whispered in the dark like always—half threats, half tradition, and all eyes on him. You didn’t need wolf senses to smell their fear.

It’d been hours since the Hollow Pines scouts showed up, dropped that “Marked One” title like it meant something sacred, then disappeared back into the trees.

Kael hadn’t left Ezra’s side since. Not completely. He stood now, solid in the center of the circle, holding the silence like a line drawn in blood.

The oldest elder—Marwen, sharp-eyed and stuck in the past—finally stepped forward.

“This one’s not Veilwalker. He’s cursed,” he said, his voice dry as stone. “That mark on his arm? It’s a warning. Not a blessing.”

Ezra snorted. “I’m standing right here, by the way.”

Marwen didn’t even flinch. “We should bind his power. Before it spreads. Before it poisons us.”

Kael’s voice cracked through the air like a whip. “Try it, and you answer to me.”

Another elder stepped in. “You chose him, Kael. Against our counsel. And now Hollow Pines is sniffing around. Because of him.”

Ezra stepped forward, heart pounding. “I didn’t ask for any of this. Not the mark, not the whispers, not your drama. But I’m still here. I’m not running.”

Marwen’s eyes narrowed. “Bravery doesn’t make you a Blackthorn.”

“No,” Ezra said, holding his gaze. “But being scared of change doesn’t make you wise either.”

That shut them up.

Silence stretched, tense and thick—until Alric chuckled under his breath. Just one sharp sound.

Ezra blinked. Okay. Weird.

Kael stepped forward, calmer now. “No one’s binding anyone. Ezra trains with the rest of us. We double patrols. We hold the line.”

“And if Hollow Pines comes back?” another elder asked.

Kael looked at Ezra—not just looked at him, but into him. “Then we don’t let them take him.”

---

Training the next morning was straight-up brutal.

Ezra hit the mud twice before sunrise. His ribs ached from one punch too many, and his fingers stung where the skin had split. He didn’t stop.

Kael watched from the edges, arms folded, silent and unreadable. Alric was less subtle—barking commands like a drill sergeant who hadn’t slept in days.

“Move your feet! You're not dancing—you’re fighting!”

Ezra bit back a growl and adjusted his stance. Again.

By the fifth round, something in him clicked. Not magic. Not destiny. Just muscle memory and raw grit. His wolf, usually restless and clawing beneath his skin, felt steady now—focused. Like they were in sync.

He ducked a swing, rolled low, and sent the younger wolf he was paired with flat on his back.

Kael nodded once.

Alric grunted. “Finally.”

Ezra wiped the sweat from his brow, panting. “Still think I’m a curse?”

“Didn’t say you weren’t.” But there was a flicker in Alric’s expression. Not a smile exactly, but something close.

---

Later, when the hallways emptied and the quiet settled back over the estate, Kael found him.

“You’re getting better,” he said.

Ezra shrugged, shoulder sore. “Pain’s a hell of a teacher.”

Kael didn’t smile. He looked… conflicted.

“What?” Ezra asked.

“There’s an old rite. Almost forgotten,” Kael said, voice low. “It’s called the Firebind.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Sounds like something that ends in blood.”

Kael didn’t flinch. “It does.”

Ezra blinked. “Okay. Comforting.”

“It’s not fate,” Kael said. “It’s choice. You tie your power to someone else’s spirit. No prophecy. No bond forced by the moon. Just… a decision.”

Ezra’s stomach turned. “And why are we talking about it now?”

Kael took a breath. “The rival pack—they think your bloodline belongs to them. That you’re some… artifact. A weapon. The Firebind would make it clear you’re not.”

Ezra’s heart kicked. “So let me guess. You want to bind me to you. Publicly.”

Kael didn’t move. “I’m saying it’s an option. If you want it.”

Ezra laughed, bitter. “I don’t even know what I am, Kael. I’m hearing things, seeing shit that makes no sense, and now you want me to seal the deal with blood?”

“I’m not asking for forever,” Kael said, voice quiet. “Just for now. Until you can choose something else.”

Ezra stared at him. At the wolf who’d pulled him out of nothing and offered… not comfort, but truth.

“I need air.”

Kael nodded. “I’ll wait.”

---

The moon was full again.

Ezra didn’t remember walking out of the estate. His mark had burned the whole way, not in pain—but like it was calling something forward. Or someone.

He ended up by the river. The same place the whispers had first grown loud. The same place he’d started to wonder if he wasn’t going insane.

But now?

The voice in his head wasn’t screaming. Just one word:

Choose.

Ezra dropped to his knees, fingers curled in the cold dirt, breath fogging in front of him. For once, there was no anger in his chest. Just exhaustion. And a question.

Was he ready to stop running?

Soft footsteps behind him. Ezra didn’t turn—he didn’t have to.

Kael stood there, quiet as the trees.

“If I do this…” Ezra said, “everything changes.”

Kael’s voice was low. “Yeah.”

“And if I don’t?”

“They’ll come for you,” Kael said. “But I’ll still stand in the way.”

Ezra stood slowly, heart pounding like a war drum. “I don’t want to be picked because of some mark. Or prophecy.”

Kael’s gaze didn’t waver. “Then pick me.”

Ezra took a breath—and stepped forward.

---

The Firebind was short. Raw. Brutal.

No ceremony. No elders. Just the woods, the night sky, and Alric watching in silence.

A fire blazed between them, spitting sparks into the darkness. Ezra and Kael stood across from each other, sleeves rolled, wrists bare.

Ezra held out his hand.

Kael took it.

The blade cut fast. Palm to palm. Their blood mixed.

Ezra’s mark flared—gold, then red, then silver—before sinking beneath his skin. A pulse. A tether. Something deeper than magic.

He felt Kael. Not just beside him—but in him. Like a shadow stitched into bone.

Kael’s voice was barely a whisper. “You’re not alone anymore.”

Ezra swallowed hard. “Neither are you.”

The fire roared.

A howl ripped through the night.

Not Blackthorn.

Alric’s hand went to his blade. “We’ve got company.”

Ezra turned toward the sound—and froze.

Through the trees, tall and grinning like he owned the world, came a wolf with eyes like glass and teeth too white to trust.

The rival alpha.

And this time, he hadn’t sent scouts.

---

He’s here. No messenger, no warning—just him, in the flesh. And he’s not leaving without Ezra.