I lay gasping on the stone, chest burning, the air thick with charged magic.
The elder struck the staff once more. “The bond is sealed.”
Silence fell.
No thunder. No divine chorus.
Only the sound of my own heartbeat — heavier now, deeper, threaded with something darker than silver.
Nicero knelt beside me, his breath unsteady. “Can you stand?”
I nodded, though my limbs trembled violently. He helped me upright, his hand firm at my elbow — not claiming, not restraining. Supporting.
“You’re Blackfang now,” he said quietly.
The words should have terrified me.
Instead, they felt like armor.
---
Kael arrived three days later.
Blackfang’s border wards screamed.
I felt him before the alarm howls reached the citadel — felt the mate-mark scar on my shoulder burn like molten iron, not awakening, but reacting to proximity. My wolf surged violently, instinct screaming that something old and dangerous had crossed into forbidden ground.
Nicero was already on his feet when I burst into the war chamber.
“He’s here,” I said.
He nodded grimly. “I know.”
The elders had gathered within minutes, war-maps spreading across the stone table as sentinels poured in with updates.