For a long, trembling heartbeat,
no one moved.
The moonlight flickering through the Keeper's Hall cast pale shadows across Lysandra's face, and the silver glow in her eyes reflected every ounce of fury she felt.
Evander stood behind her, breathing hard, wrists still red from the restraints.
The Shadow Heir leaned against a pillar, arms folded, watching everything with a predator's ease.
And the Moon Guardians—
—they stared at her like she was a weapon they didn't know how to disarm.
Lysandra's wolf snarled quietly inside, claws scraping against the edges of her mind.
Hurt him and we end you.
Try her and we destroy you.
Come near him again— just try.
Evander placed a hesitant hand on her shoulder.
She trembled.
Not from fear.
From relief.
His voice was low, unsteady.
"Lysandra… slow down. You're shaking."
She didn't turn around.
If she did, she knew she might break.
Instead, she lifted her chin at the Guardians.
"You will not touch him again."
The eldest Guardian's jaw tightened.
"He is a danger to you."
"He is the only thing keeping me sane!" Lysandra shouted.
Her voice echoed through the temple like thunder.
One Guardian whispered, terrified:
"She's bonding with him…"
The elder Guardian flinched.
"That isn't possible. She cannot bond with a mortal—"
"Then maybe I'm not the creature you think I am," Lysandra snapped.
Moonlight surged around her, crackling in wild silver waves.
The Heir tilted his head, eyes narrowing with interest.
"This is getting good," he murmured like he was watching a performance.
Lysandra ignored him.
She stepped forward, placing her body between Evander and the Guardians once more.
Evander's fingers brushed the back of her arm.
"Lysandra," he whispered, "I'm okay. I promise. You don't have to fight them—"
"They tied you," she said through clenched teeth.
"They locked you away."
Her voice cracked.
"You were terrified. Because of me."
He shook his head.
"I wasn't scared of you."
Her breath caught.
He said it like it was the easiest truth in the world.
Like nothing about her glowing eyes, trembling claws, or half-shifted aura frightened him.
She swallowed hard, suddenly unable to speak.
The Heir's gaze sharpened.
The Guardians stiffened.
And Evander stepped closer—too close—his voice softer now.
"I was scared for you."
Her wolf whimpered at the warmth in his tone.
Lysandra swallowed a sob.
But before she could respond—
The elder Guardian slammed the base of his staff against the ground.
"ENOUGH!"
Moonfire exploded upward, forming a glowing barrier between the Guardians and Lysandra.
They stepped into formation—three on each side.
"You, girl," the elder Guardian said sharply,
"are not stable. You are not pure. You carry shadow in your blood."
Lysandra flinched.
Not because he was wrong—
but because his words made something ugly twist inside her.
Evander grabbed her arm protectively.
But the Guardian wasn't finished.
"The Priestess has ordered your containment until we determine the extent of your corruption."
"Corruption?!" Lysandra gasped.
"You broke a sacred seal with raw emotion," the Guardian snapped.
"You nearly shattered the corridor wards. You hold the Shadow Heir's mark—"
Lysandra's breath hitched.
"I didn't want his mark!"
"And yet…"
the Guardian's gaze slid to her collarbone,
"there it is."
The Heir smirked.
"I could remind you how she got it, but I don't think your fragile minds could handle the truth."
"Silence, creature of shadow!" the Guardian roared.
The Heir's face darkened instantly.
Shadows curled around his boots.
"Oh?" he said softly.
"Say it again."
Lysandra's wolf rose violently.
STOP HIM!
He will kill them!
She stepped between them.
"Stop! Both of you!"
Her voice vibrated with wolf resonance.
The Guardians hesitated.
Even the Heir paused.
Lysandra sucked in a shaky breath.
"I am not going anywhere without him," she said, pointing at Evander.
"And you will not touch him again."
The elder Guardian's face twisted with anger.
"You are speaking like someone who has forgotten her place."
Lysandra's eyes flashed silver.
"Then remind me."
A shocked murmur rippled through the Guardians.
Evander squeezed her hand.
"Lysandra… don't provoke them—"
"They provoked me first," she whispered.
His heart pounded against her arm.
He looked terrified—
but not of her.
Of losing her.
The elder Guardian lifted his staff.
"You are unfit to stand in the Moon Temple.
You are unstable.
You are tainted."
Lysandra's breath shattered.
"Tainted?"
Her wolf growled furiously.
The Heir stepped closer, whispering:
"Tell them what you are."
Lysandra shook her head.
Her wolf roared louder.
The Heir's mouth curved.
"Tell them, little moon."
"I— don't," she breathed, trembling,
"I don't know what I am."
The Guardian snarled.
"You are half-shadow. A danger to us all. And you dare stand beside a mortal—"
"He is NOT a danger!" Lysandra shouted.
"He is the only one who—"
Suddenly—
Evander stumbled.
Lysandra caught him instantly.
"What's wrong?! Evander—"
He clutched her arm, breath heaving.
"I… I don't know," he whispered.
"My chest— it feels— strange—"
Lysandra's heart dropped.
The Heir stepped forward, eyes widening.
"Move," he snapped.
"No," Lysandra growled.
The Heir grabbed Evander's wrist—
not gently, but not cruelly either.
Dark energy pulsed under his fingertips.
He froze.
Then whispered:
"…impossible."
Lysandra's heartbeat slammed.
"What?" she demanded.
"What's impossible?!"
The Heir looked up—
and for the first time—
he wasn't smirking.
He wasn't amused.
He wasn't calm.
He was shocked.
Deeply shocked.
"His pulse," the Heir whispered.
"It carries moon resonance."
Lysandra blinked.
"What does that mean?"
The Heir stepped back from Evander—
as if he had touched something forbidden.
"He's not just a mortal."
The Guardians gasped.
Evander stared, baffled.
"Wait—what do you mean not just—"
The Heir's voice dropped to a whisper.
"He felt your wolf."
Lysandra froze.
Evander blinked slowly.
"I… did what?"
The Heir gestured to Lysandra's trembling form.
"When her wolf surged, your heartbeat matched hers.
Her aura tried to wrap around you.
And you didn't break."
Lysandra's chest tightened painfully.
"That's why… you didn't collapse," she whispered.
"In the forest."
Evander swallowed.
"You mean when I touched you?"
Her wolf whimpered.
He survived us.
The Guardians murmured in horror.
"Impossible—"
"No human can withstand—"
"He could be dangerous—"
Evander took a shaky step back.
"I'm not dangerous," he whispered.
The elder Guardian scowled.
"You may not know what you are. But you are tied to her now."
Evander's eyes widened.
"T-tied?"
Lysandra grabbed his hands.
"No. No, don't be scared. You didn't do anything wrong."
The Guardian raised his staff.
"The mortal must be separated from the Moonblood—immediately."
The Heir's shadows surged.
Lysandra's wolf snarled.
Evander's fingers tightened around hers—
But the Guardian slammed his staff down.
Moonfire shot toward Evander—
straight at his chest.
Lysandra moved before thought.
Before breath.
Before fear.
She threw herself in front of him—
"NO!"
—and moonfire hit her directly.
The impact blasted her backward into Evander's arms.
Her body arched in agony.
Her wolf roared.
Her mark burned.
Evander screamed her name—
"LYSANDRA!!"
And as she collapsed against him, shaking—
the Heir whispered behind them:
"…the bond has begun."