Suddenly, a carriage rolled toward my destination, wheels splashing mud everywhere.
I narrowed my eyes, trying to see through the small window. Something tugged at my chest—sharp, sudden—as if someone had hooked a thread behind my ribs and pulled.
Then I saw her. Just a glimpse of a girl inside, head lowered.
Before I had time to breathe, the carriage slammed into a massive stone. The impact threw her forward. Her head struck the iron bar with a sickening crack.
Pain hit the side of my temple at the exact same moment. Quick. Brutal. Like her injury had slammed straight into me.
"Alpha!" Thorne called as he rode up beside me. "Your eyes… they're going black!"
"I know," I growled. My voice didn't sound like mine. Something was twisting inside me.
"She's connected to you," my wolf murmured, steady and sure. "You feel it."
"I feel it," I said, because pretending otherwise would've been pointless.
Something tightened inside my chest. Not gentle. Not slow. More like a bond that had been waiting for one spark, and the moment I saw her, it locked into place.
"She's the one from the prophecy," my wolf said, rising with a joy I hadn't heard from him in years. "The one born to heal you. The one who ends the curse."
I jumped off my horse before it had fully stopped. Mud sucked at my boots as I strode toward the cage. Silas stepped in front of me, chest puffed like he mattered.
"My Lord, the prisoner is—"
My hand closed around his throat before he could finish. I slammed him back into the bars. The iron rattled.
"You touched her," I said quietly. My voice didn't match the storm rolling inside my chest.
"I— it was the Alpha's orders," Silas wheezed. "She's just a— a bastard—"
"Every bruise you put on her," I said, leaning close enough for him to feel the heat of my breath, "you owe me for. And I don't take payment in gold."
I let him drop and turned to the cage. I didn't wait for keys. The padlock snapped in my hands, and I reached inside.
She weighed almost nothing. Too little. Too fragile.
But the moment her skin touched mine, the noise in my head—the curse, the pressure, the relentless burning—went silent.
Real silence.
The kind I hadn't felt in three years.
Before I could think, I pulled her against me, burying my face in the side of her neck. She smelled like rain and strawberries and sweat and blood, and underneath all of it, something soft and holy.
"Don't," she whispered, her hand pressing weakly against my armor. "Don't touch me again."
I eased back, just enough to see her face. Her honey-brown eyes trembled with fear. I brushed my thumb over the cut on her cheek.
Pain flared across my own skin at the same time.
A picture flashed in my mind—a woman gently singing while she brushed her daughter's hair… a child giggling with a small doll… then the image dissolved.
"Ember," I breathed.
She froze. A tear slid down before she could stop it.
"H-how do you know that?" she whispered. "My father… he never called me by my name."
"Your father is already dead," I said, because it was true. "He didn't tell me. The bond did. I can feel your soul answering mine."
Her eyes widened, small and frightened.
"What bond?" she asked softly.
I leaned in. The Mark on her skin glowed faintly, warm and alive.
"She's the moon goddess' healer," my wolf whispered, almost reverent.
"You're not a prisoner anymore, Ember," I told her. "You're the only thing keeping me steady."
I lifted her easily and placed her on my horse. My men stared, confused, but I ignored them.
"If your heart stops," I said quietly, my hand closing over hers, "the world stops with it. So you're staying alive. Even if I have to bind you to my soul."
I climbed onto the horse behind her and pulled her close so she wouldn't fall.
My men gathered behind us.
"Where are we going?" she asked, her voice trembling as she leaned back against me.