Chapter Nineteen: Teeth and Flame
436 Words
The first explosion shakes the ground just before dawn.
Kael and I bolt from sleep, half-dressed, still aching from the night before.
The fire outside is already blooming—red and wild, consuming tents and trees like it was summoned by vengeance itself.
The camp is under attack.
“Eastern wolves,” Kael growls, eyes already shifting, body half-wolf. “They’ve broken the treaty line.”
I grab my blades.
He grabs me.
“You stay close. Don’t run from me again.”
“I’m not yours to command,” I snap, yanking free—but I follow him anyway.
Not for love.
Not for forgiveness.
For survival.
Outside, the world is chaos. Smoke curls like claws. Wolves clash—fur, blood, teeth. Screams tear through the air. I see Kael’s warriors dying. I see one fall right in front of me, throat torn open by a silver-fanged wolf bearing the Eastern mark.
I don’t hesitate.
I kill.
Blade in the ribs. Twist. Pull.
Blood sprays.
Kael sees it.
And something savage flashes in his eyes.
The war has no room for mourning.
He shifts fully—massive, black, powerful—and launches himself into the fray.
I move with him—like we’re tethered by instinct and rage.
Back-to-back.
Claw and steel.
Every time one of us falls, the other rises.
He shields my flank; I s***h the throat behind his blind side.
We're not speaking—but we’re in sync.
And that’s what makes it hurt.
Because we still fit.
Even broken.
Even bleeding.
A scream draws my attention—one of the young warriors, cornered by three wolves.
Kael is too far to help.
I don’t think.
I run.
I leap.
I tear.
I bleed.
Pain screams through my side as teeth sink into my shoulder. I go down—hard.
Then—
A roar.
A blur of black fur and fury.
Kael slams into my attacker, breaking its spine with a single bite.
He shifts back, kneels, and gathers me in his arms—wild, panting, bloody.
“You’re hurt,” he rasps.
“So are you.”
“I don’t care about me.”
“You should.”
I press my palm to his jaw.
His eyes search mine.
Not with anger.
Not with lust.
But fear.
Real, raw fear.
“You came back,” he whispers.
I nod.
“Don’t leave me again.”
“I can’t,” I say.
And it’s the truth.
Because in the middle of this war, he’s still the only thing I want—
Even if loving him might kill me.
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- Writer
