"You're lying."
Seraphina's voice cut through the silence like a blade. She clutched the spellbook tighter to her chest, her knuckles white.
Fenris didn't flinch. "I wish I was."
She scoffed, stepping back into the ruins, her eyes never leaving his. "Save the riddles for someone who cares. I don't want your prophecy, your kingdom, or your fate."
"Then what do you want?" he asked.
Seraphina didn't answer immediately. The truth was... she didn't know. All she'd wanted was to survive. To escape the curse on her family's bloodline. To destroy the ones who had destroyed her. But now?
Now her life was spiraling into something she hadn't planned.
And it all started the moment she met him.
"I want you gone," she said coldly.
Fenris raised a brow. "And if I don't leave?"
"Then I'll make you."
He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, his presence washing over her like a storm. "You're welcome to try."
Their eyes locked, heat swirling between them like a wildfire waiting for a spark.
But Seraphina didn't give in. She shoved the book into her satchel, turned her back on him, and began walking toward the forest.
He didn't stop her. Not immediately.
But the second she reached the edge of the trees, his voice caught her again.
"You think I wanted this?" he said. "You think I asked the moon to bind me to a girl with a dagger for a tongue and a heart made of steel?"
She froze.
"I didn't choose you," he continued, voice low and raw. "But I'd be a fool to ignore you."
She turned, eyes blazing. "Then don't ignore me. Leave me."
"I can't."
"Why?"
"Because we're not done yet."
A silence stretched between them—so sharp it cut through the wind.
"I'm not part of your war, Fenris," she said, for the first time calling him by name.
"You are now," he replied.
She opened her mouth to protest, but before she could speak, the spellbook in her bag pulsed—hard.
Seraphina staggered back, a glowing red mark suddenly burning across her wrist.
"What the—?" She hissed in pain as the mark spread, curling like ancient script up her forearm.
Fenris was already moving, his eyes widening. "It's reacting to you."
"No… it's binding me."
"You opened it?"
"I had to—" she gasped, falling to her knees.
Fenris was beside her in a flash, grabbing her arm, his warmth soothing the sting of the glowing mark. "You've activated a blood pact."
"With who?"
He didn't answer immediately. Then he said the one name she feared.
"With me."
Her heart stopped.
"No," she whispered.
"You touched the spellbook while thinking of me. While the moon was full. While our bond was still forming. The magic... recognized us."
"This can't be happening…"
"I didn't plan this."
"Then unbind it!" she snapped.
"I can't."
They stared at each other—two enemies, two fates colliding.
Seraphina's chest heaved. "I won't be your puppet, Fenris. I won't be dragged into your war."
"Then make a deal with me," he said suddenly.
Her eyes narrowed. "A deal?"
"Yes. A temporary alliance. You help me stop what's coming. In return… I'll help you uncover the truth about your bloodline."
Her breath caught. "You know about the curse?"
"I know more than you think. Including who cursed your family… and why."
Silence. Her pulse pounded in her ears.
"What's the catch?" she asked.
"There always is one, right?"
He leaned closer, his voice like thunder wrapped in silk. "The catch is… you have to trust me."
She laughed bitterly. "I'd rather trust a venomous snake."
"Then you'll die with questions you never get to ask."
They stood there, wind howling through the broken ruins, the moon slipping behind clouds, the world waiting.
Finally, Seraphina reached out and offered her hand. "One condition."
"Name it."
"No touching."
Fenris smirked. "Afraid you'll like it?"
She narrowed her eyes. "Afraid I'll stab you."
He took her hand.
And the bond sealed itself with a sharp pulse of magic—one that shimmered briefly in the air around them before vanishing like mist.
It was done.
They were bound—by blood, by fate, and now… by choice.
For better or worse.