Later that night, the ceremonial chamber was lit with violet fire and incense. Ancient runes glowed faintly on the floor. This was not just a ritual of unity—it was a binding, a pact of soul and spirit under wolf law.
Lucian Wolfe stood rigid in his ceremonial tunic, wrists cuffed in silver, jaw tight.
Across from him stood Seraphine.
Beautiful, composed, unreadable.
She hadn’t spoken to him since the news had broken.
Her pale blue eyes flicked up to meet his as the priest stepped forward.
“Under the moon’s light,” the old priest began, “we call upon the spirits of the wolves to witness this binding. Two souls. One fate. One legacy.”
Lucian felt the pull of the ancient magic. It clawed at his skin, tried to reach his heart.
But he closed himself off.
Emotionally. Mentally.
He ref
