Chapter Ten
1226 Words
Kael hesitated.
It was the smallest pause—barely a breath—but after everything we’d just survived, it felt monumental. His jaw tightened, gaze drifting past me to the gorge as if the truth lay somewhere in the rushing water below.
“The bond isn’t just recognition,” he said at last. His voice was low, careful. “It’s a covenant.”
The word settled heavily between us.
“Older than packs,” he continued. “Older than Alphas.”
My pulse stuttered. The morning air suddenly felt thinner, sharper, like the forest itself had leaned in to listen.
“You mean… mates?” I asked quietly.
“No.” The answer came instantly, firm enough to cut through the thought before it could take root. Kael turned back to me then, silver eyes intent. “Not that. This is older. Rarer.”
He searched my face, as if bracing for fear, rejection—something. I wasn’t sure what he found there, because I didn’t fully understand what I felt. Awe, maybe. And something else. Something vast.
“It binds protector and catalyst,” he said. “Guardian and Moon-marked.”
The words resonated in my chest, setting the Mark humming beneath my skin.
I swallowed. “And which am I supposed to be?”
His hands slid from my shoulders to my arms, grip gentler now. Grounding. “You’re the catalyst,” he said. “You don’t just carry power—you change the balance around you. Authority bends. Packs shift. Old laws wake up.”
I looked back toward the trees where the Alpha had vanished, unease coiling tight in my stomach. “That’s why he felt it. Why he came.”
Kael nodded once. “My father has ruled by instinct and fear for decades. But this?” His gaze flicked to my chest. “This threatens the structure itself.”
The river roared beneath us, louder now, as if echoing his words.
“So that’s why he wants me,” I said slowly. “Control the change.”
“Yes.” His voice was grim. “Bind you to his rule, and every clan would follow. Not out of loyalty. Out of compulsion.”
A chill traced my spine.
“And if I refused?”
His mouth tightened. “Then he’d try to break you. Or break the bond.”
My breath caught. “You said that doesn’t end well.”
“No,” Kael said quietly. “It never does.”
Silence stretched between us, filled only by water and wind. Somewhere high above, a hawk cried out, sharp and lonely.
I stared at my hands, at the faint silver glow that pulsed just beneath the skin when I focused. “I didn’t ask for any of this.”
“I know.” His voice softened. “None of the Moon-marked do.”
I laughed weakly. “That’s comforting.”
A corner of his mouth twitched, then fell serious again. “Listen to me. What you said back there—standing up to him—most wolves would have bowed without thinking. Even Alphas.”
“I didn’t feel brave,” I admitted. “I felt… angry. Like he was trying to put me in a box I didn’t fit into.”
“That,” Kael said, eyes dark with something like pride, “is exactly what makes you dangerous to him.”
The bond pulsed between us—steady, resolute. Not possession. Choice.
I straightened, letting the fear settle into something harder. “Then we don’t give him another chance.”
Kael’s lips curved into a slow, fierce smile. “That’s my Moon-marked.”
Together, we stepped onto the bridge.
The stone was cold beneath my boots, cracked and uneven, but solid. Each step carried us farther from the forest behind us—and deeper into whatever waited ahead. I felt the boundary as we crossed it, a subtle shift like pressure releasing from my lungs.
The Alpha’s presence faded.
Not gone. But distant.
Kael exhaled, shoulders easing for the first time since dawn. “We’re across.”
I hadn’t realized how tightly I’d been wound until my knees threatened to give. He caught me instantly, steadying me with a hand at my back.
“Easy,” he murmured.
“I’m fine,” I lied, then huffed a breath. “Mostly.”
He guided me the rest of the way, and when we reached the far side, the forest felt different. Wilder. Less ordered. The trees grew where they pleased, roots tangling freely across the earth. The air smelled older, sharper—less like control and more like freedom.
“This land isn’t claimed,” Kael said. “No pack holds it. That’s why the boundary still works.”
“And the highlands?” I asked.
“Days from here,” he replied. “But we won’t take the main paths. Too visible.”
I nodded. “Of course.”
We moved again, following a narrow trail that barely deserved the name. As the sun climbed higher, warmth soaked into my skin, easing the last of the tremors. The bond remained alert but calm, no longer screaming danger—just awareness.
After a while, I broke the silence.
“Kael?”
“Yes.”
“You said you were born to stop him.”
He didn’t slow. “My father believes strength is measured by obedience. By how much he can bend others to his will.”
“And you don’t.”
“I believe strength is restraint,” he said. “And choice.”
I glanced at him. “That must have gone over well.”
A dry sound escaped him. “You could say that.”
We paused near a stream to rest. I crouched, splashing cool water on my face, watching silver shimmer faintly in the ripples as the Mark responded. It didn’t frighten me anymore.
It felt… awake.
“Kael,” I said slowly. “If the clans fear me—if they see me as a threat—what happens then?”
He knelt across from me, expression earnest. “Then we show them you’re not a weapon.”
“And if they don’t listen?”
“Then we survive long enough that they have to.”
I studied him for a long moment. “You really believe that.”
“Yes.” His gaze held mine. “Because I believe in you.”
Something warm and fierce unfurled in my chest.
Not destiny.
Trust.
I stood, brushing dirt from my palms. “Alright, Guardian,” I said, testing the word.
His brow lifted. “Is that what we’re calling me now?”
“Seems fair,” I replied. “Unless you prefer something else.”
A faint smile returned. “Guardian will do.”
We set off again as the forest thickened around us. The path ahead was uncertain, dangerous, and tangled with forces older than either of us.
But for the first time since the Mark had appeared, I didn’t feel like I was being dragged toward a future I couldn’t escape.
I was walking into it.
And whatever waited in the highlands—old clans, ancient laws, or my father’s shadow reaching farther than I hoped—we would face it together.
Not as subjects.
Not as weapons.
But as change.
- Writer
