The Stranger At The Gate
745 Words
Storm clouds rolled over Thornveil by the time Calla and Riven returned from the Seer’s grove. The air held a charge that crawled across the skin like a warning. And the moment the manor came into view, they both knew something was wrong.
The guards at the outer walls were doubled.
Torches lined the pathway, though it was barely midday.
And at the very edge of the estate—just beyond the protective runes—stood a stranger.
He didn’t move.
Didn’t speak.
Didn’t blink.
But he watched the manor as if it belonged to him.
---
Calla froze, her breath caught.
“It’s him,” she whispered.
Riven’s body tensed beside her. “The second Moonblood.”
Calla dismounted without waiting. The closer she got to the gate, the stronger the bond pulled at her—an invisible thread from her chest to his. Her mark throbbed like a drumbeat.
The boy was tall, almost regal in the way he stood. His dark hair whipped around his face in the wind, and those silver eyes locked onto hers with terrifying familiarity.
“You came,” she said softly.
He inclined his head.
“Of course I did.”
---
Riven stepped forward, placing himself between them.
“You’re trespassing on Thornveil land. State your name and intent.”
The boy ignored him.
His eyes never left Calla.
“You don’t remember me,” he said.
Calla’s fingers curled into her palm. “I’ve seen you. In dreams. Visions.”
“You’ve seen echoes,” the boy said. “But once, we shared more than dreams. You called me Sol.”
Her breath caught. “Sol.”
The name hit something deep inside her. A door. A memory. A burning tower. A hand reaching for hers.
She staggered.
Riven caught her.
“That’s far enough,” he growled.
But Sol didn’t move. “I don’t want to hurt her.”
“You will if you stay,” Riven snapped.
Sol’s expression darkened. “And what if I told you she’s already dying because of you?”
Silence.
Calla’s voice trembled. “What does that mean?”
Sol looked at her then, really looked, and his voice was softer.
“You’ve taken the Blood Oath with him. But that magic wasn’t made for you. It’s corrupting you from the inside out. Every time he marks you, it twists what you are. What we are.”
Riven stepped in front of her, fury in every line of his body.
“You know nothing about our bond.”
Sol’s silver eyes burned. “I know it’s wrong.”
The runes at the border pulsed, reacting to the energy gathering between them.
Calla grabbed Riven’s arm. “Stop. Let me speak to him.”
Riven turned, jaw clenched. “He’s dangerous.”
“So am I.”
---
She stepped past the rune line.
Sol held out his hand.
She didn’t take it—but she didn’t move away either.
“What do you want from me?” she asked.
His eyes softened. “I want to remember. Us. What we were. What we were meant to be.”
“And if I don’t want that?”
He paused. “Then I’ll leave. But I had to see you. I had to know if you were still… you.”
“I’m not,” she said. “I don’t know who I am anymore.”
“You’re Moonblood,” he said. “But that doesn’t mean you’re theirs.”
He turned to leave.
“I’m staying in the forest beyond the eastern ridge. If you want answers… come alone.”
Then he was gone.
---
Back in the manor, the silence between Calla and Riven was louder than the storm.
“You’re angry,” she said.
“I’m worried,” he corrected. “You felt what I did out there. He’s not just some boy from a dream. He’s powerful. And he’s linked to you in ways I can’t compete with.”
Calla touched her chest. “It’s not about competition.”
“Isn’t it?” Riven’s voice broke. “Because if he has a claim on your soul, what does that make me? Just the mistake that got to you first?”
“No,” she said firmly. “You saved me. And I chose you.”
But even as she said it, her mark pulsed.
And she knew the bond with Sol wasn’t done yet.
Not even close.
- Writer
