Chapter nine
1093 Words
The forest swallowed us the moment we crossed beyond the chapel’s broken threshold.
Kael moved like he belonged to the dark—silent, certain, every step measured. I stumbled once on a root hidden beneath moss, and his grip tightened instantly, steadying me without slowing his pace. The cloak hung heavy around my shoulders, smelling faintly of pine, iron, and him. Each breath I took felt fuller than the last, as though the air itself bent to make room for me.
For us.
Behind us, the chapel loomed in silence, its stones already fading into shadow. I didn’t look back. Whatever version of me had curled beneath Mrs. Hawthorne’s shawl belonged to that ruin now.
The bond hummed between us, no longer frantic—alert. Watchful. It stretched forward like a thread tugging us deeper into the woods, guiding Kael along paths I couldn’t see.
“How far?” I whispered.
“Until we cross the river gorge,” he replied quietly. “Old boundary line. The Alpha’s influence weakens there.”
That word again.
Alpha.
It sat heavy in my chest, carrying Kael’s father with it like a shadow stitched to the sound. I’d never seen the man, but I felt him—cold authority, sharp-edged control—like a presence hovering just outside my thoughts.
“And after that?” I asked.
Kael didn’t answer right away.
Branches scratched at our cloaks as we wove between ancient trees. Somewhere in the distance, an owl cried out, the sound sharp in the quiet. My senses felt… wrong. Too sharp. Every rustle set my nerves singing, every scent layering over another until my head spun.
Power.
The Moon’s Mark stirred again, subtle but awake, like it was listening.
“We’ll go north,” Kael said finally. “To the highlands. There are old clans there. Ones my father doesn’t control.”
“Will they accept me?”
He glanced back at me then, silver eyes catching what little moonlight remained. “They’ll fear you.”
My stomach twisted. “That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” he agreed softly. “But it’s a start.”
We reached the river just as dawn began to bleed into the sky—pale pink cutting through indigo. The gorge yawned wide and deep, water roaring far below. A narrow stone bridge arched across it, old and cracked but still standing.
Kael slowed, his posture shifting. Alert. Tense.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The bond,” he said. “It’s… pulling.”
I felt it too then—a sudden tightening, like the thread between us had gone taut. Not fear. Not pain.
Awareness.
“He knows,” I whispered.
Kael’s jaw clenched. “Not fully. But he feels the change.”
As if summoned by the thought, a ripple of pressure rolled through the air. The forest stilled. Birds fell silent. Even the river’s roar seemed to dull for a heartbeat.
Authority pressed down on me, heavy and suffocating.
Alpha.
Kael stepped in front of me without hesitation, his body a solid barrier. “Stay behind me,” he murmured.
A shape emerged from the trees at the far end of the bridge—tall, broad-shouldered, cloaked in dark leather. He didn’t rush. He didn’t need to.
He walked like the world would move aside if it dared resist him.
“Kael,” the man called, voice smooth and cold as winter stone. “You disappoint me.”
My breath caught. Even without seeing his face clearly, I knew.
The Alpha.
Kael’s shoulders squared. “You don’t get to say my name like that anymore.”
A soft, humorless chuckle drifted across the gorge. “Still defiant. I hoped the years might have tempered that.”
The Alpha’s gaze slid past Kael—and locked onto me.
I felt it like a hook sinking into my ribs.
“So,” he said thoughtfully. “This is her.”
Kael growled low in his throat, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Don’t look at her.”
“Why not?” the Alpha asked. “She’s quite remarkable. I felt her power ignite from miles away.”
My skin prickled. The Mark pulsed, silver heat spreading through my veins in response to his attention. Not fear.
Defiance.
“She’s not yours,” Kael snapped.
The Alpha smiled then, slow and sharp. “Everything in this territory is mine.”
Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward, my hand tightening in Kael’s.
“No,” I said.
Both of them froze.
The Alpha’s brows lifted slightly. “You speak boldly for someone who doesn’t understand what she is.”
“I know exactly what I am,” I replied, surprised by the steadiness in my voice. “I’m not a weapon. And I’m not yours to claim.”
The air seemed to c***k.
For a moment, I thought he might laugh.
Instead, his expression hardened. “You would do well to remember your place, girl.”
The bond flared—hot, protective, furious.
Kael shifted instantly, wolf flashing beneath his skin, teeth bared. “Say one more word to her and I will tear out your throat.”
Silence fell, thick and dangerous.
Then, slowly, the Alpha raised a hand. “Enough.”
He studied Kael, then me, something calculating glinting behind his eyes. “This isn’t over. Bonds forged in defiance tend to break… messily.”
My heart hammered, but I didn’t look away. “We’ll survive.”
His gaze flicked to my chest, where the Mark pulsed unseen. “We’ll see.”
With that, he stepped back into the trees—and vanished.
The pressure lifted instantly. The forest exhaled.
I realized I was shaking.
Kael turned to me, hands gripping my shoulders. “Are you alright?”
I nodded, though tears burned behind my eyes. “I think so.”
He pulled me into his chest, holding me tight—not crushing this time, but grounding. “You were incredible,” he murmured. “And reckless.”
A weak laugh escaped me. “I’m guessing that runs in the bond.”
A corner of his mouth twitched. “Unfortunately.”
The sky brightened as the sun crested the horizon, warm light spilling over the gorge. For the first time, I noticed the way the silver in Kael’s eyes softened in daylight—still fierce, but less haunted.
“We can’t linger,” he said. “But… you should know something.”
I looked up at him. “What?”
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