Chapter Eleven: Bond by FlameAria's POV
The blade Kael tossed me was heavier than I expected.
I caught it mid-air, nearly dropping it before correcting my stance, feet grounding in the soft grass of the training ring. The metal glinted in the afternoon sun old, worn, but balanced. A warrior's blade.
He grinned across from me, already circling like a wolf ready to pounce.
"You're getting better," he said, shifting the wooden practice sword from one hand to the other.
I lifted my own blade, narrowing my eyes. "You're just getting slower."
His laughter echoed in the valley as we began to spar. The rebels had carved out a hidden clearing among the trees for training bare earth in the middle, ringed with old stones etched in symbols I didn't yet understand. It felt sacred. Like it remembered every fight that had taken place there.
Kael lunged, and I parried clumsily. His movements were fluid measured power, silent steps. He fought like someone who had lived battle. I moved like someone who had studied it in theory but only ever danced with the edge of fear.
He spun behind me, the flat of his blade tapping my side.
"Dead," he teased.
"Not fair," I said, out of breath. "You've had years of training."
"Exactly why we're doing this. You've got power, Aria. But power without control is chaos."
I exhaled and nodded.
Again.
An hour later, sweat glistened on my skin, my arms ached, and my pride was officially bruised. But I'd landed a hit on him twice. One on his shoulder, one across his ribs.
The third time, he caught my blade and twisted, yanking me forward only to catch me against his chest before I could fall.
I froze. My breath caught.
Kael's hand lingered on my lower back, fingers splayed, holding me close. The tip of my sword touched the ground, forgotten.
"You're a fast learner," he murmured, voice low.
"You're a good teacher," I whispered, tilting my head slightly to meet his gaze.
Our foreheads touched, sweat and sun and breath between us.
"I love you," he said.
I didn't need time to respond.
"I've always loved you."
He kissed me then slow and deep, tasting of honeyed air and salt. The kiss wasn't frantic or desperate like the others we'd shared before the danger, before the revelations. This one was grounded. Real. We weren't hiding anymore.
When we pulled apart, I touched the spot just above my collarbone the one that had already been claimed.
Kael's gaze darkened, hungry and reverent all at once.
"Let me mark you again," he said, voice rough with emotion. "Here. With full intention. No fear. No running."
I nodded.
He lowered his head, brushing his lips along the curve of my neck. My breath hitched as his teeth gently grazed my skin.
Then the bite came.
A sharp, exquisite pain, followed by a surge of warmth that flooded my chest and pulsed in my veins like sunlight. The bond roared to life stronger than before, more certain, like it had chosen us anew.
When he pulled back, his eyes glowed faintly with gold.
"So it's done," I said softly.
"No," Kael murmured, resting his forehead against mine. "It's just begun."
That evening, after the stars had risen and the campfires lit the valley in a soft golden hue, we sat together in the rebel archives a room dug into the side of a hill, filled with scrolls and old tomes. Dust danced in the candlelight.
Kael flipped through a book on werewolf bloodlines, while I traced the edge of an old map. My fingers paused over a symbol in the north a crescent moon surrounded by seven dots.
"The mark on my neck," I whispered. "It's here."
Kael leaned over to look. "That's the Crest of the Flameborn. I've only seen it in one other place in the legends of the Veiled Ones."
"The Veiled Ones?" I echoed.
Kael searched the shelves and pulled down a thin, weathered book. "Here."
He handed it to me and I opened it, scanning the delicate ink lines, each word handwritten centuries ago.
"From the blood of the Flameborn shall rise a daughter who carries the Veil. She will not shift under the same moon, nor answer to the same call. She is born of the in-between. Neither bound by the rules of wolves nor humans."
I looked up, heart pounding. "What does that mean?"
Kael frowned. "It means… you're not just a wolf, Aria. You're something else. Something more."
I kept reading:
"The Veiled One shall awaken the sleeper, sever the false blood, and restore the true bond. But beware for with her blood comes a cost. One life to wake the truth. One heart to burn."
My skin went cold.
"One life to wake the truth…"
Kael took the book gently from my hands and shut it. "It's just a prophecy. Doesn't mean "
"No," I said, voice shaking. "It's not just words. My whole life I've felt different. I didn't shift with the others. I never heard the Moon's voice like they claimed. My strength was always… strange."
Kael pulled me into his arms. "You don't have to carry this alone."
"But I might have to sacrifice someone," I whispered. "To wake Katori. That's what the line means, right?"
Kael was silent.
Later, after we returned to our apartment , I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, Kael's arm draped over my waist. His breathing was steady, peaceful. But my mind raced.
One life to wake the truth.
One heart to burn.
Who would it be?
Would I have to choose?
Would the Flame take him from me?
Or… worse… would it take me?