Chapter Ten: Ashes And Gold
687 Words
A full war party — twenty wolves, crest of the Crescent Fang across their chests. My father rode at the front, flanked by two elders and a seer bound in chains.
We gave you a chance, he called out. “You chose exile. Now you’ll die with him.”
Kieran stepped forward, bare-chested, golden veins pulsing beneath his skin.
“I never asked to be born,” he said. “But I will choose how I die.”
They didn’t wait for permission.
They attacked.
I don’t remember drawing my blade.
I remember fire.
And screaming.
And Kieran beside me glowing, shifting, falling, rising again.
I saw a wolf.
A serpent.
A man made of smoke and gold.
I saw a creature born of death who refused to become it.
And then—my father reached me.
He was fast. Too fast. He drove a silver blade through my stomach, right under my ribs.
I collapsed.
Kieran screamed my name.
The sound split the sky.
And then everything went black.
When I woke, I wasn’t in the snow.
I was in a field of white ash.
And Kieran was kneeling over me, sobbing.
“I brought you back,” he whispered. “I used it. I used everything.”
His hands glowed.
His veins burned.
And in that moment, I knew he had chosen me over himself.
He had unleashed the full power inside him to keep me alive.
And now it was consuming him.
I tried to sit up. “No. Don’t. You’ll lose control.”
He looked at me, broken and burning.
“You were dead.”
“And now I’m not. But you—Kieran, you’re slipping—”
His eyes were black now. The air around him vibrated.
And then I heard the seer’s voice still alive, still watching.
“Once the Hollowborn awakens,” she whispered, “he cannot be bound again… unless by blood.”
“What does that mean?” I shouted.
He looked at me.
“It means the only way to save him is to sever the bond.”
“To end it.”
I crawled to him, fingers trembling.
“Kieran,” I whispered. “Look at me.”
He did.
“Let me go.”
His head shook violently. “No.”
If we stay bonded, you’ll burn.
If I lose you, I shatter.
I cupped his face in both hands, even as the skin burned mine.
I’d rather die than watch you become something you’re not.
“I am this,” he cried. “But with you, I remembered how to feel like a person. Like a mate. If you leave—”
“I’m not leaving,” I whispered.
And I kissed him.
One last time.
The bond trembled.
And I cut it.
Not with magic.
Not with force.
But with choice.
I let him go.
And the moment I did—he collapsed into my arms.
Alive.
Breathing.
And no longer glowing.
Three days later, we returned to Crescent Fang.
Together.
The war party had disbanded. My father was dead. The council shattered.
Kieran was no longer a threat.
He was a symbol.
They called him The Twice-Born.
The one who lived.
The one who chose love over power.
And me?
They offered me back my title.
I refused.
I didn’t want a throne built on fear.
I wanted something real.
We rebuilt far from the compound. A new pack. Small. Wild. Free. No bloodlines. No arranged bonds. Just wolves ,broken, found, chosen.
Kieran stayed with me.
The bond was gone.
But the love wasn’t.
It was quieter now.
Deeper.
It wasn’t fate.
It was ours.
Sometimes, late at night, I still see flashes.
Of fire.
Of our past lives.
Of who we could’ve been.
And I wonder…
If we’ll find each other again.
When the moons rise twice.
When the world forgets our names.
But I don’t fear it.
Because I’ll still choose him.
Every time.
Even if it breaks me.
We weren’t mates by prophecy.
We were bonded by pain.
And somewhere in that ruin… we built something worth bleeding for.
- Writer
