CHAPTER 2: The Thread That Should Not Exist
1536 Words
~SARIA'S POV~
The second pull comes like a fist closing around my ribs.
It is not gentle. It does not ask.
It drags through my chest so hard my knees almost buckle against the stone.
My fingers shake against the ground.
“What is happening to me?”
My voice barely sounds like mine.
Nobody answers.
The Warriors stare at me with rigid faces. A few are struggling against the scent thickening in the air. The council remains frozen above me, watching like they do not know whether I am a danger or a mistake.
And beneath the pain, beneath the tearing inside my chest, something wakes.
Not freedom.
Not relief.
Something worse.
For the first time, I understand the bond was never fully broken.
Something yanks hard behind my ribs again.
I force myself upright. I move before I can think.
I break into a run before I even realize I have decided to move.
Stone disappears beneath my feet. Dirt replaces it a second later.
Someone shouts my name behind me. I do not stop.
I barely feel the cold air cutting into my lungs. All I feel is the violent pull dragging me somewhere I cannot see.
My mark twists painfully.
The cracked crescent pulses with sharp heat beneath my skin. Dried blood sticks to my collarbone, but every step makes the wound throb like it has split open again.
Then another scent reaches me.
It wraps around my senses and starts forcing everything else away.
Familiar. Impossible.
It reminds me of Darian enough to hurt, but it is not him. Not the same.
My chest locks so suddenly the next breath never fully comes.
The strange force inside me changes. It is no longer guiding. It is claiming.
As if the rejection never happened. As if my body already belongs to whatever waits ahead.
Another sharp wave tears through me.
I stumble off the main path and into the darker stretch of forest beyond the pack borders.
My chest still aches where Darian shattered me.
After everything he did, my body should know better.
Branches rake across my arms. Leaves slap against my face. The trees grow thicker the farther I run.
The air changes too. Cooler. Thinner.
The sounds of the pack fade until all I hear is my rough breathing. Then even that disappears.
Silence. Too sudden. Too complete.
I stop moving.
My pulse pounds violently in my ears.
I am not alone. I feel it before I see him.
A presence. Watching. Waiting.
My wolf surges so fast it hurts.
“Mine.”
The word hits somewhere deep inside me.
Then another voice follows. Lower. Rougher.
“Why does she feel like mine while I feel discomfort at the same time?”
Confusion flashes through me.
That voice sounds close. Too close.
The pressure inside me crashes violently again.
I press both hands against my chest as it forces me forward.
I should hate this. I should still be destroyed over Darian.
Instead, I break through the treeline and slam straight into him.
The impact knocks the breath from my lungs.
Strong hands catch me hard against a solid chest before I hit the ground.
Everything stops. I look up. And forget how to breathe.
He is tall and perfectly still. Dark hair falls across his forehead. Shadows sharpen the hard lines of his face.
But it is his eyes that trap me. They lock onto mine like he has been waiting for me. Like he already knows me.
The world narrows around us.
The pain inside my chest is still there, but suddenly it is not the only thing I feel anymore.
My fingers tighten against his shirt where I grip him for balance.
And for the first time since the rejection, my body stops feeling at war with itself.
That realization unsettles me instantly.
His breath turns uneven.
Mine answers before I can stop it.
The space between us disappears too naturally. Too easily.
Every instinct inside me wants to lean closer.
I hate that.
I barely escaped one broken bond. I should not be craving another stranger’s touch already.
But my body refuses to listen.
We stare at each other.
The force between us slams violently through me again.
Pain explodes across my chest. I choke.
Blood spills from my mouth.
His body jerks at the same moment. He coughs blood too.
Warm blood spatters across both our clothes before either of us can pull away.
“Sorry,” he says faintly.
The apology unsettles me more than the blood.
“Sorry,” I whisper back.
For a second we separate like the contact was a mistake. Like I was never supposed to find him.
His breathing changes. Small. Controlled.
But I notice.
Then my body moves toward him again. Uncontrollable. Undeniable.
His grip tightens around me like he does not want distance between us anymore.
My wolf reacts to his wolf instantly. Like it recognizes something I do not.
I stop resisting the connection.
Something burns sharply at my neck.
I gasp and grab my mark.
Pain streaks beneath my skin.
Not the familiar pain of rejection. Something worse. Something forming.
At the same moment, his wrist twitches.
A dark-gold crescent flashes across it. It looks almost unreal, like ink bleeding through skin.
He jerks his arm down too fast, trying to hide it. But I already saw.
Something changes in his expression when he grips his wrist.
Not fear. Something heavier. Like his body understands something his mind refuses to accept.
I scratch harder at my mark, desperate to stop the sensation spreading beneath my skin.
The edges pulse violently. Like something is trying to redraw the symbol there.
Then it stops. Instantly.
The connection weakens enough for me to think it might finally disappear.
Relief comes first.
Then disappointment follows so quickly it humiliates me.
A second later the connection slams back harder.
I freeze.
“What was that?” I whisper.
Before I can think again, his gaze drops to my neck. To the cracked silver crescent.
Everything changes.
His grip tightens painfully around my arm before he forces himself to let go.
The warmth between us vanishes so fast it leaves cold behind.
The forest feels quieter suddenly.
“No,” he breathes.
Not denial.
Recognition.
I feel it too.
The connection twists painfully inside me. Unsteady. Wrong.
“What is it?” My voice shakes. “Why are you looking at me like that?”
He does not answer.
His wolf pushes dangerously close to the surface. His eyes stay fixed on my mark as though he is not only seeing it but remembering something through it.
And then the thought hits me.
He already rejects me. Because another man marked me first.
But almost immediately another realization follows.
No.
That reaction was not disgust.
It looked closer to fear.
“Wait,” I say more carefully this time.
I force myself to think past the bond and look at him properly.
“You know something about this mark, don’t you?”
For the first time, uncertainty flashes across his face.
Small. Gone quickly. But real.
His jaw hardens.
He drops my arm immediately and steps back. Further this time. Controlled distance. But not calm. Never calm
The moment the contact breaks, the connection twists painfully again.
I hate how quickly I already miss touching him.
“What is this?” I demand.
My voice cracks anyway.
“Why do I feel this? Why does my body react to you like—”
The words die before I can finish them.
Like home. Like memory. Like something lost.
I do not understand any of it.
He finally looks at my face again.
And for the first time, I see it clearly.
It is not disgust.
It looks more like recognition buried beneath conflict.
And something deeper he is trying desperately to bury.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he says quietly.
Low. Controlled. Strained.
A sharp laugh almost escapes me.
“I shouldn’t be here? I don’t even know where here is.”
The broken remains of my bond with Darian still ache faintly somewhere inside me.
But it feels distant now. Overshadowed by him.
“Then tell me,” I press.
I step toward him again despite the warning in his posture.
“What are you remembering when you look at me?”
That question hits him harder than anything else.
I see it in the sudden tension across his face.
When he looks at me again, I already know he has made a decision.
“This shouldn’t exist,” he says quietly.
Not fully to me. Mostly to himself.
Then he turns away.
No name. No explanation. No answers.
He walks into the darkness.
“Wait!”
My voice cracks as I stumble after him.
“You can’t just—”
He never slows. Never looks back.
Within seconds, the darkness swallows him completely.
I stop moving.
The forest closes around me again.
But the connection remains. Weaker now. Distant.
Yet still alive beneath my skin.
And worse than the bond itself is the realization forming slowly in my mind.
He recognized something the moment he saw me.
- Writer
