"Until it becomes natural." His hands slid from my shoulders down my arms, adjusting my stance. "Your posture affects your magic flow. Stand straighter."
I straightened my spine. The magic shifted, becoming slightly easier to control.
"Better. Now, without opening your eyes, I want you to send a controlled burst of magic toward the stream."
"How?"
"Visualize it. See it in your mind—a thin stream of silver light, aimed precisely where you want it to go."
I pictured it. A narrow beam of magic shot from my palm toward the water.
"Now release it."
I opened my palm and let a small amount of magic flow out.
Nothing happened.
"I felt that," Kael said. "But it was too weak. Try again. More power, but still controlled."
I tried again. This time, a faint shimmer appeared in front of my hand, but it dispersed before reaching the stream.
"Closer. Again."
We practiced for over an hour. Each attempt got a little better, a little more controlled.
Finally, I managed to send a thin beam of silver light straight into the stream. Water exploded upward in a small fountain.
"Yes!" I opened my eyes, grinning. "I did it!"
"You did." Kael's smile matched mine. "Now do it ten more times."
My excitement dimmed. "Ten?"
"Consistency is key. One success means nothing if you can't repeat it."
He was a relentless teacher. But by the time we finished, I could hit the stream with precision every single time.
"Good work," he said. "Now let's combine everything you've learned."
"There's more?"
"Always." He picked up the practice swords again. "This time, we fight while you maintain magic control. No wild power. Every strike enhanced, but precise."
This was harder than anything we'd done before. Fighting required full concentration. So did maintaining the magic. Doing both at once felt impossible.
But Kael was patient. Every time I lost control, he'd stop and have me reset. Every time I got frustrated, he'd remind me why this mattered.
"The Cult won't give you time to gather your power," he said. "You need to be ready."
By late afternoon, I was managing it. Not perfectly, but well enough that Kael stopped correcting me as often.
"Let's take an actual break," he finally said. "You've earned it."
I practically collapsed on the grass by the stream. Every muscle hurt. My magic felt drained. Even the mate bond seemed tired.
Kael sat beside me, pulling food from his pack. "Here. Eat."
"Too tired to eat."
"Eat anyway. You need your strength."
He was right, as usual. I forced myself to chew through bread and dried meat.
We sat in comfortable silence, watching the stream flow past. The sun was starting to lower, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink.
"Thank you," I said eventually.
"For what?"
"For pushing me. For not letting me stay weak."
"You were never weak." He looked at me, expression serious. "You just didn't know how strong you were. I'm just helping you see it."
The mate bond pulsed with warmth. With love.
I leaned against his shoulder. "Tell me we're going to survive this. The mountains. The Cult. All of it."
"We will survive this."
"How can you be so sure?"
"Because we have each other. And that makes us unstoppable." He pressed a kiss to the top of my head. "Besides, I didn't wait two hundred years just to lose you now."
"Two hundred years," I murmured. "That's such a long time to be alone."
"It was. But it made finding you that much sweeter."
I tilted my head up to look at him. "No regrets?"
"Not a single one." His hand cupped my face. "You're worth everything, Sophia. Every year of waiting. Every moment of loneliness. All of it led me to you."
He kissed me then, softly. The mate bond sang between us, a harmony only we could hear.
When we broke apart, the sun had dipped below the horizon. Twilight was falling.
"We should head back to camp," Kael said reluctantly. "Marcus will worry."
"One more minute?"
"One more minute."
We stayed by the stream, wrapped in each other's arms, as the stars began to appear overhead.
Tomorrow we'd continue north. Closer to danger. Closer to the fight that would determine everything.
But tonight, in this moment, we had peace.
And that was enough.
When we returned to camp, Marcus had dinner ready.
"How'd it go?" he asked.
"She's a natural," Kael said. "Give her another week, and she'll be better than most warriors I've trained."
"We don't have a week," I reminded him.
"Then we'll make do with what we have." He settled beside the fire. "Tomorrow we'll work on combining your magic with group tactics."
"Group tactics?"
"You, me, and Marcus fighting together. Using your Silvermane ability to enhance our strength."
I'd almost forgotten about that. The power my mother's journal had mentioned—the ability to share strength with other wolves.
"I don't know if I can do that," I admitted.
"You can. We'll figure it out together."
After dinner, Marcus volunteered for first watch again. I suspected he was giving Kael and me privacy, and I appreciated it.
We laid out our sleeping bags close together, the fire crackling nearby.
"Tell me something," I said as we settled in. "In two hundred years, did you ever... were there others?"
"Others?"
"Other women. Relationships."
He was quiet for a moment. "There were... companions. Over the years. No one serious."
"Why not?"
"Because they weren't you." He rolled onto his side, facing me. "I could feel it—the emptiness where the mate bond should be. I tried to ignore it, tried to move on. But nothing ever felt right."
"That sounds lonely."
"It was. But it also made me certain that when I finally found my mate, I'd know. And I did." His fingers traced my jaw. "The moment I saw you, everything clicked into place."
"Even though I was running for my life and covered in blood?"
"Especially then. You were fierce. Protective. Everything I'd been searching for."
I moved closer, eliminating the small space between our sleeping bags. "Show me."
"Show you what?"
"How it feels. Through the bond. Show me what you felt that first moment."
His eyes darkened. "Sophia..."
"Please."
He pulled me against him, our bodies pressed together. Then he opened the mate bond fully, letting me feel everything.
The rush of recognition. The fierce need to protect. The certainty that his long search was finally over.
And underneath it all, overwhelming love.
I gasped at the intensity of it. "Kael..."
"That's what I feel every time I look at you," he murmured. "Every moment. Every breath."
I kissed him, pouring my feelings back through the bond. My gratitude. My trust. My love.
We made out like teenagers, hands exploring, hearts racing. But we didn't go further. Not with Marcus just outside and danger so close.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard.
"Tomorrow night," Kael promised. "After we make camp. I'm going to finish what we just started."
Heat pooled low in my belly. "Promise?"
"Promise."
We fell asleep tangled together, the mate bond humming contentedly between us.
The next day's training was even more intense.
Kael worked with Marcus and me, teaching us to fight as a unit. How to cover each other's weaknesses. How to communicate without words.
And he pushed me to try the Silvermane ability—sharing my strength with them.
"Physical contact," I said, reading from my mother's journal during a break. "It requires touch and focused intention."
"Then let's try it," Marcus said. "What's the worst that could happen?"
"I could accidentally drain your energy instead of sharing mine."
"That doesn't sound so bad. I could use a nap."
Despite the danger, we tried it. I placed one hand on Kael's shoulder and one on Marcus's, then focused on the magic in my core.
This time, instead of gathering it, I tried to push it outward. Share it.
The magic resisted at first. It wanted to stay contained. But I pushed harder, imagining it flowing through my hands into them.
Suddenly, the connection snapped into place.
Silver light flowed from me into both of them. I could feel their strength, their essence, mixing with mine.
Kael's eyes widened. "Moon Goddess. I can feel it. It's like... like being supercharged."
Marcus flexed his hands. "This is incredible. How long can you maintain it?"
Already, I could feel the drain. "Not long. Maybe a minute? Two at most?"
"That's enough," Kael said. "In a crucial moment, that extra strength could mean the difference between life and death."
We practiced until I could trigger it reliably. Each time left me exhausted, but it got easier.
By the time the sun was setting on our second day of travel, I'd mastered three new skills: precision magic control, enhanced combat, and strength sharing.
"You're ready," Kael said as we made camp that night. "Tomorrow we reach the foothills. The day after, the mountains. And then..."
"And then we face whatever's waiting," I finished.
He nodded. "Are you scared?"
"Terrified."
"Good. Fear keeps you sharp." He pulled me close. "But remember—you're not alone. We're in this together."
"Together," I echoed.
Marcus had already disappeared into his tent, pointedly giving us privacy.
Kael looked at me, heat in his silver-blue eyes. "I believe I made you a promise last night."
My pulse quickened. "You did."
"Then let's keep it."
He kissed me, deep and hungry. And this time, there was no holding back.
We stumbled into our tent, hands already pulling at clothes. The mate bond blazed between us, amplifying every touch, every sensation.
We made love slowly, savoring each moment. Learning each other's bodies all over again.
And when we finished, lying tangled together in the darkness, I felt complete.
Whatever tomorrow brought—danger, death, or destiny—we'd face it together.
The morning air was a bit cold as we broke camp.
I could see them now—the Frostfang Mountains rising like jagged teeth against the pale sky. Snow capped their peaks, glinting white in the early light.
We were close. Too close.
"How far to the temple?" Marcus asked, rolling up his sleeping bag.
Kael studied the mountains, his expression unreadable. "Half a day to the foothills. Another day to reach the temple itself. Maybe less if we push hard."
"Then we push hard," I said. "The longer we wait, the more time Leighton has to catch up."
"And the more time the Cult has to find the Moon's Tear," Marcus added.
We packed quickly and started walking. The terrain grew rougher with each mile—flat forest giving way to rocky slopes and sparse trees. The temperature dropped steadily.
By midday, we'd entered the foothills proper. Massive boulders jutted from the earth like broken bones. The wind howled through narrow passes, carrying the scent of snow and something else.
Something wrong.
"Do you smell that?" I asked.
Kael's nostrils flared. "Blood. Old blood."
We rounded a boulder and stopped dead.
Bodies.
Three wolves in human form sprawled across the rocks. Their throats had been torn out. The wounds were days old, the blood dried black.
"Cult patrols," Marcus said grimly, crouching beside one. "These are Silver Moon wolves. Scouts, probably."
"Leighton's people," I breathed. So he'd sent more than just Derek's team. "The cult killed them."
"As a warning." Kael pointed to marks carved into the nearest boulder. Symbols I didn't recognize, drawn in what looked like blood. "These are ward signs. Territory markers. We're entering cult-controlled land."
A chill that had nothing to do with cold ran down my spine. "How many patrols do they have?"
"Enough to kill three trained warriors without a fight." Kael straightened. "We need to be more careful. No more walking in the open."
We moved slower after that, using cover and staying low.
The sun climbed higher, but the shadows seemed to deepen.