Chapter 21: The Distance We Bleed
764 Words
The night after the war council, Kael stood alone beneath the Ashfall Archway, staring out over the valley where his wolves trained. The moon hung half-full in the sky, like a promise yet to be kept. His fingers twitched at his side. His breath left him in slow, clouded pulses.
Luna wasn’t there.
For the first time in weeks, she hadn’t joined him at sunset.
She’d gone to the east flank, leading the new strike wolves.
He hadn’t told her everything.
Not yet.
Because the thing he needed to do couldn’t be done with her watching.
Couldn’t be done with her bleeding because of it.
He returned to the war tent before dawn.
Spread out the map.
Marked five points in red.
The Queen’s blood couriers.
The Mirror Gate.
The Rune Spire.
The Black Root Camp.
And the Vault.
If he struck all five…
If he coordinated the wolves just right…
He could end her control without ever raising a blade to the throne itself.
But to do that—
He needed Luna far away.
She returned midmorning, windburned and grinning, a cut down her arm and mud streaking her neck.
He kissed her before she could speak.
Then they dragged her into the tent.
They didn’t speak for a long time.
We just unwrapped each other.
Her tunic fell.
His shirt disappeared.
She climbed onto him, pushed him down into the bedroom, and sank onto his c**k with a groan that made the guards outside clear their throats and walk away fast.
She rode him slowly at first.
Then harder.
Then fast enough to shake the table.
After, she lay against his chest, eyes closed.
“Don’t send me away,” she whispered.
He stiffened.
She opened her eyes. “You were going to. Weren’t you?”
Kael exhaled.
“I need someone I trust to lead the east wolves. If they fail—”
She rolled off him. “That’s not why.”
“Luna—”
“It’s because you think I’ll get hurt. Again.”
He said nothing.
She sat up, naked and furious. “I’m your mate, Kael. Not your shield. Not your excuse.”
“I know.” His voice cracked. “That’s why it kills me to ask you this.”
She turned away.
That night, she didn’t sleep beside him.
She slept with her warriors.
And Kael watched the fire until it died to embers.
She left at sunrise.
Didn’t say goodbye.
Didn’t kiss him.
She just mounted her horse and rode east with twenty wolves behind her.
Kael stood on the ridge, hand in his coat, eyes fixed on her until she vanished behind the trees.
Only then did he turn to the scout.
“Send the signal,” he said. “We move to the Vault at dusk.”
The raid on the Vault was bloodless.
Kael’s wolves moved like fog—silent, unseen, surgical.
They broke the rune lock.
Destroyed the bond records.
And when the Queen’s seers arrived—
Kael was already gone.
The casket he took with him glowed faintly with old spells.
It whispered names.
Bloodlines.
Secrets the Queen had hidden for decades.
Now they were his.
Luna didn’t know.
Not yet.
She was fighting her own battle in the east—holding back the Black Wolves with half-trained shifters, keeping her people alive, holding the line.
Her skin broke.
Her bones strained.
But she didn’t fall.
Didn’t fail.
Not until the third night—
When the Queen herself appeared on the ridge.
Luna stood at the front of her pack.
Exhausted.
Bleeding.
And the Queen simply looked at her and said, “You’ve already lost him.”
Luna didn’t flinch.
“I know a lie when I hear one.”
The Queen smiled. “Then why is your bond so quiet?”
That night, Luna couldn’t feel Kael.
Not clearly.
Not like before.
She curled on her bedroll, alone, hand on her heart.
Waiting.
Kael didn’t sleep either.
He sat beneath the Bone Tree.
The real one.
Not a dream.
He held the Vault scrolls in his lap.
And in his hand—
A ring.
Forged from his father’s blade.
Inlaid with Luna’s blood.
Carved with the rune for “home.”
He closed his eyes.
And whispered, “I’m building it for us.”
But miles away, Luna dreamt of fire.
Kael on the throne.
His eyes were black again.
And her body was chained beneath him.
She woke up screaming.
The bond was still silent.
And for the first time since she’d met him—
She doubted.
- Writer
