Chapter eleven
1364 Words
The forest thickened as afternoon bled toward evening.
Branches knitted overhead, filtering the light into fractured silver and green. The path—if it could still be called that—narrowed until it became instinct more than direction. Kael moved with quiet certainty, every step measured, every pause deliberate. I followed without question, trusting the way the bond hummed softly when we were aligned and tugged when I strayed.
It wasn’t loud.
That was the strangest part.
Power, I was learning, didn’t need to shout.
We crossed a ridge where the land dipped suddenly, revealing a stretch of valley below—wide, untamed, dotted with stone ruins half-swallowed by moss and time. My breath caught.
“What is that?” I asked.
Kael slowed, gaze sharpening. “Old watchgrounds. Pre-pack era.” He hesitated, then added, “Some clans still consider them sacred.”
“Still?” I echoed.
“Few remember why,” he said. “Fewer care.”
The Mark stirred, a low thrum beneath my ribs, warmer now. Curious.
I swallowed. “It feels like it knows this place.”
Kael glanced at me. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
We descended carefully, loose stone shifting beneath our boots. The closer we got, the heavier the air felt—not oppressive, but dense, like the world here carried more memory than elsewhere.
At the edge of the ruins, Kael stopped abruptly.
I nearly collided with his back.
“Kael—?”
“Wait.”
His hand lifted, palm outward. The bond tightened—not warning, exactly, but attention. I followed his gaze.
Someone stood among the stones.
Not hidden. Not threatening.
Just… waiting.
She was wrapped in a weather-worn cloak the colour of ash, hood lowered to reveal dark hair braided with feathers and bone charms that clicked softly when she moved. Her eyes were pale—almost translucent—and fixed directly on me.
Not Kael.
Me.
My pulse spiked. “Do you know her?”
“No,” Kael said quietly. “But I know what she is.”
The woman inclined her head, a gesture that felt less like greeting and more like acknowledgment.
“You crossed the boundary sooner than expected,” she said.
Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried. The ruins seemed to lean toward it.
Kael stepped slightly in front of me. “State your name.”
She smiled faintly. “You don’t need it.” Her gaze never left my face. “She does.”
The Mark flared—bright, sharp, undeniable.
I sucked in a breath, pain and clarity colliding. Images flashed behind my eyes: moons layered over moons, stone circles lit by firelight, wolves kneeling—not in submission, but in witness.
I staggered.
Kael caught me instantly. “Easy.”
“I’m fine,” I said again, though this time my voice shook. “She triggered it.”
The woman’s smile widened by a fraction. “Not triggered. Recognised.”
Kael’s eyes darkened. “You said the Moon-marked didn’t awaken fully without ritual.”
“They don’t,” she agreed. “Unless the world decides it can’t wait.”
That did nothing to calm me.
I straightened, stepping out from behind Kael despite his clear displeasure. “You knew I was coming.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he would follow.”
“Yes.”
“And you just… waited?”
Her gaze softened, something like approval flickering there. “You ask the right questions.”
Kael bristled. “Answer them.”
She finally looked at him then. Really looked. Something unreadable crossed her face. “Guardian,” she said.
His shoulders stiffened.
“You carry the old oath poorly,” she continued, not unkindly. “But you carry it honestly.”
“That’s not an answer,” he snapped.
“No,” she agreed. “It’s context.”
The silence stretched, thick with unspoken things.
Finally, I said, “Why are you here?”
The woman turned back to me. “Because the clans are already moving.”
My stomach dropped. “That’s not possible. We just crossed.”
“The Alpha felt the shift,” she said. “Others will too. Some already have.”
Kael cursed under his breath.
“Then we need to keep moving,” I said. “If we stay ahead—”
“You can’t outrun what’s waking,” she interrupted gently. “You can only decide how it wakes.”
The Mark pulsed again, slower now. Patient.
“What does that mean?” I asked.
She stepped closer, stopping just short of the bond’s invisible edge. “It means you were never meant to hide in the highlands forever.”
Kael stiffened. “We never said forever.”
She arched a brow. “You didn’t need to.”
I exhaled slowly. “Then what were I meant to do?”
For the first time, the woman hesitated.
“When the Moon marks a catalyst,” she said carefully, “it’s not to crown them.”
“Good,” I muttered.
“It’s to test the world,” she continued. “To see which laws still deserve to stand.”
A chill slid through me—not fear, but gravity.
“And if they don’t?” I asked.
“Then they break,” she said simply.
Kael turned to me, alarm clear now. “This is what I was trying to protect you from.”
I met his gaze. “Or what you were trying to buy me time to face.”
His jaw clenched.
The woman watched us with something like satisfaction. “You’re already changing it,” she said. “Look at him.”
Kael scoffed. “I haven’t changed.”
She smiled. “You’re standing beside her instead of in front.”
That landed harder than any threat.
Kael said nothing.
I drew a slow breath. “If I do this—whatever this is—I won’t be owned. Not by packs. Not by prophecy.”
“Good,” she said. “Ownership poisons the work.”
“And I choose who stands with me,” I added.
Her eyes flicked to Kael. “As you already have.”
I felt the bond respond—not tightening, not claiming. Anchoring.
Kael stepped forward, voice steady despite the tension in his frame. “If the clans come for her—”
“They will,” the woman said.
“—then they answer to me first.”
She studied him for a long moment. Then she nodded. “As it should be.”
I frowned. “You keep saying things like this was planned.”
She shrugged lightly. “Not planned. Remembered.”
“By who?”
She looked past us, toward the deepening forest, where the land rose toward the highlands and beyond them—old seats of power, old grudges.
“By the world,” she said.
The sun dipped lower, shadows stretching long across the ruins. Somewhere in the distance, a howl echoed—not close, but not as far as I’d like.
The woman pulled her hood up. “You don’t have much time.”
“Will we see you again?” I asked.
She paused. “If you’re doing it right.”
And then she was gone—no dramatic exit, no burst of magic. One step into shadow, and the forest swallowed her whole.
I stood there longer than I realised, heart pounding.
Kael finally broke the silence. “We need to move. Now.”
I nodded, resolve settling deeper than fear. “They won’t all come to control me.”
“No,” he agreed grimly. “Some will come to kill you.”
“Then they’ll have to look me in the eye first,” I said.
He glanced at me, something fierce and protective and changed flickering there. “You’re learning faster than I expected.”
I met his gaze, steady. “The world doesn’t seem interested in waiting.”
Together, we turned toward the rising land.
Toward the clans.
Toward laws that had slept too long.
The forest closed in behind us—not trapping, not guiding.
Watching.
- Writer
