I stood frozen.
The mist was gone. The silver-eyed man had vanished like smoke on the wind, but his words still clung to me like frost. "Bearer & Breaker. The blood knows its own."
I looked at him—the gray wolf who wasn't just a wolf.
Kael.
His name rang in my head like a memory I'd never made but always carried.
Half-man, Half-beast. Cursed by blood. Yet… still watching me like I was something precious or dangerous.
I held the blade tighter in my hand—not to strike, but to remind myself this was real. That the markings on his chest were the same glowing etchings as on the hilt. That this was the truth.
I was descended from witches who'd once shaken the earth.
He was the last of a royal bloodline that had doomed them.
Yet here we were, not enemies.
Not quite anything… but still everything.
I backed up slightly, but didn't run.
"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered, my voice barely louder than the wind.
He took a step toward me—limping slightly, his form flickering as if the enchantment was too heavy for him to bear fully.
"Because I didn't know if you'd still stay," he said, his voice deep, rough like bark cracking in fire. "I was supposed to protect you, not bind you to my curse."
His words hit something in me. I blinked quickly. "But we're already bound… aren't we?"
He looked at me, then away. His silence was answer enough.
Something ancient had started unraveling in my blood. A memory that wasn't mine pulsed behind my eyes.
I wasn't just Sophie anymore.
I was the last root of something sacred… and broken.
The Guardian Spirit's POV
She does not yet understand.
But she will.
From the high limbs of an ancient sentinel tree, I watched the bearer and the breaker reunite. Their souls hum when they're close. The curse tied to them is older than most magic still remembered.
Fate always circles back to its source.
The forest had awakened the moment she stepped beyond the veil. Now the forest breathes with their combined presence.
I shift, unseen. The leaves rustle with my movement, but they do not fall.
The moment of balance draws near… but so does the threat.
The last child of the Valecrest line stalks the edge of the east border—eyes hungry, anger passed down like inheritance.
If the bearer and the breaker do not unite in time…
The curse will not be broken.
It will consume them both.
Tracker POV – Ronan (Beta) of the Valecrest
The air stank of old magic and wet leaves.
I crouched low, my dagger dipped in wolfsbane oil, glowing faintly under the forest light. The scent trail was clear now. Kael hadn't even tried to hide it.
Sloppy. Not like the prince at all.
Then again… cursed ones always lose their edge eventually.
Ronan pushed through the bramble, eyes flickering yellow for a moment before he reined it in. He wasn't here to fight yet. Just to watch. To confirm.
And what he saw made his lip curl.
The girl. She stood before Kael—who now shifted awkwardly between his beast and man form. She knew now. And she hadn't run.
"How poetic," he muttered under his breath. "The last apothecary and the cursed prince playing soulmates in a cursed forest."
He knew the stories.
He knew what the union of their bloodlines meant.
And he wasn't about to let history rewrite itself.
Not when the Valecrest pack had been waiting generations for the chance to rise in Kael's absence.
He turned silently back into the shadows, slipping a black raven-feather talisman from his coat.
Time to report back.