When we are one

Chapter 24 Anika and Corbin

The air in the room shifts as Gretel stands, her long shawl dragging across the floor like mist. She moves to a low cabinet, retrieving a bowl made of obsidian and a pouch filled with crushed herbs and glowing stones.

“This won’t be pleasant,” she says with a warning glance. “But clarity rarely is. To move forward safely, we must first uncover the thread that has always tied you both together.”

Anika grips Corbin’s hand tightly. He nods, steadying her. Ezra and Silvara stir beneath the surface, alert but strangely quiet, as though they sense something sacred is about to occur.

Gretel lays out two candles—one black, one silver—and a thin dagger etched with runes older than the moon goddess herself.

“Place a drop of blood in the bowl,” she instructs. “Both of you.”

Without hesitation, Corbin pricks his finger, as does Anika. Their blood drops mix in the obsidian bowl, fizzing slightly as Gretel chants in a language neither of them understands. She throws the herbs into the flame of the black candle, causing smoke to swirl in unnatural patterns.

“Now… look.”

The smoke shifts into a vivid silver mist, encircling their heads. Time slows, and suddenly—

Flashback

"Mother, Father, do we really have to be here?" young Corbin asked, his tone laced with discomfort. He looked around uneasily. "I don’t like the underworld… and neither does Josie."

"Hush now, Corbin," Luna Olivia said gently but firmly. "We’re here to visit your grandfather before he passes. He’s lived in the underworld since he left the pack. Your father needs to say goodbye. You and Josie will stay in the yard, quietly. And remember—don’t talk to anyone. It’s not safe here."

Corbin sighed dramatically, giving his mother a pointed glare before trudging off, leaving Josie quietly playing with her dolls in the dust.

“I’m not a baby,” he muttered to himself. “I don’t need to be told what I can or can’t do.”

A small laugh rang out behind him.

Corbin spun around, startled. A girl—no older than him—stood there, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with a strange light. Her hair was wild, her face smudged, but her gaze was fearless.

“You’re funny,” she said. “But you really shouldn’t be wandering around here. It’s not safe, Corbin.”

His eyes widened. “How do you know my name?”

The girl smirked and stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I know all sorts of things. One day… you’ll see what I mean.”

Before Corbin could respond, a rough voice growled from the shadows.

“Didn’t I tell you, rogue? Get me my dinner!”

A man with a jagged scar across his cheek stormed out from a nearby doorway, striking the girl hard across the face and shoving her to the ground. Corbin flinched, stunned and furious.

“I’m sorry, sir,” she said quickly, scrambling to her feet, her voice small but steady. She wiped a tear from her cheek and turned back toward Corbin, eyes still burning with something stronger than fear.

“I’ll see you again someday,” she said softly.

Then she ran.

Luna Olivia came rushing down the street moments later, breathless and frantic. “Corbin! Don’t you ever run off like that again!”

She grabbed his hand, not noticing how tightly he held it, or the way his eyes stayed fixed on the spot where the strange girl had disappeared.

Present Moment

Anika gasps, nearly falling backward, but Corbin catches her just in time. Their fingers are still locked, now trembling with memory and emotion.

“I… I remember,” Anika breathes, eyes wide and shimmering with tears. “You were the boy in the street. I never forgot your eyes.”

Corbin nods slowly, still trying to steady his own breath. “I thought it was a dream. My mother told me I imagined it—that my mind made something up to cope with the trip.”

Ezra rumbles low in Corbin’s chest. You found her once before we even knew she was ours.

Silvara hums quietly in Anika’s mind, Fate is never random. The moon goddess planted that seed long before either of you could understand it.

Gretel watches them with knowing eyes, a soft smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “The bond you share was forged in pain, long before love had a name. But love... has found you all the same.”

Anika wraps her arms around Corbin’s waist, burying her face in his chest. “I’m so tired of losing people, Corbin.”

“You’re not losing me,” he says firmly. “Not then, not now, not ever.”

Gretel’s eyes, glowing faintly with an otherworldly sheen, fixate on Anika as she reaches into the folds of her cloak. From within, she draws out a small glass vial—its contents shimmer with an amber-orange hue, glowing softly like captured sunlight.

“Well, here now, little Anika,” Gretel murmurs, her voice dipping into something almost reverent. “This should protect you… when you need it most.”

Anika accepts the vial with trembling fingers, her wolf and unborn pups stirring at the magic laced in the glass.

Corbin watches the exchange with quiet intensity, his hand instinctively moving to Anika’s lower back. “What is it?”

“A binding serum,” Gretel replies, her gaze flicking to him. “It will anchor her spirit to her body… if ever the veil tries to steal her again.”

The words send a chill down Corbin’s spine. Anika clutches the vial closer.

“But take heed,” the witch says, her expression turning grave. “You’ll need to work as one now. Not just as mates… but as soul-bound protectors. The magic you share—it’s ancient, rare, and very much feared.”

Corbin nods solemnly.

Gretel leans in slightly, her tone sharpening. “And be warned—someone in that precious pack of yours is not who they seem. One of them is working with the rogues. Feeding them information. Waiting for the right moment to strike.”

Anika stiffens. Corbin’s jaw clenches.

“Who?” he demands.

But Gretel only smiles—slow, eerie, and unhelpful. “If I told you… where would the fun be in that?”