ELARA'S POV
I don't sleep.
How can I? Every time I close my eyes, I see silver light. Feel power humming under my skin. Remember the shock on Kael's face when that spirit-wolf appeared.
I'm a Guardian.
The words don't feel real yet.
I pace my chambers until the sky starts lightening. Dawn. Training time.
I'm actually eager for it—eager to learn, to understand this power, to become strong enough that no one can ever make me feel weak again.
A knock sounds at my door.
It's open, I call.
Kael enters, and my breath catches. He's changed into training clothes—dark leather that shows off every line of muscle. His hair is tied back. His eyes are clear and focused.
He looks every inch the predator he is.
Ready? he asks.
Yes.
His smile is approving. Follow me.
He leads me through the fortress, down corridors I haven't seen yet, through a courtyard where wolves are already training, and finally to a private area surrounded by high walls.
It's completely isolated. Private.
Why here? I ask.
Because what I'm about to tell you can't be overheard. He turns to face me, and his expression is deadly serious. Before we start your Guardian training, you need to understand exactly what you're getting into. What I'm getting into. What we're risking together.
I know the risks. White Crest wants me dead
That's not the only risk. He cuts me off. Sit.
I sit on a stone bench. He paces in front of me like he's gathering his thoughts.
Finally, he speaks.
I told you about the curse. How Blackridge Alphas can't find their mates. How we go feral without the mate bond. His hands clench. What I didn't tell you is exactly what that looks like.
You said your father went mad
Mad doesn't cover it. Pain flashes across his face. My father was brilliant. Strong. A good leader for the first fifty years of his reign. Then the curse started taking hold.
He stops pacing.
It begins with paranoia. Seeing threats that aren't there. Suspecting betrayal from loyal wolves. He started executing pack members for imagined crimes.
My stomach turns.
Then came the rage. Uncontrollable fits where he'd shift and tear apart anyone nearby. We had to lock him in reinforced cells during the worst episodes.
Kael's voice goes hollow.
By the end, he wasn't a person anymore. Just a beast wearing my father's face. He broke out during one of his fits and killed seventeen pack members in a single night—including two children.
Kael
I found him standing over their bodies. Blood everywhere. He didn't even recognize me. His eyes meet mine, and they're full of ancient pain. I had to do it. He charged me, and I... I put him down.
He shows me his hands, the same hands that held mine so gently last night.
These hands killed my father. Tore his throat out while he was in full madness. He died not knowing who I was. Not knowing anything except rage and bloodlust.
Silence falls.
Why are you telling me this? I ask quietly.
Because I need you to understand what happens if the curse reasserts itself. He kneels in front of me. Right now, the mate bond is keeping the madness at bay. My wolf is calm with you. The paranoia and rage that was creeping in has backed off. But...
But what?
But if the bond breaks, if something happens to you—I will become exactly what my father was. His jaw clenches. Maybe worse. Because I'm older than he was. I've been fighting the curse longer. The madness has had more time to build.
Understanding crashes over me. So keeping me alive doesn't just save me. It saves you.
It saves everyone I'd slaughter once I went feral. His honesty is brutal. That's the real reason half the pack looked terrified last night. They're not just scared of White Crest. They're scared of what I'll become if you die.
I should feel used. Like I'm just a tool to keep him sane.
But through the mate bond, I feel his genuine emotion. The hope. The fear. The desperate need mixed with real caring.
How long do we have? I ask. If the bond broke, how fast would you—
Weeks. Maybe a month. He touches my face. But that's not going to happen. Because we're going to do this right.
Do what right?
He takes a deep breath. Complete a partial soul-bond. Enough to permanently stabilize the curse without killing you.
My heart races. You said full bonding would kill me.
Full bonding would. Your human body can't contain that much power. He stands, pulling me with him. But there are stages to Guardian-Alpha bonds. Partial fusions that grant some benefits without the full transformation.
What kind of benefits?
Enhanced healing for both of us. Ability to communicate through the bond even when apart. Shared strength in battle. His eyes glow brighter. And most importantly—permanent curse stabilization. Once a partial bond is set, it can't break even if we're separated.
It sounds too good to be true. What's the catch?
The catch is that partial bonding still hurts. A lot. He doesn't sugarcoat it. It's not as dangerous as full fusion, but your body will fight the process. The power transfer will feel like burning from the inside out. Some Guardians didn't survive even partial bonds.
How many?
About one in ten died during the ritual.
My mouth goes dry. Ten percent mortality rate.
Yes. He grips my shoulders. I won't force you into this. If you want to refuse, we'll find another way. We can try to maintain the bond through proximity alone, hope it's enough—
It won't be enough. I cut him off. You said yourself the curse could reassert. I'm not gambling our lives on hope.
Then you're agreeing to the partial bond?
I think about the power I felt last night. The spirit-wolf. The silver light.
I think about what Kael's father became. What Kael will become without the bond.
And I think about White Crest coming for us with armies.
When? I ask.
Tonight. His expression is fierce. The sooner we solidify the bond, the sooner we can focus on training you. On preparing for war.
What do I need to do?
For now? Train. He steps back, and his demeanor shifts into pure instructor mode. I need to see what your body can handle. Guardian powers are one thing. Combat skills are another. Let's start with basics.
For the next three hours, he runs me through drills.
I'm pathetic.
I've never trained to fight. Never even thrown a real punch. My survival strategy has always been hiding, not confronting.
Kael is patient but ruthless. He shows me stances, makes me practice them until my legs shake. Teaches me to punch without breaking my own hand. Explains weak points on a wolf's body.
Again, he orders after I fail to land a hit on him for the twentieth time.
I'm exhausted. Sweating. My muscles scream.
But I try again.
This time, when he lunges, instinct takes over. Silver light flares from my hand—just a flash—and he jerks back.
There! He grins. Your Guardian power responds to threat. We can use that.
I can't control it yet.
You will. He circles me. Your ancestors could shape lunar light into weapons. Shields. Even chains to bind enemies. With practice, you'll learn.
How much practice?
Months. Maybe years to master it fully. His expression turns grim. We have days. So we focus on the basics—call it, shape it, release it on command.
We train until I can summon the silver light without panicking. Can't do much with it yet—just make my hands glow and maybe create a weak shield.
But it's progress.
When the sun reaches its peak, Kael calls a break.
I collapse onto the bench, gulping water.
He sits beside me. You did well.
I'm terrible.
You're untrained, he corrects. There's a difference.
For a moment, we just sit in comfortable silence.
Then I ask the question that's been nagging me.
Why did you really choose me? Before you knew I was a Guardian—when you thought I was just human, why accept a treaty bride?
He's quiet for a long moment.
Because I was running out of time, he finally says. I could feel the curse getting stronger. The paranoia creeping in. I had maybe ten years before I became like my father. He looks at his hands. I thought if I couldn't have a true mate, at least a political marriage might give me something to focus on. Something to fight for besides just... not going mad.
That's bleak.
My life has been bleak for over a century. His smile is bitter. Until you walked into my great hall smelling impossible and looking at me like I was a monster you were determined to survive.
You are a monster.
Yes. He doesn't deny it. But you're not afraid of monsters, are you?
I think about that. I'm afraid of being powerless. Monsters I can deal with.
His laugh is surprised and genuine. You're going to be terrifying once you're fully trained.
Good.
He stands, offering his hand. Come. There's someone I need you to meet before tonight's ritual.
Who?
The only wolf old enough to remember how Guardian-Alpha bonding ceremonies actually work.
We walk through the fortress to a tower I haven't visited. The stairs are old, worn smooth by centuries of use.
At the top is a single door.
Kael knocks. Elder Thoren? It's Kael. I need your help.
The door opens to reveal a wolf so ancient his fur is pure white. His eyes are clouded with age, but when they focus on me, they sharpen with recognition.
A Guardian, he breathes. Moon's mercy. I thought I'd die without seeing another.
You knew them? I ask.
Knew them? He laughs, bitter and sad. Child, I was bonded to one. My mate, Lyris. The most magnificent soul ever to walk these territories.
My breath catches. Kael's grandfather's mate?
The same. Thoren's expression clouds with grief. We were bonded for forty years. Forty perfect years. Then White Crest came, and... He shakes his head. She died protecting me. Used every drop of her power to keep me alive while they cut her down.
Silence falls.
I'm sorry, I whisper.
Don't be sorry. Be strong. His clouded eyes bore into mine. Be what she was—fierce and unbreakable. Make them regret they ever feared Guardians enough to hunt you.
Kael steps forward. We need your help with a partial bonding ritual. Tonight.
Thoren's eyebrows rise. Partial? Why not full fusion?
Her body isn't ready. Human-born Guardians need time to adapt—
Nonsense. Thoren waves dismissively. Lyris was human-born. We completed full fusion within a week of meeting. Her body adapted because the bond was strong enough to support the transformation.
And how many Guardians died trying that method? Kael challenges.
Some, Thoren admits. But the ones who survived became legends. He looks at me. How strong is your bond?
I glance at Kael. Through our connection, I feel his wolf—calm, protective, absolutely devoted.
Strong, I say.
And your power? How much have you manifested?
Spirit-wolf projection. Lunar light. Some instinctive shielding.
Thoren nods slowly. Then you could survive full bonding. If you're brave enough to risk it.
No. Kael's voice is hard. I'm not risking her life on could.
It's not your choice, I point out.
His eyes flash gold. Like hell it's not
It's MY body. MY power. MY risk. I stand straighter. If full bonding gives us better odds against White Crest, then that's what we should do.
You could die!
I could die when White Crest's armies arrive! I shoot back. At least this way I'd die trying to become strong enough to fight back!
We glare at each other.
Thoren chuckles. Just like Lyris and Kael's grandfather. Fought like wolves but loved like the moon loves the tide, inevitable and eternal.
His words defuse some of the tension.
Kael runs a hand through his hair. I can't lose you. Not when I just found you.
Then help me survive this. I take his hand. Trust that the bond is strong enough. Trust that I'm strong enough.
Through our connection, I feel his fear. His desperation. His absolute certainty that losing me would destroy him.
But I also feel his respect for my choice.
Partial bond tonight, he finally says. We do this the safe way. Once you're stable, once you've trained more, if you still want to attempt full fusion, we'll discuss it.
It's a compromise I can live with.
Deal, I say.
Thoren nods approval. Wise. Partial bonding will at least stabilize the curse and give you some enhanced abilities. I'll prepare the ritual space for tonight.
As we leave his tower, Kael doesn't let go of my hand.
You're going to be the death of me, he mutters.
Or your salvation, I counter.
His smile is small but real. Definitely salvation.
We walk back to the training ground, but before we resume, Kael pulls me close.
No matter what happens tonight—during the ritual or after—I need you to know something.
What?
His ice-blue eyes burn into mine. I've lived for one hundred and fifty-six years. I've seen empires rise and fall. I've fought in wars and killed more enemies than I can count. I've been alone for so long I forgot what hope felt like.
He touches my face with impossible gentleness.
And then you appeared. Powerless, terrified, and still brave enough to look a monster in the eye and refuse to break. His thumb traces my cheek. You're my mate. My salvation. The reason my wolf finally woke up. And I will move heaven and earth to keep you safe.
My throat tightens. Even if I don't want to be safe? If I want to fight?
Then I'll stand beside you and make sure you survive long enough to win. His smile turns sharp. Because you're right—we're not prey anymore. We're the hunters.
He kisses me, and the mate bond flares between us—gold and silver light promising power, promising danger, promising everything.
When we break apart, I'm breathing hard.
Tonight, I say. We seal this bond. Then tomorrow, we start real training.
Tomorrow we prepare for war, Kael agrees.
And as the sun sets over Blackridge fortress, casting everything in blood-red light, I make a silent promise.
To my murdered family.
To myself.
To every Guardian who was hunted and slaughtered.
We will rise again.
And White Crest Pack will burn for what they've done.
The war is coming.
And I plan to win.