Chapter Thirteen
991 Words
In the days after that night, things between Sabrina and Dmitri shifted—subtly, but undeniably. Their rhythm changed. Meals were shared more often than not. Quiet moments stretched longer. Conversations wandered into deeper waters.
The Sylvari Bond hummed steadily in the background, neither of them entirely sure where it was leading, only that it was pulling them closer. There was something sacred in the way they moved around each other now—easy, aware. In between her research and his quiet routines, they were slowly figuring out what it meant to be in this… whatever this was.
It was messy. It was tentative. And it was real.
Sabrina, deep in her study of the bond, had written to Seraphina with a flurry of questions. The ancient Fae had responded faster than usual, clearly intrigued. Scrolls arrived by enchanted raven, wrapped in silken cords and scented faintly of starlight and dust. Sabrina devoured them like a woman starving for answers.
One evening, as Dmitri handed her a mug of cocoa, she glanced up from a parchment with wide eyes. “You’re not gonna believe this.”
“Try me,” he said, settling onto the couch beside her.
She tapped the scroll. “The night I was born? Total lunar eclipse. The Fae call it the Eclipse Convergence. Super rare—like once every few hundred years rare. It thins the veil between magical realms. Bonds that form during it… they’re different. Deeper. Stronger. The Fae think they’re fated.”
Dmitri froze. His expression shifted—like an old door creaking open in the back of his mind. “The Eclipse Convergence,” he repeated, slowly. “That was… the same night as my first shift.”
She blinked. “Wait—seriously?”
He nodded, jaw tight. “Yeah. I haven’t thought about that night in decades. Not really. I was eleven. It hit out of nowhere—way too early. All I remember is pain and panic, and the way my pack looked at me afterward, like I was something broken.”
Sabrina’s voice dropped. “You weren’t.”
He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Didn’t feel that way. I spent years thinking it was just bad luck—or bad genes. But now? I don’t know… maybe it wasn’t random. Maybe we were both meant to come into the world that night.”
A silence settled over them, thick but not heavy—like something sacred had been named. Fate hadn’t just nudged them together. It had started writing this story before either of them had even spoken their first word.
Later that day, after hours spent translating ancient glyphs and unraveling half-legible Fae poetry, Sabrina stepped out into the garden, humming to herself. She bent to gather ripe vegetables, brushing dirt from carrots and tomatoes with the ease of someone who’d done this a hundred times. Dmitri followed with the baskets, content to let her lead.
“I’m thinking veggie stew tonight,” she said, handing him a handful of herbs. “Something warm.”
He grinned. “You always say that like your cooking doesn’t already have magic in it.”
She rolled her eyes. “It’s not magic if you can taste the onion.”
But before the words had fully left her mouth, Dmitri stopped cold.
He tilted his head. Listening.
“What is it?” she asked, standing straighter.
A low growl started deep in his chest. “Something’s off.”
Before she could ask anything else, a blur surged from the trees.
A massive wolf—scarred, lean, wild-eyed—burst from the shadows, charging straight for her. Sabrina didn’t hesitate. Her hand shot up, and a golden barrier snapped into place between them just as the wolf struck.
Dmitri was already moving. His form blurred, bones cracking, fur rippling as the man vanished and the wolf took over. Massive and dark, he slammed into the intruder mid-air, driving it hard into the garden soil.
Chaos erupted.
Snarls tore through the air. Claws ripped earth. Dmitri fought with precision and fury, his body a blur of muscle and instinct. The other wolf was vicious—fast, angry—but not prepared.
Sabrina held the barrier, magic humming under her skin, eyes locked on the battle. She could feel every movement through the bond—rage, pain, protectiveness. Her breath hitched with each clash of teeth and muscle.
Then Dmitri lunged, jaws clamping down on the intruder’s throat. Blood hit the soil. The enemy howled, writhing, and finally broke free—limping, half-dead, dragging itself back into the woods.
Dmitri started after it, growling low and furious—but stopped short.
He returned to the porch moments later, shifting back as he stepped out of the shadows. His skin bore fresh cuts and bruises, but he was steady. His eyes found hers immediately, his arms encircling her without a word.
She melted into him, burying her face against his chest. For a few heartbeats, neither of them moved.
“You okay?” he asked, voice rough.
She nodded, muffled against his shirt. “Yeah. You?”
“I’ve had worse.”
She leaned back just enough to see his face, then reached for his hand. He took it without hesitation.
They stood like that in the wrecked garden, the night holding its breath. Between them, the Sylvari Bond shimmered—warm, grounding, real.
“You think that was random?” she asked.
Dmitri shook his head. “No. Someone sent it. Or it was tracking me. Either way… this isn’t over.”
Sabrina squeezed his hand. “Then we deal with it. Together.”
He looked at her for a long moment. Not startled. Not afraid. Just… steady.
“Yeah,” he said. “Together.”
And as the stars blinked to life above the trees, the silence that settled wasn’t peace. It wasn’t certainty.
But it was trust.
- Writer
