The Bond that burned
971 Words
Zuri barely touched the broth.
The woman—Elder Mae, she’d said her name was—had fussed over her like a mother hen, tucking pillows under her back, gently changing the bandage on her forehead. But Zuri barely heard her.
Her thoughts were locked on one thing.
Mate.
The word made her chest ache, though she didn’t understand why. It was too loaded, too intense. Yet it felt like a thread tugging at her soul, connecting her to the man who had looked at her like she was both a miracle and a curse.
Kairo.
She mouthed his name to herself when Mae stepped out. It lingered on her lips like a memory not yet recalled.
The room grew quiet again, save for the soft crackle of fire in the hearth. Zuri swung her legs over the bed slowly, testing her strength. Her limbs trembled, but she could stand.
She needed answers. And the only person who had them was the Alpha himself.
She padded barefoot across the wooden floor and opened the door.
The hallway was long and grand, lined with paintings of fierce-eyed men and silver-framed wolves. The walls whispered old power. This wasn’t just a house—it was a legacy.
As she turned a corner, voices echoed from a room below.
“She’s lying,” a woman snapped. “Or she’s been trained to forget.”
“I saw her, Valora,” came Kairo’s voice—calmer than earlier, but strained. “She wasn’t faking. That terror in her eyes… it was real.”
“You want to believe that. But do you remember what she did to you? To us?”
Zuri inched closer, peering down the stairwell. A dark-haired woman stood with arms folded, her body language sharp. Her eyes burned with resentment.
“She nearly destroyed everything we built. The pack barely recovered.”
“She also saved me,” Kairo said quietly.
Valora scoffed. “And then she vanished into thin air—taking something we can never get back.”
Kairo didn’t respond. The silence between them was heavier than words.
Zuri’s breath caught. What had she taken? What had she done?
She stepped back too quickly. The old floor groaned beneath her.
The voices fell silent.
Footsteps.
She turned to flee, but Kairo was already at the top of the stairs, staring at her. This time, there was no coldness in his eyes—only something raw. Something wounded.
“You heard,” he said.
Zuri nodded. “I’m sorry.”
He motioned for her to follow him into a nearby room—a study lined with books and scrolls. A fire burned low, and a large map of territories stretched across the wall behind the desk.
“Sit,” he said.
She obeyed.
He stood across from her, arms crossed, gaze unreadable.
“You want the truth,” he began. “I’ll give you some of it.”
Zuri nodded.
“You and I were bonded three years ago,” he said. “Not arranged. Not political. The moon chose you for me. It was… real.”
He paused, as if tasting a bitter memory.
“You weren’t just my mate. You were powerful. A gifted seer. A healer. You came from a forgotten bloodline—a tribe that once ruled the sacred ridge before it was burned in the great war.”
Zuri’s brows furrowed. “I was… magical?”
“You are magical,” he corrected. “But something happened. You started having visions. Nightmares. You said the moon was speaking to you. Warning you.”
He looked away, jaw tightening.
“You begged me to listen. I didn’t. I thought you were unraveling. Then one night… you were gone.”
Zuri clutched the edge of the chair. “Why would I run?”
“That’s the part that haunts me,” Kairo said softly. “Because you didn’t just vanish. You left behind blood. A trail. As if you’d fought your way out.”
She felt the pain in his voice more than the words themselves.
“Everyone believed you betrayed us. That you ran to our enemies. That you took… something precious with you.”
Zuri looked up. “What did I take?”
He didn’t answer.
Instead, he moved to a drawer and pulled out a silver pendant. He placed it gently on the desk between them.
It was shaped like a crescent moon, with a tiny red gem in the center.
Zuri stared at it.
The moment her fingers touched it, a wave of something surged through her—warmth, sorrow, love.
A baby’s laugh.
A woman’s scream.
A wolf’s howl.
She gasped, dropping it.
Kairo didn’t move. He just watched her, eyes locked on hers.
“You were carrying my child,” he said finally. “But when you disappeared… there was no trace. No scent. No body. No baby.”
Zuri froze.
“No…”
“We searched for months,” he said. “Years. But you were gone. And now, here you are. With no memory. And no child.”
Zuri stood abruptly, dizzy. Her hand went to her stomach, as if she could feel something still there.
“But I would remember,” she whispered. “I would remember my own child…”
“Not if someone didn’t want you to.”
Kairo’s voice was darker now. Fiercer. “There are those who feared your return, Zuri. People who gain from your silence.”
“Who?”
He shook his head. “Not yet. You’re not strong enough to face them.”
Zuri stared at him, her mind spiraling.
“Why would anyone take my child from me?”
Kairo met her gaze, and this time, his voice cracked.
“Because our child… carries the blood of gods.”
- Writer
