The forest smells of rain and regret.
I wake in the gray hush after the storm, every muscle trembling, skin still carrying the ghost of his touch. For a heartbeat I think I'm back in the courtyard, waiting for him to speak the words but the only sound is the slow drip of water from the trees.
Pain blooms behind my ribs. It isn't normal pain; it's the bond screaming, stretching, trying to knit itself together after being torn open again. My pulse races to match a rhythm that isn't mine. Kael's. I can feel it faintly, steady and cold, somewhere far across the territory.
I press my palms to the wet ground and force myself upright. The forest spins. The rejection ceremony, the storm, the kiss, everything crashes over me at once. My wolf whines inside my chest, confused and wounded.
"You said it was over," I whisper to no one.
The bond answers with another sharp pull, like claws dragging down my spine. I double over, choking on air that tastes of cedar and thunder. The sensation eases only when I breathe his name, and that makes me hate it more.
I stumble toward a cluster of boulders and crouch beside a shallow pool, cupping water to my mouth. My reflection looks wild: eyes too bright, cheeks flushed from fever. The mark on my neck where he'd bitten during the storm glows faintly silver beneath the bruises. It shouldn't still be there. Rejection is supposed to erase everything.
But the Owlblood are old blood; our bonds run deep. Maybe the Goddess is punishing us both.
I wrap my torn cloak tighter and start walking north. The map in my head says there's an abandoned watchtower near the ridge, a place with walls and maybe food. Each step feels heavier than the last. My skin prickles as though unseen eyes track me through the trees.
Halfway there, the world tilts. My knees hit the ground before I realize I've fallen. A wave of heat rolls through me, not from fever this time but from the bond flaring again. Kael must be awake, maybe angry, maybe remembering the same storm I can't forget.
Stop, I think fiercely. Let me go.
The bond only tightens, answering my defiance with a surge of aching warmth that leaves me dizzy.
I remember the rain, the storm, his hands everywhere, and the way his lips burned down my neck, biting, sucking, marking me. My body had been trembling, every nerve alive with him, soft, hard, insistent, claiming. His fingers had traced the curve of my waist, sliding over my hips, pressing me into him. I'd gasped, arching, lost, and the wet earth beneath us had felt like fire.
He'd growled my name low, dragging me into him, moving with a rhythm that was slow, deliberate, unbearably consuming. Every touch, every press, every bite made my pulse race, made my breath catch. I remembered how it had felt to shiver under him, to cry out and moan, to feel his heat all around me, marking me, claiming me in ways I'd never forget.
Then the memory shifted, sharp and wild, his mouth on mine, teeth grazing, hands digging into my skin, his scent heavy and intoxicating, the bond thrumming like a live wire through me. And just like that, the memory surged, raw and insistent, leaving me trembling, heart racing, sweat mixing with rain, utterly undone.
I gasped, snapping out of it, hands clutching my chest. My pulse thundered in my ears. No. No, no, no. Not here. Not now. I stumbled back, nearly falling again, the forest spinning around me.
A sound cuts through the trees, a twig snapping, soft and deliberate.
My head jerks up. The air shifts; the scents change. Not Kael. Not Owlblood. Something rawer.
Rogues.
The storm must have scattered border patrols. Rogues smell weakness like blood in the water.
I push to my feet, forcing my shaking limbs to obey. The closest scent comes from the east: musk, old blood, iron. My wolf surges forward, muscles tensing. I can't shift fully; the bond burns too much energy, but partial form will have to do.
Claws slide from my fingertips. My hearing sharpens until I can count three heartbeats moving through the underbrush.
They circle, whispering low to each other.
"Little stray," one calls. "Smells like Alpha blood."
Wrong thing to say.
I bare my teeth. "Come find out."
The first rushes me. Instinct takes over. I sidestep, slash, feel my claws rake across fur and flesh. The second leaps from behind; I roll, catching his shoulder. Pain streaks down my arm, hot and sharp, but the adrenaline drowns it.
Somewhere beneath the fight, I feel the bond flare again, Kael's energy flooding through like wildfire, his wolf reacting to mine even across miles. The sensation jolts me, doubling my strength.
I strike once more, hard enough to send the last rogue crashing into a tree. He doesn't rise. The forest falls silent except for the ragged sound of my own breathing.
Blood slicks my palm, mingling with rainwater. I stare at it, heart pounding, half expecting Kael to materialize out of the shadows. But he doesn't. Only the wind moves, carrying the echo of his heartbeat inside my chest.
The pull eases, fading to a low hum. I stagger to the nearest rock and sit, shaking. Killing used to make me feel powerful. Tonight it just makes me feel tethered, to the pack I've left, to the man who won't let go.
I tilt my face to the sky. The moon peers through thinning clouds, pale and watchful.
"What do you want from me?" I ask her. "Wasn't rejection enough?"
No answer. Only the rustle of leaves, the faraway cry of a night bird.
The rogues' bodies lie still, shadows in the mud. I should move before more come, but exhaustion weighs heavier than fear. I drag myself beneath the shelter of a fallen tree and curl against the roots.
The bond hums softly, a heartbeat beneath my own, stubborn and alive. I imagine Kael somewhere in his hall, feeling the same burn, maybe pretending it doesn't hurt.
He wanted freedom.
I wanted him.
Now neither of us has what we asked for.
My eyelids grow heavy. The scent of rain fades into cedar again, faint and cruelly comforting. Before sleep claims me, I whisper to the bond, to him, to the Goddess….
"Let me go."
But the pulse that answers through the thread between us says otherwise.