Chapter 19: The Last Bond-Breaker
630 Words
The fever hit Kael before midnight.
He lay curled on the floor of the mountain shelter, breath ragged, fingers twitching as if grasping for something in a world that didn’t exist anymore. Luna watched helplessly from across the room, arms folded over her chest, back against the cold stone wall.
The bond pulsed.
Faint.
Erratic.
Like it was breaking apart, thread by thread.
She moved to him on silent feet.
“Kael,” she whispered, brushing sweat-soaked hair from his brow.
His skin burned.
And his lips moved—
Not with her name.
But with something ancient.
A spell.
She slapped him hard.
Once.
Twice.
He didn’t wake.
But the magic in the air thickened.
The runes around his body—those buried into his spine as a child—began to glow.
And then the world blinked.
Luna gasped.
Not because of pain.
Because of the silence.
She opened her eyes and found herself in the middle of the Bone Tree’s grove.
Again.
Only this time, there was no wind.
No birds.
No light.
Just her.
And a throne made of bones.
Kael sat atop it.
Crowned. Bare-chested. My eyes are fully black.
And he didn’t recognize her.
She stepped forward slowly.
“Kael.”
Nothing.
He stared at her like she was fog.
Her fingers curled into fists.
“Kael. It’s me.”
Still no response.
She climbed the bone steps.
He didn’t move.
But when she reached for his hand, he grabbed her by the throat and slammed her to the floor.
Pain exploded through her spine.
But she didn’t fight.
Didn’t scream.
She just gasped, “You’re still in there.”
His grip tightened.
Then loosened.
He blinked.
And for a single moment—just one—his eyes flickered gold.
“Luna?” he whispered.
She surged up and kissed him.
The dream shook.
Not cracked. Not trembled.
Shook.
Like the gods themselves noticed.
Kael fell back onto the throne, breathing hard.
“What… where…”
“You’re caught in her spell,” Luna said.
“She’s binding your soul.”
He looked down at his hands. They were covered in blood.
“My body… is still outside?”
“Yes.”
She took his face in her hands.
“And I’m here to bring you back.”
He kissed her.
Hard. Desperate. With the fury of a man trapped in his own death.
Their mouths met like war.
She climbed into his lap.
He didn’t question it.
She straddled him, pulled the thin shift over her head, tossed it into the fire that hadn’t existed until that moment.
He didn’t hesitate.
He slid into her, bare and ready.
And the throne beneath them groaned.
She rocked her hips.
His hands gripped her thighs.
Their rhythm was messy, primal, full of grief and rage and hope.
He bit her shoulder.
She raked her nails down his chest.
They f****d like the dream would end if they stopped.
Like it would consume them if they didn’t finish.
And when she came, he followed.
Hard.
Growling her name.
Panting against her mouth.
Still inside her.
Still hers.
And then—
His body began to vanish.
First his fingers.
Then his arms.
“No—NO!” she cried, clutching him.
“Luna,” he said, fading, “you brought me back.”
“But I’m still here!”
“You’ll wake up.”
“I don’t want to wake up without you!”
He kissed her.
And vanished.
She shot up, screaming.
Back in the mountain shelter.
Kael lay beside her, eyes wide, hand outstretched.
Alive.
Breathing.
Sane.
She grabbed him.
He caught her.
And together, they held each other in the dark.
No more mirrors.
No more dreams.
Just them.
And the bond—
Whole again.
- Writer
