Elowen's POV
The fog grew thicker the deeper I went.
At first, I thought it was just the remnants of night clinging to the trees. But this mist… it moved with intention. It coiled around my arms, kissed the side of my neck, whispered across my cheeks like it knew I didn't belong—yet welcomed me anyway.
The wind was quieter here. The forest no longer whispered about curses or rejection. It simply watched.
I didn't know how long I'd been walking. My legs were numb, my feet raw from the rocky terrain. But the burn in my chest, the ache in my palm, the pull inside me—they guided my steps like invisible threads.
And always, always, I felt him.
I didn't know his name yet.
But I knew the way his presence stirred something deep in me, something fragile and fierce. I knew his shadow had touched mine the night of the Blood Ceremony. I knew his voice wasn't one I'd imagined.
And now, it was calling me here.
To Hollowveil.
The forbidden land.
The cursed forest.
The place no Ashclaw wolf dared enter.
But I wasn't one of them anymore, was I?
I was no longer anything to anyone.
Except… maybe to him.
---
The trees here were older, their trunks twisted like knotted hands reaching toward the sky. The air tasted of iron and rain, and every step echoed like it was being watched by something just out of sight.
My mark pulsed faster.
He was close.
I slowed my steps, senses straining.
Then—snap.
A branch broke behind me.
I turned, but the fog was too thick. Nothing but white and shadow.
"Hello?" I called out, trying to sound brave, though my voice shook.
Silence.
Then movement—just beyond the trees.
I backed away slowly, my heart hammering.
"Who's there?" I whispered.
No answer.
But the mark on my palm burned now—not with pain, but with urgency. With recognition.
Then a figure emerged from the mist.
He walked slowly, as though the forest parted just for him. Tall, broad-shouldered, and wrapped in dark layers of leather and furs, he moved like a predator—graceful and deadly.
But it wasn't his build that made me stop breathing.
It was his eyes.
Piercing.
Dark.
Ancient.
And locked on me like he'd been waiting a lifetime.
I opened my mouth, but no words came.
His gaze dropped to my palm. The mark shimmered faintly beneath the fabric of my sleeve.
"You shouldn't be here," he said, voice low and rough—like gravel laced with thunder.
I blinked. "Neither should you."
His lips twitched—half amusement, half disbelief.
"You crossed the boundary," he murmured. "Most who do don't return."
"Maybe I'm not like most," I said before I could stop myself.
He studied me a moment longer, then stepped closer.
I should've stepped back. But I didn't.
Something about him made the air thinner. He felt like moonlight in shadow, like the edge of something ancient—dangerous—and familiar.
"Who are you?" I asked, voice barely a breath.
"Kael," he said. "Of Hollowveil."
Kael.
The name curled through my thoughts like smoke.
It fit.
I swallowed. "You… were at the altar, weren't you?"
He didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze softened—just slightly—and he looked at me as if seeing something behind my eyes.
"You bled the earth awake," he said. "I felt it."
"You felt… me?" My voice faltered.
Kael nodded once. "In every bone. Every breath. And I knew you'd come."
The honesty in his voice made my chest ache.
No one had spoken to me like that. Not even Lucien.
Especially not Lucien.
"You're not afraid of me?" I asked.
He tilted his head slightly. "Should I be?"
"They say I'm cursed."
He stepped closer, and the mist seemed to draw tighter around us.
"They're right," he said quietly. "But so am I."
My heart thudded harder.
He raised a hand—slowly, giving me the chance to pull away. But I didn't.
His fingers brushed a lock of hair from my face.
It was such a simple thing.
But it unraveled me.
My breath caught.
His touch was warm, rough with calluses, but gentle. Deliberate.
"Your blood doesn't lie," he murmured. "It called me."
"Then why didn't you come to me?"
His expression flickered. "Because if I did… I wouldn't have let you go."
My throat tightened.
We were standing too close now. I could feel the heat radiating off his skin, smell the earth and storm clinging to his clothes. He looked at me like I was something sacred and doomed all at once.
"I don't even know who I am anymore," I whispered.
Kael leaned closer, his breath brushing my cheek.
"Then let me show you," he said. "Not who they say you are. But who you were always meant to be."
The space between us burned.
I could feel the bond—silent, pulsing, alive.
"Why me?" I asked, my voice cracking. "Why now?"
"Because some bonds aren't forged by time," he said. "They're remembered by the blood. And yours… was never meant to be claimed by another."
His hand hovered just above my skin—waiting.
"May I?" he asked softly.
I nodded.
He placed his palm over mine.
And the mark ignited.
Light flared between our joined hands—golden and red, like fire caught in moonlight. I gasped as warmth flooded my veins, spreading from the point of contact outward, deeper, deeper—not just through my body, but into the parts of me I thought had died.
Kael's eyes closed briefly, like he was listening to something no one else could hear.
When he opened them again, he looked changed.
Or maybe it was me.
"We were never strangers," he said.
Tears stung my eyes. Not from pain.
But from being seen.
Truly seen.
By someone who didn't look away.
By someone who didn't cast me aside.
---
The wind shifted.
Kael stepped back slightly, eyes scanning the trees.
"They'll come for you," he said. "Ashclaw won't let you disappear quietly."
"I don't care," I said.
"You should."
I looked up at him. "Then help me disappear loudly."
For the first time, he smiled—a slow, almost reluctant thing. But it lit his entire face.
He nodded once. "Come."
And just like that, he turned and walked into the mist.
I followed.
Not because I was lost.
But because, for the first time, I wasn't.
We walked in silence.
The kind of silence that didn't beg to be filled—because it meant something.
Kael moved ahead of me, every step precise, every breath quiet. He belonged to this forest in a way I never could. His shoulders were tense, like he was listening not only with his ears, but with his blood.
I followed, drawn to him like the moon to the tide. I didn't know where he was leading me, but for once, I didn't question it.
As we crossed deeper into Hollowveil, the fog thinned just enough to reveal ancient stone paths and twisted trees heavy with dark vines. The forest felt alive—older than anything I had ever known. It watched me not with hostility, but with caution. Curiosity.
Like it was trying to decide if I was worthy.
"Does it always look like this?" I asked softly.
Kael glanced over his shoulder, his eyes unreadable. "It changes. According to who walks it."
I frowned. "Then what does it mean that it hasn't swallowed me whole yet?"
He stopped.
Turned.
Faced me.
"The forest doesn't swallow what belongs to it," he said.
His words sent a tremor through me.
Belong?
To this place?
To him?
My mouth parted, unsure of what to say. But then something flickered in Kael's gaze—a gentleness, brief but real. Like he saw the storm in me and didn't fear drowning in it.
We came to a clearing where a crumbled ruin stood—columns covered in moss and silver runes. A half-broken fountain sat in the center, still trickling water that glowed faintly under the moonlight.
Kael gestured for me to sit.
I sank onto the edge of the fountain, exhausted, but alert. My bones ached, my soul frayed. Yet even in my ruin, I felt his presence settle me.
Kael knelt in front of me.
I stiffened.
He reached for my hands—not quickly, not possessively. He moved like someone afraid to touch something fragile. And I let him.
His fingers brushed mine. He looked down at my mark, still glowing faintly through my skin.
"It's awake," he said, voice low.
I nodded.
"What does it mean?" I whispered.
Kael didn't answer immediately. His thumb traced the edge of my palm—slow, deliberate. My breath hitched.
"It means you were never meant for the bond you were promised," he said. "Because something older chose you long ago."
I blinked, tears stinging my eyes. "Then why do I feel like I lost everything?"
Kael lifted his gaze to mine.
"Because before something new can take root," he said softly, "everything false has to burn."
Our faces were inches apart.
His words wrapped around my heart like a balm.
"You don't even know me," I murmured.
He tilted his head. "Don't I?"
"I don't know me."
"Then we'll remember you together."
For a moment, the world went still. The fog stopped swirling. The wind held its breath.
And I realized—I wasn't afraid anymore.
Kael's hand moved to my cheek. His thumb brushed just beneath my eye. My skin burned where he touched me, but it wasn't pain. It was awakening.
I leaned in—just slightly.
He did too.
We didn't kiss.
But gods, it felt closer than that.
A breath shared. A tether pulled taut.
When we finally pulled apart, nothing had changed.
And yet—everything had.