Blood remembered

Chapter 11: After the Monsters

The door to the war tent slammed behind us. Varga’s voice followed us out, low enough that only wolves could hear it.

“You didn’t just bring a curse to my territory, boy.”

He stepped into the doorway, torchlight carving lines into his face.

“You brought a war. And the Hollow doesn’t start wars unless the lock has been turned.”

He looked right at our marks.

“Whatever door you two opened, something’s coming through it. And I will not let Gray Ridge be the first to bleed.”

Then he shut the door. No guards. No chains. Just that. So now we’re here. East cabin. Small. One room. One bed. One fireplace.

No hole in the wall. For the first time in 3 days, no one was trying to kill us. Sarah sat on the edge of the bed. I was by the fire, trying to get blood off my back with a wet rag. It was quiet. Not the scary quiet from last night. The other kind. The kind where you can hear someone breathing.

“You’re hurt,”

Sarah said finally.

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not.”

She stood, came over, and took the rag from me. Her fingers were warm. I stiffened.

“Sarah—”

“Shut up,”

she said softly.

“Let me.”

So I did. She cleaned the cuts. Slow. Careful. She didn’t flinch at the claw marks. Didn’t ask how they got there. Through the bond I felt it. No fear. No panic. Just... focus. And something else. Worry. For me. When she finished, she didn’t move away. Her hand rested on my shoulder for a second too long.

“You’re shaking,”

she whispered.

“Cold,”

I lied.

“It’s not cold.”

I turned my head. She was close. Too close. Snow still in her hair from last night. Eyes dark in the firelight. The mark on my throat pulsed. Not with pain. With her. For 19 years I’d been told omegas were weak. That they’d ruin a line. For 3 days I’d been told she was my curse. Right now she was the only thing keeping me standing.

“Sarah,”

I said. My voice was rough.

“Yeah?”

“Why did you follow me?”

She laughed. Quiet. Tired.

“Because you looked at me like I wasn’t trash.”

That broke something in me. I reached up and caught her hand. Brought it to my forehead.

I didn’t kiss it. I just... held it there. Her breath hitched. Through the bond, everything hit at once.

Relief. Exhaustion. Terror from last night. And underneath it all, something warm. Something that had been there since the forest. I don’t think either of us meant for it to happen. But then she leaned in.

And I didn’t stop her. It wasn’t a perfect kiss. We were both dirty, hurt, and scared. But it was real. Soft. Hesitant. Like we were asking permission and answering at the same time. When we pulled back, we were both breathing hard. Sarah touched the broken mark on my throat. This time it didn’t burn.

It warmed.

“I’m scared,”

she whispered.

“Me too.”

“Do you think... do you think we’re supposed to be like this?”

I looked at her. At the matching mark on her side. At the way she wasn’t looking away.

“I don’t know what we’re supposed to be,”

I said.

“But I know I don’t want to do this without you.”

She nodded. Leaning her forehead against mine. For a few minutes, the world outside didn’t exist. No Hollow. No Varga. No moon. Just us. And the fire. Then a knock at the door. Mara.

“Food. And Varga wants you at sundown. He’s found something.”

She left the tray and shut the door. Sarah and I stared at each other. Then burst out laughing. Quiet, shaky laughs. The moment was over. But her hand was still in mine. And for the first time since this started, I didn’t feel cursed. I felt chosen.