Chapter 10: The Weight of an Oath
Aiden hit the ground before he even realized he was falling.
Mud splashed up his arms, cold and heavy, and the world spun so violently that his vision snapped into shards. The trees swayed in crooked angles. The fog pulsed like a living thing. Every heartbeat slammed like thunder inside his skull.
Myra's voice cut through the spinning haze.
"Aiden! Aiden—stay with me!"
Her hands were already under his shoulders, dragging him onto his back so his face didn't sink into the mud. Nellie stumbled beside her, grabbing his cloak with trembling fingers.
He tried to breathe.
Lightning crackled inside his lungs.
Not air—static.
He choked, coughing against the sharp ache blooming in his chest.
"What's happening to him?" Nellie whispered, voice small and breaking.
"I don't know," Myra said, trying to steady him. "He was fine a moment ago—this isn't normal."
Aiden wanted to speak, but all that escaped were ragged sounds. His fingers twitched uselessly at his sides. The pup pressed against his legs, whining anxiously, sparks flickering through its fur.
The System chimed in his skull, distant and distorted:
[Stormline Surge: ESCALATING]
[Alpha Imprint Overload]
[Stabilization Threshold Not Yet Met]
Aiden gritted his teeth, eyes squeezing shut.
He didn't understand what the words meant.
But he understood the feeling.
Like something enormous—something primal—was trying to claw its way deeper into his soul.
Myra cupped his cheek with her palm, her breath shaking. "Look at me. Stay with us. You're not going anywhere."
His vision blurred, sharpening only when her face hovered inches from his. Her eyes were wide, frightened, but fierce enough to hold the world together for him.
He forced out a whisper. "I—think—the wolf—left something… in me."
Nellie's breath hitched. "It's hurting him. It's hurting him!"
Garrik cursed under his breath and knelt beside them, spear still in hand. "Get him on his side. If he stops breathing, we need his airway open."
Myra moved fast, rolling Aiden into a better position. He gasped as the motion sent another jagged stab through his ribs.
The pup yipped anxiously, circling him, its tiny paws leaving faint sparks in the mud.
Garrik hesitated, eyeing the small creature.
"That thing's connected to this," he growled. "Its presence could be making him worse."
Myra rounded on him. "Don't you dare."
"He's collapsing from a bond he wasn't ready for," Garrik snapped. "If the pup is feeding that instability—"
"He's not!" Myra shouted.
Aiden barely heard them.
He was too busy fighting to stay conscious.
The world warped around him, distant shapes bending unnaturally as the surge pulsed again.
His senses sharpened—painfully so.
He heard every shift of the caravan's boots in the mud.
He smelled the metallic tang of lightning in the air.
He felt the storm threads under his skin vibrating like live wires.
Too much. Too fast.
"Myra…" he whispered. "Don't… let them… take him."
Her hand found his again instantly. "No one is taking anyone. You're safe. He's safe. We'll figure this out."
But another surge slammed through him, and his back arched off the ground. Blue-white light flashed across his veins, visible beneath his skin.
Nellie screamed. Myra held him down. Garrik grabbed his shoulder to keep him from thrashing.
Aiden's voice tore from his throat without permission—an involuntary cry that sounded nothing like him.
And the pup—
The pup threw itself across his chest, pressing its tiny body against his heart.
Lightning sparked between them both.
The surge hit again.
This time, the pup howled.
Not a loud sound—not even threatening—but a piercing, mournful cry. Sparks burst across its fur like a dying ember fighting to ignite.
Aiden felt the connection like a lifeline snapping taut inside him.
The System flared:
[Bond Link: Initiated]
[Cub Override Attempt Detected]
[Protocol: Ancestor Shelter]
[Stability Rising…]
The pain softened.
The lightning inside him dimmed.
He drew in a shaky breath—then another. His vision steadied enough to make out Nellie's wet curls and Myra's trembling hands braced on his chest.
Myra leaned over him, forehead almost touching his. "Stay here. Right here. Don't drift."
The pup let out another cry—quieter, weaker.
And then Aiden felt the surge break.
Like a storm cloud collapsing after lightning empties itself.
He sagged into the mud. His ragged breaths turned shallow but steady.
Nellie fell to her knees, crying outright. "I-I thought he was going to—"
Myra pulled her close with one arm, still holding Aiden with the other. "He's still here. That's what matters."
Garrik exhaled hard, tension draining from his shoulders. But he didn't put away his spear.
"Can he stand?" Garrik asked.
"No," Myra snapped immediately. "He's barely breathing."
"Then we carry him."
Nellie wiped her face. "I-I can get his bag—he needs water—he needs—"
"He needs rest," Myra said gently. "That's all."
Aiden closed his eyes.
He wasn't unconscious—just drained in a way that made sleep seem like a distant dream. But he felt hands lift him, Myra and Garrik working together. Felt the pup curl itself against his chest, refusing to be parted from him even for a moment.
Voices blurred in and out around him.
Hunters muttering about omens.
Caravanners whispering about curses.
Frightened breaths.
The creak of carts.
Every sound cut through him with painful clarity, even as exhaustion dragged at his bones.
They carried him until the trees thinned and the fog shifted into a gentler gray. Garrik signaled a halt under a low ridge of stone, a rare elevated patch above the marsh.
Aiden was laid beside a mossy outcrop, the ground firmer and less soaked. Myra knelt beside him again and checked the side of his neck for his pulse.
She let out a shaking breath of relief. "It's steady."
Nellie sat near his head, sniffing. "I don't like this. He's supposed to be strong. He's supposed to be okay…"
Myra stroked the girl's hair. "Even strong people break, Nellie. It doesn't mean he's gone."
Aiden forced his eyes open long enough to look at them both.
"…hey," he rasped.
Myra nearly jumped. "You're awake!"
"Barely," he murmured. "Feels… like a thunderstorm in my ribs."
The pup crawled onto his chest again, nuzzling under his chin. A soft spark danced between them—warm this time, not painful.
Aiden lifted a trembling hand and stroked the little wolf. "You saved me."
It whined, pressing harder into him.
Myra softened. "He tried. And so did you."
Garrik approached again, face grim. "We need answers before this goes any further."
Myra glared. "Not now. He needs to rest."
"He needs to tell us what's happening before the marsh decides to answer that storm inside him," Garrik growled. "This isn't a child's pet. It's a lightning beast. If the bond is unstable, it might draw predators from miles—"
A branch snapped behind them.
Myra's hand flew to her short blade. Garrik raised his spear.
Nellie grabbed Aiden's cloak in terror.
More branches cracked—slow, deliberate.
Something heavy moved through the fog.
Aiden couldn't even sit up. His body twitched uselessly.
Garrik inhaled sharply. "Whatever it is… it's big."
The pup growled—a tiny, crackling warning.
Myra pushed in front of Aiden, blade up.
Shapes formed in the fog.
Wide. Tall. Moving on four legs.
More than one.
The ground shook beneath them as shadows emerged, hulking and silent.
Nellie whimpered. "A-Aiden…?"
Aiden's pulse spiked.
Not from pain.
From recognition.
The System flickered:
[Incoming Beasts: Unknown]
[Behavior: Coordinated]
[Intent: Unclear]
[Threat Rating: HIGH]
Aiden's fingers curled in the mud.
The beasts stepped through the fog.
Six of them.
Large.
Black-furred.
Eyes glowing faint amber.
Not lightning beasts.
Not marsh predators.
Something else.
Something territorial.
Myra's blade trembled. "Oh gods… they weren't following us before. They're here for—"
"For me," Aiden whispered.
The largest beast lowered its head, fangs bared—
And the pup on Aiden's chest lifted its muzzle and snarled, sparks snapping across the air.
The pack froze.
The big one leaned forward…
And growled one word in a low, resonant rumble that made every hair on Aiden's arms lift:
"Storm… marked."