The forest swallowed her whole.
Elara didn't bother lighting a lantern when she reached her cabin. The moonlight through the window was enough—cold, silver, and sharp against the worn wooden floor. Her breath fogged faintly in the dim air as she sank down on the edge of her bed, elbows braced on her knees.
Everything was too quiet.
No murmurs from the pack houses, no footsteps, no laughter from the gathering hall. Just the hush of night pressing in like a second skin.
Her hands were trembling. It took her a moment to realize she'd been clenching them since the moment she left the clearing. When she forced them open, half-moon indentations marked her palms.
Her wolf stirred faintly, restless beneath her skin.
We shouldn't have yelled at him, it murmured.
Elara pressed the heels of her hands to her eyes. He deserved it.
A silence followed, deep and pulsing. Her wolf didn't argue—but neither did it agree.
Something in her chest ached differently tonight. The pain of rejection had dulled to a scar's throb, yet a new warmth flickered in its place, faint and impossible to ignore. Every time she tried to breathe past it, Kael's voice drifted through her mind.
I came for you.
She had told herself that he'd only said it to make Roran yield—to claim a piece of leverage. But the words didn't sound like a threat when he'd said them. They had sounded… true.
Elara rubbed her arms, trying to chase off the chill that wasn't really from the cold. Her wolf was pacing now, tail high, ears forward.
He's strong, it whispered. Too strong. But his scent—it didn't feel wrong.
Elara's heart jumped. "Don't," she muttered aloud. "Don't start that."
You felt it too.
She did. And that was what scared her.
She rose abruptly, pacing the small space. Her boots creaked against the old floorboards as she moved from wall to wall like a caged thing. Every thought collided into the next until it was all one tangled snarl of confusion—Kael's claim, Roran's rage, the pack's whispers.
If she closed her eyes, she could still see Kael's eyes—dark as onyx, rimmed with gold light that pulsed faintly when he'd looked at her. Not human. Not wolf. Something else entirely.
The bond between them—if that's what it was—didn't feel like the one she'd shared with Kieran. That had been a spark, brief and warm before it burned out.
This was a current. Deep. Relentless.
Elara exhaled shakily and sank to the floor, pressing her back against the side of her bed. The night pressed closer, heavy with pine and frost. Her body was tired, but her mind refused to rest.
What if this isn't a mistake?
Her wolf's voice was soft but unyielding.
"Then what?" Elara whispered. "What if it's real? He's from Blackridge. We're enemies."
The bond doesn't care for borders.
Elara closed her eyes. The words shouldn't have made her heart race, but they did.
A sudden sound outside made her jolt upright—a crunch of leaves, faint but close. Instinct flared, and her wolf surged beneath her skin, alert.
She stood, moving toward the door, senses sharpening. The night was still, but she could feel it—someone out there. Watching.
"Who's there?" Her voice came out low, steady, though her pulse stuttered in her throat.
For a heartbeat, there was no answer. Then a shadow shifted near the treeline. A scent drifted through the open window—familiar, wild, threaded with power that hummed through her bones.
Kael.
Elara froze. Her wolf's reaction was immediate—a rush of energy, an almost desperate pull that made her knees weaken.
He didn't step into the clearing. His silhouette lingered at the edge of the trees, distant but unmistakable. The moonlight caught the sharp line of his shoulders, the faint gleam of his eyes.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, her voice barely more than a whisper.
"I needed to see you," Kael's voice carried easily across the space, low and deep. "They'll turn on you before dawn."
Her stomach twisted. "You don't know that."
"I do," he said simply. "Fear makes wolves stupid. Roran's pride won't save you when the pack starts to fracture."
Elara's throat tightened. "And you came to warn me?"
His silence stretched for a beat too long. "I came because I couldn't stay away."
Her breath caught.
Kael took one step forward—but stopped just shy of the light. "You're not safe here. I can protect you."
Elara's fingers tightened on the doorframe. "I don't need protection. Not from you."
Something flickered in his gaze—respect, maybe, or hunger. "You keep saying that," he murmured. "But your soul doesn't agree."
She couldn't speak. The bond pulsed between them then, invisible but real, like a thread drawn taut. Her wolf trembled with the force of it, torn between instinct and caution.
Kael's expression softened. "I'll wait," he said quietly. "But not for long."
And before she could move or answer, he was gone—vanishing into the dark as if the forest itself swallowed him whole.
Elara stood there long after his presence faded, heart pounding, breath shallow. The night air bit at her skin, but she barely felt it.
Her wolf stirred, a whisper curling through her mind like smoke. He's not lying.
Elara's voice shook as she whispered back, "That's what scares me."
She closed the door and slid down against it, wrapping her arms around her knees. Outside, the forest was silent again—but it didn't feel empty anymore.
Somewhere between the shadows and the moonlight, something ancient had chosen her.
And no matter how much she wanted to run, she could feel the pull already beginning to change her.