The silence inside the ruined chapel was deafening. The faint silver glow from the blood pact still lingered, pulsing softly between Seraphina and Fenris like a heartbeat neither of them could escape.
Seraphina's mind spun. She wanted to scream, to deny every word he'd said, but deep in her bones, she knew he wasn't lying. The threads of fate had been tightening around her for years, and now… she understood why.
"I'm not part of your prophecy," she whispered, voice trembling.
Fenris's silver eyes softened, but his jaw remained tense. "You are. I wish you weren't, but you are."
"No," she said louder this time, backing away from him. "I'm not going to be used as a pawn in some ancient curse. I won't be tied to you because some dusty scroll says so!"
He moved forward slowly, like one might approach a wounded creature ready to bite. "Seraphina… it's not just a scroll. It's written in our blood. That night you crossed the border? The bond began to awaken. The moon chose you as it chose me."
Her hands clenched into fists. "I never wanted this."
He stopped just in front of her, his towering presence both infuriating and… terrifyingly magnetic. "Neither did I."
The words hung heavy, breaking through the tension like a confession.
Fenris's gaze held hers, unflinching. "I fought it for years. Every time the curse called, I ran. Every prophecy, every vision, I burned them. But when I saw you that night—" His breath caught, as though speaking it out loud burned him. "I knew running was over."
Seraphina's heart slammed against her ribs. She wanted to hate him, to call him a liar, but there was something raw and real in his voice that left her breathless.
"You think fate means I'll just stand by your side?" she spat. "That I'll become some cursed queen and bend my knee to you?"
Fenris's lips curled into a shadow of a smile. "No. I know better than that. If fate brought us together, it's because it needs your fire… not your submission."
Her chest tightened. She didn't want to believe him. Couldn't. But part of her—a dangerous, treacherous part—wanted to know what it would mean to stand beside him, not as a prisoner or pawn… but as something else entirely.
And that terrified her more than anything.
She stepped away, shaking her head. "Even if what you say is true… it doesn't mean I trust you. It doesn't mean I'll follow you."
Fenris nodded slowly, his expression unreadable. "Good. I don't want blind loyalty. I want the real you."
Her breath hitched. The real her? She'd buried that version long ago.
Before she could respond, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed from outside the chapel. Fenris's head snapped toward the door, his wolf senses on edge.
"They've found us," he growled.
Seraphina's hand flew to the dagger strapped at her thigh. "Who?"
"Hunters," he hissed, his silver eyes flashing. "Not mine. Not yours. Something worse."
The wooden doors burst open, and a figure clad in black armor strode in, a crimson insignia glowing faintly on their chest. Behind them, more armed warriors fanned out, crossbows raised and glinting with silver-tipped bolts.
"Step away from her, Fenris," the lead hunter said, voice cold as ice.
Seraphina instinctively moved closer to Fenris's side, her blade ready. "Who are they?" she whispered.
"Blood Hunters," Fenris replied grimly. "Assassins sworn to kill anything tainted by Fae blood."
Her stomach dropped. "You mean… you."
"And you," he said, his tone sharper than steel.
Before she could ask why, the lead hunter lifted a hand. "By decree of the Holy Tribunal, we arrest the cursed Alpha and the traitor princess. Resist, and we burn this place to ash."
Seraphina's pulse thundered. She glanced at Fenris, expecting him to step forward, to surrender—or maybe fight alone. Instead, he turned his head slightly toward her, his voice low, a whisper meant only for her ears.
"Stay behind me. If you run, they'll kill you."
"I can fight," she shot back.
A ghost of a grin tugged at his lips. "I know. But tonight, you're mine to protect."
Before she could argue, the hunters fired. Bolts sliced through the air like lightning. Fenris moved faster than human sight, his wolf strength surging as he deflected one, shattered another mid-flight, and spun to knock Seraphina to the ground just as a third struck the altar.
The chapel erupted into chaos—stone splintered, dust clouded the air, and the ancient glyphs on the altar glowed in furious protest.
Fenris shifted partially, his claws lengthening, fangs flashing under the moonlight filtering through the stained glass. He tore through the first hunter with primal precision, sending their crossbow skidding across the floor.
Seraphina didn't stay down. She lunged at a second hunter, her dagger finding a weak spot between plates of armor. The warrior collapsed with a grunt of pain, but not before another bolt whizzed past her ear, narrowly missing.
"Stay close!" Fenris roared, his voice layered with a growl.
They fought back to back, a storm of steel, claws, and fury. Despite the fear, despite the insanity of it all, Seraphina felt something electric rush through her veins — a strange rhythm syncing with Fenris's movements as if they'd fought together a thousand times before.
But the hunters were relentless, more pouring into the chapel like a tide of death.
"They'll overrun us," Seraphina shouted, slashing through another attacker. "We can't hold them all!"
Fenris snarled, his glowing eyes locking on hers through the chaos. "Then we don't fight to hold!"
"What do you—"
Before she could finish, Fenris grabbed her by the waist and leapt—bounding high above the hunters with inhuman speed and strength. They crashed through one of the stained glass windows in an explosion of color and light, landing hard in the forest outside.
Seraphina groaned, scrambling to her feet. "You could've warned me!"
"No time," Fenris said, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the dense shadows of the woods. "We have to move. They'll track us."
The adrenaline still thundered in her veins as they sprinted through the moonlit forest. Branches whipped past, wolves howled in the distance, and yet Seraphina couldn't shake the feeling that something even more dangerous was chasing them than the Blood Hunters.
Finally, they stopped near a narrow ravine where the rushing river drowned out distant shouts of pursuit. Fenris released her hand, chest heaving from the run.
"Are you hurt?" he asked, scanning her quickly for wounds.
"No," she said breathlessly. "You?"
He smirked faintly. "It takes more than a dozen zealots to kill me."
Despite everything, she almost smiled. Almost.
"Why are they after me?" she demanded, stepping closer. "I'm not Fae. I'm not cursed."
Fenris's expression hardened. "Your blood reacted to mine in the pact, Seraphina. That only happens when two lines share the same ancient magic. Whether you knew it or not… you have Fae blood too."
Her world tilted. Memories of her childhood—of strange whispers in the wind, of visions no one else could see, of wounds that healed too quickly—flashed through her mind.
"No…" she whispered, trembling. "That's not possible."
"It is," Fenris said firmly. "And it means you're in more danger than you ever imagined."
Seraphina shook her head, trying to process the revelation. "So the prophecy… it's not just about you."
"No," he said softly, stepping closer. "It's about us. Together, we either unite this kingdom… or watch it burn."
The forest was quiet now, save for the river's roar and their uneven breaths.
Seraphina met his gaze, the weight of their shared fate pressing down like a storm. She wanted to run, to deny it all—but she couldn't. The truth was carved into her very blood.
And for the first time, standing in the shadows of the ravine with Fenris's silver eyes locked on hers…
She realized she might not want to run anymore.