They left the Veilwood at dawn.
The forest parted for Vaelor like a curtain drawn by unseen hands. Ancient trunks leaned aside in silent respect, runes dimming to soft pulses as if bidding farewell. No patrols stirred in the undergrowth. No wards challenged their passage. The treacherous path that had nearly ended them now stretched open and calm, bathed in pale morning light filtering through the canopy in golden shafts.
Lirael walked them to the very edge, Elyndra close beside him, their fingers brushing with every step, lingering longer than necessary, as if neither wanted to be the first to let go. Kael trailed behind, rubbing his temples and muttering about never trusting fae wine again, his usual humor muted by the lingering ache of overindulgence and the weight of what they carried out of the vault. Seraphine stayed near Tobias, her silence heavier than words, gaze flicking to him repeatedly as if reassuring herself he remained untouched by the forest's lingering magic, her hand occasionally brushing his arm in quiet possession.
At the border where living wood gave way to open sky, Vaelor waited.
In daylight he appeared less imposing, almost mortal, silver hair catching the sun like fresh snow on ancient stone. His eyes, carrying the weight of centuries, settled on Tobias last, soft with unspoken regret and something that might have been hope.
The others hung back, giving space for what needed to be said.
Vaelor stepped closer, voice low enough to remain private amid the open air. "I am sorry for the pain you have carried all these years. For the questions I cannot fully answer yet. For the role I played in shaping what you have become. The trials were meant to save lives, not create weapons. I see now how far we strayed."
Tobias felt his throat tighten, words failing him in the face of such quiet admission.
Vaelor placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, the touch paternal and steady, carrying the warmth of someone who had watched generations rise and fall. "You will always have a place here, Tobias Hale. The door remains open to you, no matter the path you choose. Bring whomever you wish." His gaze shifted briefly to Seraphine, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Even those who pretend indifference to the world around them."
Seraphine's jaw clenched visibly. She stared at the ground, saying nothing, but her fingers curled tight at her sides, nails digging into palms.
Vaelor's expression warmed further, eyes crinkling at the corners. "You are not alone in this journey. Remember that always. The forest remembers kindness. It remembers blood. It will remember you."
He released Tobias and stepped away, the forest seeming to exhale behind him in a soft rustle of leaves.
Lirael embraced Elyndra one final time, holding her close, arms wrapped securely around her as if memorizing the feel of her against him. She buried her face in his shoulder, breathing him in, fingers clutching the back of his cloak. When they parted, neither spoke immediately, but the longing hung thick between them, plain for anyone to see, a quiet ache that spoke of years lost and perhaps years yet to come.
Kael broke the heavy quiet with his usual timing. "Tree-boy, come visit the compound soon. We could use more people capable of making our girl blush like that. It's excellent for morale. And honestly, watching her speechless is a rare treat."
Elyndra shot him a glare sharp enough to draw blood. Lirael's laugh came soft and genuine, eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced at her. "I just might accept that invitation. Someone has to keep her from forgetting how to smile."
Elyndra's cheeks colored deeper, but she didn't look away.
Handshakes followed among the group. Quiet nods. Promises exchanged in glances more than words. Kael pulled Lirael into a rough, back-slapping hug that surprised everyone. Even Seraphine offered a brief nod, acknowledgment from one predator to another.
Then the transport ramp lowered with a mechanical hiss, and they boarded one by one, the weight of the Veilwood lifting as engines began to warm.
Seraphine claimed the seat beside Tobias immediately, her thigh pressing firmly against his as if staking territory. She stared straight ahead as the ramp closed, fingers drumming a single restless beat on her knee, the only sign of the storm brewing beneath her calm.
He glanced sideways, voice low. "You all right?"
She waited several heartbeats before responding, voice pitched low over the growing hum of engines. "I would leave everything behind and stay there with you. In a heartbeat. No questions. No looking back. The forest, the quiet, you. All of it."
Her hand slipped under the armrest, finding his and squeezing hard enough to leave marks that healed almost instantly.
He squeezed back, steady and sure, thumb tracing the cool skin of her knuckles.
The transport lifted smoothly, the Veilwood shrinking below into an endless sea of emerald until it vanished entirely beneath clouds.
Whatever waited ahead, whatever battles loomed on the horizon, they would face them together.
The compound gates closed behind them with heavy finality that echoed through the courtyard like a judge's gavel.
Kael exhaled long and deep, rolling his shoulders as if shedding the mission's weight layer by layer. "Home at last. I'm claiming the showers first, then sleeping until someone drags me out with promises of food."
Elyndra offered a faint, weary smile before heading straight toward the archives without another word, her steps quick and purposeful. Garron grunted a brief welcome and disappeared toward the armory, his heavy steps fading down the corridor like distant thunder. Kael clapped Tobias on the back once, firm and brotherly, lingering a second longer than usual. "Good to have you back in one piece, brother." Then he followed the others inside, already calling out for coffee strong enough to wake the dead.
Tobias walked alone.
His quarters felt farther away than ever. Hallways stretched too long, shadows clinging to corners with unusual persistence, as if the building itself sensed the changes carried back from the vault. When he finally reached his door he pushed it open, stepped inside, and left it ajar out of long habit, expecting the familiar cool presence to follow.
The room remained empty.
No sudden flash of silver hair catching dim light. No crimson eyes gleaming from the darkness. No cool presence slipping in to claim the night and everything in it.
Just silence, thick and unfamiliar, pressing against his skin.
A strange ache bloomed beneath his ribs, sharp and unexpected. He almost laughed at the absurdity of it. Seraphine, ever unpredictable, always appearing when least expected and vanishing when most wanted.
He shut the door firmly, stripped off his jacket with slow movements, and collapsed onto the bed fully clothed. Boots still laced. Belt still buckled. Exhaustion crashed over him like a wave, pulling him under within moments, the world fading to black.
Sleep came deep and swift, dreamless at first, a void that swallowed everything.
Then the field appeared once more. Endless golden grass swaying beneath a silver sky that stretched forever. The figure waited at the horizon, silhouette achingly familiar yet still unclear, edges blurring like heat haze.
It raised a hand.
Come.
Tobias stepped forward willingly, grass brushing his legs, the air warm and charged with promise.
The figure spoke again, voice soft and certain, wrapping around him like sunlight. "Trust me."
He woke with the words still ringing in his chest, warm and lingering, a echo that refused to fade.
The room stayed dark. The door stayed closed.
But the energy inside him stirred gently, quiet and attentive, no longer restless.
Listening.
And for the first time, it felt less like a threat lurking in the shadows.
More like something waiting patiently to be named, to be understood.
The next two days dragged in strained, artificial routine that fooled no one.
Training sessions resumed with mechanical precision, bodies moving through forms while minds wandered elsewhere. Patrol schedules filled every hour, keeping hands busy and thoughts occupied. Reports vanished into classified channels, buried deep where questions couldn't reach. Everyone moved with careful steps, conversations clipped, laughter forced, as though the compound itself might fracture under the weight of unspoken truths pulled from the vault's depths.
Elyndra buried herself completely in research, emerging only for hurried meals taken standing, eyes ringed dark with fatigue, fingers stained from old ink and endless scrolling through decrypted files. Whatever connections she chased from the stolen data kept her silent and distant, her usual calm edged with something frantic.
Tobias trained harder than necessary, pushing his body until muscles screamed and the energy inside him hummed in approval. He ate without tasting food. Slept alone, the bed too large and cold, sheets untouched on one side.
Seraphine remained absent, her quarters dark, her presence missed in every corner of the compound.
On the second morning he tracked Garron to the armory, finding him methodically cleaning weapons that already gleamed spotless, movements precise and repetitive.
"Where is she?" Tobias asked without preamble, voice rough from disuse.
Garron did not look up from his work, sliding a cloth along a blade's edge. "Commander sent her out the moment we landed. Solo recon mission. High priority. Haven-7 perimeter."
Tobias's stomach twisted sharply. "When does she return?"
"Tomorrow morning. For the full briefing." Garron finally met his eyes, expression unreadable beneath the usual stoicism. "She'll be here. She always is when it matters most."
He paused, setting the blade down with deliberate care, then added gruffly, "She's tougher than anyone gives her credit for. Tougher than most of us combined. Whatever storm she's walking into out there, she'll walk out the other side."
Tobias nodded, but the ache refused to ease, settling deeper.
That night the common hall filled for a rare gathering, operatives from multiple squads mingling in forced celebration after weeks of tension. Drinks flowed freely from tapped kegs. Laughter rang loud, edged with the brittle quality of people trying to forget recent close calls and the secrets that now divided them. Stories grew taller with each retelling, scars compared like badges.
Tobias sat with Kael and a handful of others from their unit, nursing a beer he barely tasted, mind drifting to empty rooms and absent presences. A group of female shifters from another squad drifted over, smiling wide, teasing about mission stories and old scars, voices bright with the kind of energy that came from too much drink and too little sleep. One grew particularly bold, sliding into the seat beside him and resting a casual hand on his arm, fingers lingering as she leaned in to laugh at something Kael said.
He smiled politely, shifting away with subtle grace, but the conversation rolled on undeterred. Laughter rose higher. Hands brushed again, accidental on purpose. Nothing serious, just the usual release after tension, the kind of harmless flirting that happened when people needed to feel alive.
Then the temperature in the room plummeted, sharp enough to raise gooseflesh on exposed skin.
Seraphine stood framed in the doorway, fresh from the field, gear still dusted with travel dirt and dried blood, hair wild and unbound, eyes locked on the hand resting on Tobias's forearm with predatory focus.
The hall quieted in waves, conversation dying as heads turned.
She crossed the space without hurry, every step deliberate, silence spreading like frost across glass. The shifter's hand withdrew quickly, but not quickly enough to escape notice.
Seraphine stopped behind Tobias's chair, gaze sweeping the table with lethal calm that made throats tighten.
"Touch him again," she said, voice low and even, carrying to every corner, "and I remove the hand."
The shifter laughed nervously, trying to diffuse the sudden chill. "We were just talking. Relax."
Seraphine leaned down slowly, fingers curling over Tobias's shoulder, nails pressing through fabric hard enough to sting and mark. "He's taken."
Another operative across the table smirked, emboldened by drink and stupidity. "Didn't see a claim mark anywhere visible. Maybe he's open to options."
Seraphine's smile came slow and terrifying, fangs glinting sharp in the overhead lights. "Would you like to see one now? I'm happy to demonstrate."
The room held its collective breath, tension thick enough to choke on.
She moved.
One instant still, the next the smirking operative flew backward off his chair, table flipping in a crash of glasses and spilled drinks that splashed across the floor. Seraphine followed like a storm given deadly form, fist connecting with jaw in a sharp crack that silenced everything, blood spraying in a fine arc.
Chaos erupted in heartbeats.
She fought with precise, vicious grace, breaking bones and egos alike in a blur of motion too fast to track. No one landed a solid hit. No one truly tried after the first few seconds, operatives scrambling back to form a wide circle, some shouting, others frozen in stunned awe.
Tobias stood frozen at first, watching her dismantle the group that had crowded him, every strike fueled by something deeper than simple anger, something raw and consuming that twisted her beautiful features into fury.
When it ended, she stood amid groaning bodies and overturned furniture, chest heaving, blood bright on her knuckles and smeared across her lips where she had licked a split.
The hall stared in stunned silence, no one daring to move.
She turned to Tobias, eyes blazing pure crimson, wild and unyielding.
"I told you," she whispered, loud enough for every ear to catch, "you're mine."
She grabbed his wrist in an iron grip and pulled him through the parted crowd, bodies shifting aside instinctively.
No one followed.
No one even breathed too loudly until the door to his quarters slammed shut behind them with force that rattled the frame and cracked plaster.
She released him abruptly, pacing the small space like a caged predator ready to strike, every movement coiled tight with barely contained violence.
"They touched you," she snarled, voice trembling with barely contained fury that cracked at the edges. "Laughed with you. Flirted like they had any right to breathe the same air. And you sat there."
"I was pulling away," he said quietly, stepping closer despite the storm. "It meant nothing. You know that."
"Nothing?" Her laugh cracked, raw and wounded, centuries of isolation and possession twisting into something painfully human. "You think I didn't see every hand, every smile aimed at you? After everything I've given? After I bled for you, fought for you, waited in shadows for you while you chased truths that might destroy us both?"
Jealousy poured from her in waves, consuming and absolute, stripping away every layer of control she usually wore like armor.
Tobias reached for her, voice steady. "Seraphine."
She whirled, slamming him against the wall with blinding speed that drove the air from his lungs. The impact dented reinforced steel, pain blooming sharp across his back, but he barely registered it past the storm raging in her eyes, crimson and wet with something that looked dangerously like hurt.
"You need reminding," she hissed, face inches from his, fangs fully extended and gleaming.
Her mouth crashed into his, all teeth and desperate claim that tasted of blood and fury. Fangs nicked his lip deliberately, copper blooming hot between them. He groaned into the kiss, hands rising to her waist, but she controlled every second, fierce and unrelenting, pouring centuries of jealousy into every bite, every press of her body against his.
She ripped his shirt open with one violent tug, fabric tearing like paper, nails raking bloody lines down his chest that healed almost as fast as she carved them, the fleeting pain sharpening everything to crystal clarity. Her fangs sank into his neck, deep and punishing, pain exploding white-hot and exquisite, perfect in its intensity.
He gasped, fingers tangling hard in her hair as she drank greedily, pulling strength and heat from him in long, demanding swallows that made his knees weaken and vision blur at the edges.
She shoved him toward the bed, stripping away mission gear with frantic, tearing efficiency that left trails of destroyed fabric across the floor. Clothes fell in shredded pieces. Skin met skin, fever-hot against cool marble.
"You're mine," she growled against his throat, fangs withdrawing only to strike again lower, marking collarbone, shoulder, every place foreign hands had dared brush, branding him with bites that drew blood and moans in equal measure.
He flipped them with a surge of strength born from need, pinning her beneath him on the mattress, but she arched up to meet him, matching force for force, legs wrapping tight around his waist. They moved together in a tempest of need and raw emotion, her nails carving fresh paths down his back that burned and healed and burned again, his hands bruising her hips as he drove into her with everything pent up, every thrust a response to her claim.
She bit his lip hard enough to draw fresh blood, licking it away with a moan that vibrated through them both, body clenching tight around him.
"Say it," she demanded, voice ragged, body trembling on the edge.
"I'm yours," he rasped, thrusting deeper, harder, feeling her shatter around him. "Always yours. Only yours."
The words shattered the last of her restraint. Jealousy melted into pure desperation, movements turning frantic, possessive, claiming every inch as if to erase any memory of others forever.
They shattered together, her screaming muffled against his neck as fangs sank deep one final time, his release pouring out in a wave that left him shaking and spent, vision whiting out in fire and ice.
Afterward, they lay tangled amid torn sheets and scattered clothes, breathing hard, bodies slick with sweat and blood, hearts slowing in tandem.
She traced lazy patterns over his healing marks, eyes softer now, the storm spent but not forgotten.
"Feel better?" he murmured, voice rough from her name repeated like a prayer.
She pressed a gentle kiss to his throat, right over the freshest bite, lips lingering. "For now."
Outside, the compound settled into quiet night, oblivious to the tempest that had raged behind closed doors.
But tomorrow brought Haven-7, a battle the Accord warned would test loyalties and break lines, where old alliances might fracture and new ones forge in fire.
And deep inside Tobias, the energy stirred once more, quiet and attentive, no longer restless but focused.
A whisper formed, soft as breath against his mind, clear and insistent.
Waiting.