The scarred Heart

Chapter 4 – Silent Bonds

The silence here was not the kind of silence she was used to. It was alive, pulsating and pressing, like a stone-bound heartbeat.

Standing barefoot on the cold, slippery rock in the dark tunnel was Naia. Whatever she had absorbed still caused burns on her skin.

Inside her chest, the flame Nythera had given her had gone, but its aftershocks were still there, like a second pulse beneath her own.

She questioned whether she was still the same person. She could hardly recall the last time she had a distinct feeling. Aside from him.

Ronan.

She could still hear his icy, contemptuous words—"I reject this bond." Only four words.

Nevertheless, they had cut her open more deeply than claws could.

With a shaky breath, Naia raised her hand. Smoke hung from her fingertips in thin wisps that curled in the dim light like birds.

The smell of ashes and violets swamped the air. Something else clouded it too, something raw and something made of metal.

"I don’t know what I am now," Naia whispered.

Still silent, Nythera surfaced from the shadows. Naia was unable to decipher the secrets whispered by her dark garments as they dragged across the stone.

Her words were, "You are becoming."

Naia looked around. "What is it?"

Nythera's head jangled.

“The amount of the old self that you allow to die will determine that.”

Naia felt a chilly chill creep down her spine.

"My goal is not to turn into a monster."

"Then don't be."

Nythera's voice sounded like steel despite its velvety quality.

“All your life, people have told you that you are too quiet, too sensitive, and too undeserving. Now is your time to change what they observed.”

Naia's throat became constricted.

"They saw nothing at all."

"Exactly."

Nythera moved in closer and covered Naia's heart with two fingers.

“However, he did. Just for a second. It also frightened him. Power always does.”

Naia's jaw tightened.

"He made his decision."

"Yes."

Nythera gave a small smile.

“However, decisions have an impact. And yours is just getting started.”

**********

Naia had a dream that evening. However, it was different from before—no echoing rejection, no helpless falling. There was fire and color in the dream.

Moonlight dripped down like honey as she stood in a field of black flowers.

Ronan stood in the middle of the field, his body engulfed in flame, his eyes open. not on fire. beckoning. He made a move toward her.

She paused. Something sinister, like smoke chains, ancient voices, and old wounds, tugged at her heels from behind. But his hand was firm in front of her.

She took a step in his direction. But the ground broke open before she could reach him. She then fell once more.

Naia gasped when she woke up.

Her body hurt like she had been running for hours, and her neck was slick with sweat.

Nythera was gone, and the cavern was silent. Her heart thumping, she sat up.

Now her senses were keener. Somewhere far above, she could hear the gentle flutter of wings and the dripping of distant water. Like threads begging to be plucked, she sensed the energy in the air.

Even when the bond was denied, it remained. Not entirely. In her dream, she had sensed it. It was still there, tucked away under the suffering.

Yes, dormant. but still living. And she was more afraid of that than anything else. She stood up and moved toward the chamber's far side.

An upward-sloping tunnel led to the moonlight. Since that night, she had not been outside. since the decision. Because Ronan deprived her of what little dignity she still had while standing in front of the whole pack.

She had a desire to remain buried.

Let the darkness engulf her completely and let it end there.

However, another part wanted to come to life, one that she was unaware of at the time but that had started to ignite the minute the flame entered her.

Her senses were suddenly assaulted by the outside world. Her face was kissed by cold air. Her nostrils were loaded with dew and pine.

Dawn had damaged the sky above, causing stars to bleed into the pale light. Once more, she glanced down at her hands. No more smoking. Only skin.

She briefly questioned whether she had dreamed it all. Then, at the periphery of her consciousness, something moved.

She sensed Ronan, like a shadow slipping past a locked door, but not as distinctly as before.

Naia's jaw tightened.

She murmured, "Get out of my head."

She knew it wasn't his fault, though. As neither of them had hoped, the bond wasn't as severe.

If she was still able to sense him, what if he was still able to sense her?

Her step forward was unsteady.

**********

Far away, Ronan jumped up in bed in the Alpha's chamber.

His breath was labored. His hands were ablaze. He hit his chest with a hand.

She had woken.

**********

Returning to the forest, Naia followed the pathways she had once walked when she wanted to be alone.

Now they felt different. As if they were watching her to see what she would become, recalling who she was in the past.

Up ahead, she sat next to a stream that sliced through the woods, staring at her reflection. Though not, her eyes appeared the same.

They were glowing with a new radiance. Not luminosity. anything more profound. more substantial.

She let her flesh be washed by the water after dipping her hand in it. She thought for a second about what it might be like to see him again.

To enter the pack grounds as something and not a forgotten female. not to plead. Not to describe. But to get him to look.

In her throat, she swallowed the lump.

She said out loud, "I don't want retribution."

Nothing came from the trees.

However, a voice spoke from deep within.

Then why is it so delicious to taste?

With a calm heart, Naia stood up.

She had no idea where this new road would take her or what the next step was.

However, a dangerous conviction rose inside her. She would come back.

Not as his partner, not as his shattered tie, but as his reckoning.