Elena did not sleep. The pulse that had leapt between her and Calen still beat through her chest like an echo that refused to fade. Every breath carried his scent, sharp with cedar and rain. When dawn touched the window, she pushed the blanket aside and found him leaning against the doorway, arms crossed, watching her with eyes that were both wary and soft.
"Yara says you should eat before we start," he said. His voice was steady, but she heard the fatigue beneath it.
She sat up slowly. "Start what?"
"The training. She believes the bond left a mark on you—something that needs to be understood before it tears through the pack again."
Elena's fingers brushed the spot beneath her collarbone where the pain had first burned the night before. The skin looked normal, yet a faint shimmer appeared when light struck it. "You mean this?"
He nodded once. "That's the Anchor's mark."
The words sank into her bones. Anchor. The word that had followed her through whispers and half-spoken prophecies. She had thought it meant servitude. Now it sounded like danger.
Yara waited outside the den, a basket of herbs at her feet. "The mark binds you to him," she said when Elena stepped out. "You steady the Alpha's curse. Without you, he falls. Without control, you both burn."
Calen's jaw tightened, but he said nothing.
Yara motioned toward the clearing. "We begin here. Feel the ground. Let it breathe through you. The bond draws from the same source that feeds the forest. When you lose calm, it feeds on chaos instead."
Elena closed her eyes. The world sharpened—every rustle, every heartbeat, every shift of wind. Then a surge rose through her body, wild and alive. For a moment she felt weightless, the air bending around her hands.
Calen stepped closer. "Breathe, Elena."
"I am," she whispered, but her voice shook.
The shimmer beneath her skin brightened until thin threads of silver ran up her arms. The grass around her quivered, roots pushing through soil as if reaching for her. She gasped and dropped to her knees.
"Focus," Yara urged. "Anchor yourself."
Elena tried. The more she thought of calm, the more she felt Calen—his nearness, his heartbeat, the worry he hid. The energy twisted, responding to him instead of her.
A flash of power burst outward. Vines shot from the earth, glowing faintly. One coiled around Calen's wrist before she could stop it.
"Let me go!" she cried, struggling to pull it back. The vine obeyed but left a faint cut on his skin.
He touched the mark, blood shining against the silver light. "It listens to your fear," he said quietly. "Not your will."
Yara moved between them. "That's enough for today."
Elena backed away, shaking. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," Calen said. His eyes met hers, fierce and gentle all at once. "You didn't choose this."
The words almost broke her. "But I might destroy you."
"Or save me," he replied.
The air between them stilled, thick with everything unsaid. Then a voice drifted from the trees—Marcus, low and bitter. "So this is the Alpha's great savior? A girl who can't control her own hands?"
Elena turned. Marcus stood with two warriors, his smirk cutting deeper than his words.
"Careful," Calen warned.
Marcus spread his arms. "I'm only speaking truth. The pack saw what happened last night. They whisper about the curse spreading. You should hear them, Calen. They wonder if the Anchor isn't a leash meant for us all."
Yara's eyes narrowed. "Enough."
But Marcus wasn't finished. "If she's your bond, prove she can protect you. Otherwise she's a weakness none of us can afford."
The vines at Elena's feet trembled again, sensing her fury. Calen reached for her wrist. "Don't let him bait you."
She met Marcus's gaze. "You're afraid."
He laughed. "Of you? You can barely stand."
The light surged before she could stop it. A pulse of power rolled across the clearing, knocking dust into the air. Marcus stumbled back, eyes wide. When the haze cleared, the vines had withered to ash.
Elena swayed. Calen caught her before she fell.
"See?" Marcus spat. "She's dangerous."
Calen's voice turned to iron. "Leave."
Marcus hesitated, then signaled his men. They disappeared into the forest, muttering.
Elena rested her head against Calen's chest. "I didn't mean to—"
"I know," he said again. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, and for an instant the world narrowed to the space between them. His heartbeat steadied hers.
"I can feel you," she murmured. "Every breath. It's…too much."
He nodded. "The mark links our energy. What you feel, I feel."
"Then how do I stop it from hurting you?"
"By learning to control it," Yara said behind them. "Tomorrow we begin again."
Calen helped Elena back toward the den. The air had cooled; shadows stretched long across the ground.
Inside, the fire burned low. She sat near it, staring into the embers. "Marcus is right. They'll never trust me."
"Trust isn't given," Calen said. "It's earned."
"You sound like Yara."
"She learned it the hard way." He crouched beside her. "You'll learn it too."
She looked at him, eyes catching the faint light. "And if I fail?"
"Then we fall together," he said simply.
Something in his tone made her heart twist. The curse still pulsed under his skin, dark veins trailing toward his collarbone. Without thinking, she reached out and touched the edge of the mark. It flared, sending a jolt through both of them.
Calen flinched, gripping her hand. "Elena—"
She couldn't pull away. Energy rushed between them, bright and searing. The fire roared higher, heat brushing their faces. Then, as suddenly as it came, the light vanished.
Calen exhaled. "What was that?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But it felt like the bond answered."
He studied her, worry flickering beneath the calm mask. "Yara will want to see this."
"She'll call it progress."
"Isn't it?"
Elena hesitated. "It didn't feel like control. It felt like something else…something waking."
He took her hand again, more carefully this time. "Then we learn what it wants."
Outside, the forest murmured. Somewhere distant, a wolf howled—a sound that carried warning rather than grief.
Calen stood. "Rest. I'll keep watch."
"You don't have to."
"I can't sleep," he admitted. "When you dream, the bond stirs. It's safer if I stay."
She didn't argue. Exhaustion pulled her under quickly.
When she dreamed, she saw silver vines crawling across the moon, wrapping around two figures bound in light. The vines pulsed once, then shattered.
She woke to the crack of thunder. Calen was by the doorway, his eyes reflecting lightning. "The storm came fast," he said.
But Elena felt something else—the pulse of power outside the walls, calling her name through the rain. She rose and met his gaze.
"It's not the storm," she whispered.
The air grew colder. Somewhere in the darkness, a single vine of silver light burst from the earth and snaked toward the den.
Calen drew his blade. "Stay behind me."
Elena shook her head. "No. It's calling for me."
The vine stopped inches from her feet, glowing brighter, the same shimmer that lived beneath her skin. It etched a pattern into the mud—the same shape as the mark over her heart.
Yara's voice echoed from the path, carried by wind. "Elena! Step away!"
But the vine pulsed once more, brighter than before, and the mark on her chest burned.
Calen reached for her just as the light exploded between them.