Dawn crept into Kelthas like a whispered threat.
Selene stood at the edge of the forest, the hem of her cloak soaked in dew and thorns coiled tight around her wrists like living bracelets. Behind her, the village stirred with tension—too quiet, too alert, like prey sensing the turn of the hunt.
Callan came to her without a word.
She didn't turn. "He's coming, isn't he?"
Callan's voice was low. "Yes."
"The Hollow King."
Callan nodded, the movement barely perceptible. "The bond's power drew him. But it's not just that. It's you."
Selene turned then, her eyes steady. "Me?"
"You've awakened something the Hollow King thought dead. The bond hasn't bloomed in a century. Not fully. Not like this."
"And now?"
"Now the roses reach even the deadest soil. That terrifies him."
"Good."
Callan raised an eyebrow. "You're not afraid."
"I am." She paused. "But I won't let that fear decide for me."
They stared at one another. He reached forward, brushing his thumb over a thorn coiled at her wrist.
"It marks you now," he said. "As it did me."
Selene glanced at his arm where an identical pattern spiraled up his skin, black like ink but living, ever-shifting. The sigil of the Thornbond.
"You said it was more than magic," she murmured.
"It's choice. And promise."
"And consequence."
Callan's voice darkened. "Especially that."
Selene stepped forward. "Then we face it together."
For a heartbeat, it seemed he might pull away. Then he leaned in, resting his forehead to hers. "Together."
They returned to the village square, where a council had gathered in hushed desperation. Elric, the village elder, stood before a crude map spread across an old merchant's stall. His hands trembled, but his voice was clear.
"We cannot stay. If this Hollow King comes—"
"He'll burn us regardless," Callan said, stepping forward.
The villagers turned.
Elric stiffened. "You bring danger with you, Outlander."
Callan didn't flinch. "I brought warning. She brought the bond. The Hollow King would have come regardless."
Eyes shifted to Selene.
A mother pulled her child closer. "Is it true? You summoned this?"
"No," Selene said calmly. "I answered it."
"The thorns bloom where she walks!"
"They bloomed to protect you!"
"That's not what protection looks like," Elric snapped.
Selene raised her voice. "Do you want to run forever? Because the Hollow King doesn't stop. Not until he owns everything."
"And you think you can stop him?"
Selene looked at Callan, then back. "I think we can."
A tense silence followed.
Then, surprisingly, a voice spoke from the edge.
"The bond is old," said Mara, the herbwitch. "And older than fear. If she's chosen, then so be it."
Elric's mouth twisted. "Then what's your plan, girl? Fight a god?"
"No," Selene said. "Make him bleed."
That night, Callan led her beyond the southern ridge — to the ruin of an old fort swallowed by the wild. Its stone bones jutted like broken teeth, wrapped in vines and fog.
"This is where I first saw the bond," he said.
Selene crouched by an ancient arch, her fingers tracing the sigil carved into the stone — the same one on her wrist.
"Who were they?" she asked. "The ones before?"
Callan sat beside her. "I don't know all their names. Just pieces. Whispers in dreams. Some were lovers. Some were enemies turned allies. One pair were sisters. Another, two kings."
"And us?"
He looked at her. "What do you want us to be?"
Selene thought of the kiss. Of the way her magic had pulsed in his arms, like stars crashing. "Something more than fate."
Callan's throat bobbed. "Then that's what we'll be."
He pulled a blade from his belt — old, ornate, with thorns etched along the hilt. "This belonged to one of them."
Selene reached for it. The metal pulsed beneath her hand, warm, hungry.
"You feel it?"
She nodded. "It remembers."
Callan stared at her. "So do I."
The following morning, smoke curled on the horizon.
Not campfires.
Not hearths.
War.
The Hollow King had arrived.
The roses retracted, curling inward in panic as the villagers scrambled to prepare defenses. The thorns no longer bloomed with beauty — they bristled like spears.
Selene stood at the heart of it all, Callan at her side, the ancient blade strapped across her back.
"He's coming for me," she said.
"Yes."
"Then let's not make it easy."
They stepped beyond the warded lines of the village and into the woods — where the Hollow King's corruption had begun to seep. Trees turned brittle. Grass dulled. The light bled out of the sky.
And there, in a clearing that smelled of ash and sorrow, he waited.
The Hollow King was beautiful in the way statues are beautiful — cold, precise, empty. His eyes were black pits of starlight.
"You've come far," he said, voice echoing like it came from under the world.
Selene held her ground. "You're not welcome here."
"You wield the Thornbond."
"I honor it."
The king tilted his head. "You don't know what it truly is."
"I know it's not yours."
He stepped forward. The ground died beneath his feet.
Callan unsheathed his blade. "Come any closer—"
"You'll die," the king said mildly. "Again."
Callan stiffened.
Selene blinked. "What?"
The Hollow King's smile was cruel. "He didn't tell you, did he? This isn't the first time."
Callan growled, "Enough."
"You think this is your first life? Your first bond?" The king's voice slithered. "No. You've danced this dance before. Many times."
Selene's breath hitched.
The king looked at her. "And you always choose him. And he always dies."
She stepped back. "Liar."
"I don't lie," the Hollow King said. "Only history does."
Then he raised his hand.
The ground split.
Shadows rose — things made of bone and regret.
Callan stepped in front of her. "Run!"
"No!" she shouted. "We stand together!"
The Hollow King laughed. "Then die together."
Battle blurred.
Selene moved like a storm — the ancient blade singing in her hands. Callan fought beside her, every strike a memory. The thorns surged from the earth, impaling shadows.
But the Hollow King was untouched.
"I tire of this," he said.
And then he struck.
Darkness hit Callan square in the chest, sending him flying.
"Callan!"
Selene ran to him. He was bleeding, coughing, weak.
"Stay with me," she begged.
His eyes fluttered open. "You… have to finish it…"
"No."
"You're stronger than me now. Stronger than all of us were…"
Selene kissed his forehead. "Then give me your strength."
He gripped her hand.
The Thornbond ignited.
Light poured from her skin.
She turned, rising, hair streaming like a comet's tail. The Hollow King took a step back.
"You can't kill me," he sneered.
"No," she said. "But I can bury you."
She raised her hands.
The roses obeyed.
A thousand thorns erupted from the earth — red as blood, pure as vengeance. They wrapped around the Hollow King, dragging him down, impaling, binding.
His scream shattered clouds.
And then — silence.
She knelt beside Callan.
His breathing was faint.
"No," she whispered. "You don't get to leave me."
He smiled weakly. "We broke the cycle."
"Don't you dare—"
But he was already fading.
"Callan!"
The bond pulsed. Dim. Then—
A flicker.
A heartbeat.
His eyes opened.
Selene gasped. "You're—"
"Alive," he rasped. "This time."
She collapsed into him, sobbing.
He held her tight.
And above them, roses bloomed.
Bright.
Alive.
Unbroken.