The storm rolled in just before midnight.
Lightning cracked across the skies of Nightfang, bathing the Academy in flashes of silver light. Rain lashed the windows of Lyra's chamber, matching the riot inside her chest. She sat curled on the edge of the bed, a blanket wrapped around her bruised body, her thoughts louder than the thunder outside.
She couldn't sleep. Not after what happened in the Trial. Not after the look in Kael's eyes. Not after the fire that had ignited between them in the archives — a fire she didn't know how to extinguish.
The bond mark on her neck still burned.
Not like pain.
Like hunger.
Every time she breathed, she could feel him. His energy. His fury. His restraint.
But worse — she could feel herself. Her traitorous body, responding to the very man who had chained her, marked her, dominated her world.
This bond will ruin me, she thought bitterly.
Her hands trembled as she pressed them over her chest, trying to calm the storm within. But the moment she closed her eyes, she saw him. Kael. Shirtless, sweat-slick, golden eyes glowing with something feral and forbidden.
A knock jolted her.
Three sharp raps. She didn't need to ask who it was.
"Go away," she said weakly, voice cracking.
But the door opened anyway.
Kael entered without invitation, the air around him crackling with storm-charged energy. He was dressed in loose dark pants and nothing else. His chest was bare, and the fresh rain beaded across his skin.
He shut the door behind him and locked it.
Her heart stuttered.
"You shouldn't be here," she said, pulling the blanket tighter.
"I know."
His voice was hoarse — rougher than usual. Controlled. Barely.
She looked up at him, and in that moment, something snapped. The leash between them pulled taut. Not just the bond — something deeper. Something primal and unfinished.
"Why did you come?" she whispered, almost afraid of the answer.
Kael didn't speak. He crossed the room in two strides and stopped in front of her, his eyes wild, pupils dilated.
"You kissed me once," he said, voice low and rasping. "You don't get to pretend it meant nothing."
"You forced a bond on me," she snapped back. "That kiss meant I was breaking. I was lost."
"No," he growled, eyes narrowing. "You knew exactly what you were doing. And you weren't the only one breaking."
His fingers gripped the edge of the blanket wrapped around her. She held it tighter.
"I'm warning you," she whispered.
"So am I," he breathed, his voice like thunder.
Then — silence.
Only the sound of rain and heartbeats.
Kael's hand reached out and cupped the side of her neck, just beneath the bond mark. She gasped — the bond pulsed, hot and needy, like fire surging through her veins. His thumb brushed her pulse.
"You feel it," he said.
"I hate it," she spat.
"No," he murmured. "You hate that you don't hate me."
She shoved him away. "You ruined my life!"
"I saved your life!"
"You chained me!"
"I marked you to keep you breathing!"
They were both yelling now, standing, chest to chest, eyes blazing.
"You think I wanted this?" Kael growled. "You think I planned to bond myself to a girl with a broken wolf, from the pack that slaughtered half my bloodline?"
Her breath caught.
Kael looked away then, pain flickering across his face. "I didn't plan it," he said, quieter. "But the bond chose you. And now I can't breathe without feeling you suffer."
His voice cracked — and that broke something in her.
She stepped closer before she could stop herself. "I didn't ask for this," she said, but softer now.
"I know," he breathed.
"But I can't deny it either."
He looked at her then, as if seeing her truly. His hand cupped her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut, a soft exhale escaping her lips.
And then she kissed him.
This time, it wasn't chaos. It wasn't fury.
It was heat.
Slow, aching, breathless heat.
Their mouths collided, and the bond flared so violently it stole the air from the room. She moaned into his mouth as his hands gripped her waist, pulling her flush against him. Every nerve in her body ignited.
Kael deepened the kiss, claiming her with the desperation of a man trying to carve her into his soul. She tugged at his hair, dragging him closer still, until they were tangled in each other, falling back onto the bed.
Clothes were forgotten — his shirt already gone, her nightdress sliding off her shoulder.
He kissed down her throat, pausing over the mark he gave her. His tongue brushed it lightly, and she cried out — not in pain, but pleasure so sharp it frightened her.
The bond responded to every touch, amplifying it tenfold.
His hands roamed her waist, her back, learning the shape of her like he had craved it for years. She arched beneath him, fingers tracing the muscle along his spine.
But just when the last barrier was about to fall—
He stopped.
Breathless. Trembling.
"Kael," she gasped, reaching for him.
He closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to hers.
"I can't," he said, voice strained. "If I keep going, I won't stop. And I need… control."
She stared up at him, her body shivering from the withdrawal.
"And if I don't stop," he whispered, "I'll ruin you before the bond ever does."
They lay there for a long time, skin against skin, breath tangled. Not lovers. Not enemies. Something in between.
When he rose to leave, he pressed a kiss to her forehead — not lustful, but reverent. A vow unspoken.
"I'll never force that part of the bond," he said quietly. "But I won't pretend I don't want it."
She didn't answer. She couldn't.
He left into the night, the storm outside finally beginning to calm.
The door clicked softly shut behind him.
Lyra stared at the empty space where Kael had stood moments ago, her breath still shallow, her skin still burning. The storm outside had finally begun to ease, but inside her — the bond raged hotter than ever. Every heartbeat throbbed with confusion. Longing. Shame. Desire.
She wrapped herself in the blanket again, though not from cold.
From fear.
I kissed him.
She pressed her trembling fingers to her lips.
I wanted to.
That truth burned worse than any physical wound. Kael had chained her. Marked her without consent. Torn her from her world. He was supposed to be the villain. The one she resisted. The one she hated.
So why had her soul felt like it was reaching for him?
And worse — why had she seen him reaching back?
She turned to the window, watching the fading storm roll across the mountains of Nightfang. Her breath fogged the glass. Beyond the forest, something ancient stirred in her blood — something older than the Academy, older than Kael's kingdom.
Her wolf.
Still silent.
Still sleeping.
But no longer absent.
Lyra pressed her palm to the windowpane. Deep inside her, something was listening now.
---
The dreams that night were not her own.
She stood in a forest of white trees, the moon glowing blood-red above her. A river ran through it, black as ink, its waters whispering her name.
A shadow emerged from between the trees — tall, glowing-eyed.
Kael?
No. Not him.
The silhouette moved like smoke and steel — a wolf, ancient and massive, with gold eyes just like Kael's but older… crueler… godlike.
"You carry a bond not made by man," the beast said, its voice like thunder rolling over bone.
Lyra couldn't speak. Couldn't breathe.
"You are not weak," it said, circling her. "You are not broken. You are buried."
Her heart pounded. "What… what are you?"
"I am what he fears. What they all fear. The truth inside you."
Its eyes blazed brighter. "You are the heir of the First Howl."
The dream ended in a gasp.
---
Lyra jolted upright, drenched in sweat, chest heaving. Her chamber was still dark, but the rain had stopped. The storm had passed.
The dream still echoed in her mind.
Heir of the First Howl?
Her breath shook as she slid off the bed and paced. She didn't know what it meant — but it felt real. Felt right. Like her wolf had finally whispered back through the veil.
Kael had said she was dangerous. That she was changing.
Maybe she was more than just a "defective" wolf girl.
Maybe she was becoming something no one — not even Kael — understood.
---
The bond pulsed again, sudden and sharp.
But this time, it wasn't longing.
It was warning.
Lyra spun toward the door just as it burst open — a masked figure in black leaping through, blade flashing in the candlelight.
Her instincts screamed, but her body moved too slow.
The assassin lunged.
She ducked just in time — the dagger slicing a few strands of her hair. She rolled, grabbing the metal basin from her table and hurling it with full force.
It struck the intruder in the shoulder.
He hissed — and lunged again.
But before he could strike, the door exploded inward with a snarl.
Kael.
He tackled the attacker with inhuman speed, claws out, fury unleashed. The two slammed into the far wall, growls echoing through the stone.
Lyra backed away, heart slamming in her chest.
The assassin managed one more lunge — a poisoned blade aimed not at Kael… but at her.
Kael moved faster than thought.
His body blocked the blow.
The dagger sank into his side.
He didn't even flinch — just snapped the intruder's neck and let the body crumple.
Then he turned to Lyra, blood already soaking his side.
"You okay?" he asked, breath ragged.
She nodded shakily. "You're— Kael, you're bleeding."
He winced as he pulled the blade from his ribs, his golden eyes still wild.
"I've had worse."
She moved to his side instinctively, helping him down to sit on the edge of the bed.
Her hands hovered over the wound. "I— I can get the healer."
"No," he said. "Stay."
Their eyes met — and something changed in the space between them. Not desire this time.
Something tender. Fragile. Real.
"You felt it, didn't you?" she whispered. "The bond — it warned me."
Kael gave a slow nod. "It's growing stronger. Fast."
"Why?" she asked. "What's happening to us?"
He looked away. "I don't know."
But he did. She could feel it.
And she knew then — this bond wasn't just about claiming or protection. It was something older. Deeper.
Something written in their blood long before they ever met.
Lyra reached out, gently pressing her palm to the wound on his side. The moment her skin touched his, the bond flared again — not with fire, but with light.
Warmth flooded through her fingers.
The bleeding slowed.
Kael's breath caught. "What are you doing?"
"I don't know," she whispered. "But I think… I'm healing you."
His hand found hers.
They stayed like that for a long moment — quiet, connected, changed.
When she looked up, Kael wasn't the Alpha who had marked her. He wasn't the enemy who ruled her fate.
He was something else.
A mirror of her own broken, bound soul.
And maybe — just maybe — the only one who could help her become what she was truly meant to be.