The forest whispers with more than wind. Kael sits close to the dying fire, his body heavy with exhaustion. Elira rests nearby with her dagger across her chest, while Lyra leans against a tree, her staff glowing faintly in her sleep. Seris, as always, kneels beside Kael, her head tilted as if she could not bear to look away.
The mark on Kael's chest stings suddenly. His head snaps up. Branches crack in the distance. Eyes gleam in the dark.
From the shadows, shapes emerge. Gaunt wolves, their ribs visible beneath their skin, their eyes bright with hunger. They circle the camp, low growls rumbling through the silence.
Kael rises, sword in hand. "Wake up."
Elira springs to her feet instantly. Lyra follows, staff blazing with blue light. Seris clings to Kael's arm, her whisper trembling with delight. "Even beasts come to tear you away. I will not let them."
The first wolf leaps. Kael slashes, steel tearing through flesh. Elira drives her dagger into another, her golden eyes burning. Lyra chants, bolts of light striking the pack.
The wolves retreat and advance again, desperate and unafraid of death. Together the three women move, but never in harmony. Elira fights closest to Kael, guarding his side. Lyra blasts from behind, her eyes fixed more on Seris than on the wolves. Seris does not fight at all. She only clings to Kael, whispering promises of devotion even as blood splatters around them.
The final beast falls with its throat torn open. Silence returns, broken only by ragged breaths. The air reeks of blood.
Elira wipes her blade clean and glares at Seris. "You did nothing. You only weighed him down."
Seris tilts her head, smiling faintly. "I protect him in ways you cannot see. My presence is enough."
Lyra lowers her staff, her voice sharp. "Enough from both of you. We survived because we fought together, not because of obsession."
Kael sinks onto a rock, his hands trembling around the sword hilt. He says nothing. The mark throbs, alive with the storm of their emotions.
Later that night, the camp falls into uneasy silence. Elira sleeps lightly, dagger within reach. Lyra rests with her back to the fire, eyes closed but senses sharp.
Seris remains awake. She moves closer to Kael, her fingers brushing his hair from his face. Her voice is a whisper only for him. "They will always fight me. But I was chained for you, waiting. My life is yours. I will remind you, even if I must carve it into your heart."
Her lips brush his forehead. The curse flares hot, binding tighter. Kael does not move, too weary to resist. His eyes close, though his sleep is far from peaceful.
The night holds its silence, but the chains grow heavier.
*****
Morning breaks with a pale sun hidden behind clouds. The fire has gone out, leaving only smoke curling upward. Kael stirs awake with the taste of ash in his mouth and a weight on his chest that is not just the curse. He remembers the touch of Seris's lips in the night, the way the mark flared as though it had swallowed her devotion whole.
Elira watches him closely while sharpening her dagger, her eyes narrowed. "You look different. What happened while the rest of us slept?"
Kael avoids her gaze. "Nothing worth mentioning. The night was quiet after the wolves."
Seris sits beside him, her expression innocent. "He speaks the truth. I watched over him while you slept."
Elira's grip tightens on her blade. "Watched, or touched?"
Lyra lifts her staff, using it as a walking stick as she rises. Her voice is calm but edged with warning. "Do not twist the silence. If something is wrong, the curse will reveal it soon enough."
Kael feels sweat along his palms. He knows the truth already, but admitting it would ignite the camp in flames of jealousy. He pushes to his feet. "We need to move. Thornhall is still far, but the forest is no longer safe."
They walk beneath the trees, shadows stretching long across the moss. Hours pass in tense silence. Then a whistle cuts through the air.
Figures emerge from the undergrowth. Cloaked men with sigils on their armor, the mark of Thornhall burned into the metal. Scouts, armed with short blades and crossbows. Their leader raises a hand.
"Kael of the curse. You are summoned. Come quietly, and your companions may yet live."
Elira steps forward with her dagger drawn. "Over my dead body."
Lyra positions herself at Kael's side, her staff glowing faintly. "They tracked us. The curse leaves a trail they can follow."
Seris clings to Kael's arm, her eyes fixed on the scouts with hungry delight. "Let them try to take you. I will never release you. They will die screaming before they touch you."
Kael feels the mark sear against his chest, stronger than ever, as if it thrills at the clash of loyalty and hatred. He grips his sword, the weight of choice pressing heavier with each heartbeat.
The scouts raise their crossbows. The forest holds its breath.
Kael whispers to himself, voice rough with dread. "No more running."
The crossbows rise as one. Kael does not wait. His blade flashes, cutting the air as he rushes the nearest scout. Steel meets steel, the sound sharp in the quiet forest.
Elira is already moving, her dagger finding the gap between armor plates as she tears through the first man's throat. Her golden eyes blaze with fury.
Lyra chants quickly, her staff glowing with a surge of blue light. Bolts of energy rip through the undergrowth, striking a scout and sending him crashing into the dirt.
Seris does not fight with weapons. Instead she clings to Kael's back, whispering in his ear as he cuts down another. "Do not let them take you. I will not lose you. Strike harder. Kill for me."
The words ignite the curse. Kael feels his arms grow lighter, his strikes faster, as if her obsession pours strength into his veins. His sword cleaves through a third man with frightening ease.
But the scouts are trained. They do not break easily. The leader signals, and more men emerge from the trees, forming a circle around them. Crossbows lock into place.
"Fall back," Lyra commands, her staff spinning. A shield of light forms, blocking the first volley of bolts. The arrows strike and splinter, but the barrier flickers under the strain.
Kael slashes another scout down and pushes forward. "We will be surrounded if we stay. We have to break through."
Elira carves a path with swift, ruthless strikes. "Then follow me."
The group pushes through the tightening circle. Lyra widens her shield just enough to cover their retreat. Seris laughs softly, her voice trembling with something close to joy. "See how even the hunters fear you. The curse will never let them claim you."
Kael cuts through one final scout, and then they are moving, sprinting deeper into the forest. Branches whip past their faces, roots catch at their boots, but they do not stop. Behind them, the voices of the scouts echo, chasing like hounds.
At last the forest grows quieter. The group collapses against the trunk of a fallen tree, gasping for breath. Blood stains Kael's sword, and the mark on his chest burns like fire.
Lyra steadies her staff, her face pale. "This was not a patrol. They were trackers. Thornhall knows where we are."
Elira slams her dagger into the wood. "Then let them come. I will cut down every last one."
Seris leans against Kael, her arms tightening around him. "They can hunt forever, but they will never take you from me."
Kael closes his eyes, sweat dripping from his brow. He can still hear the clash of steel, the whispers of Seris, the endless burn of the curse. There is no safe ground left. Thornhall is closing in, and his chains only grow heavier.