The sunrise split the forest in ribbons of gold, but there was no warmth in it. Not today.
Eva woke to a rumble beneath her feet, a low tremor that made the wooden floorboards hum beneath the bed. She sat upright, heart racing. It wasn't a dream this time—no nightmare clawing at the edges of sleep. This was real.
The door slammed open.
Aidan stood in the frame, bare-chested, hair wild, his breathing ragged. His eyes—those wolf-gold eyes—gleamed with urgency.
"Get up. Now."
Eva scrambled out of bed, the fear in his voice overriding any questions. She yanked on her boots, grabbed the knife he'd given her—etched with silver runes—and met him at the door.
"What is it?" she asked.
"Something's coming," Aidan said, already leading her into the woods. "Something worse than before."
They didn't head for the usual paths. Aidan veered uphill, past the boundary stones laced with protective sigils, until they reached a ridge overlooking a valley of dense pine.
Below, something moved.
A dark figure stalked between the trees, massive, hunched, with a grotesque symmetry. It walked on two legs but leaned forward like it had forgotten what being human meant. Two smaller shapes flanked it—rogues, vicious and lean.
Eva whispered, "Is that… another werewolf?"
"No," Aidan said. "That's a feral Alpha. One of the fallen. Garrick."
Her blood ran cold. "You know him?"
"I did. Before he lost himself to the beast. Before he was exiled."
As if sensing them, the figure below stopped. Slowly, it raised its head—and smiled directly at them.
"Run," Aidan growled.
But the forest exploded beneath them before they could take a step.
The feral Alpha lunged up the slope in a blur, covering fifty feet in seconds. Aidan shoved Eva behind him as claws raked the air where she'd stood.
The impact sent them rolling down the hill. Aidan hit a rock, his shoulder twisting with a sickening pop, but he didn't falter. He roared, shifting mid-motion. Fur burst from his skin. Bones cracked. His wolf form surged forward.
Garrick met him with a bone-breaking crash.
The two wolves collided with a fury that shook the trees. Claw against claw. Fang against fang. Aidan, smaller but faster, danced around Garrick's brute strength, but he was already hurt.
Eva rolled to her feet, vision swimming, dirt caked in her mouth. She fumbled for the knife and saw Aidan slammed into a boulder, blood streaking the stone.
"Aidan!" she screamed.
Garrick turned to her.
She barely got the knife up in time. He batted her aside like a child, sending her flying. Pain blossomed in her side as she hit the ground.
Aidan let out a howl—pure rage and terror—and charged. He bit down on Garrick's leg, dragging the beast backward.
But Garrick caught him, lifted him into the air, and slammed him down.
Aidan shifted back in a burst of blood and steam, too wounded to hold his form.
Eva blinked through tears. He lay there, human again, gasping, blood pouring from his side. His arm hung limp. His ribs were crushed.
"No," she whispered. She pushed herself up, crawling toward them.
Garrick stalked forward, savoring his kill.
Then Eva's hand closed around something in the dirt—an arrow, tipped in silver.
She didn't hesitate.
She stood, aimed, and threw.
The arrow buried itself deep into Garrick's chest.
He howled—an ungodly, echoing scream—and staggered backward. With a furious roar, he turned and bounded into the trees, vanishing like smoke.
Eva fell beside Aidan.
"Don't you dare die," she whispered, pressing her jacket against the wound in his side. "Don't you dare."
He coughed, a horrible wet sound. "I… tried…"
"Save your breath. I need to stop the bleeding."
She pulled the rune-knife and drew a shaky circle in the dirt. With a slice of her palm, she smeared blood over his chest and whispered the spell Aidan had once shown her.
"Bind him. To life. To me."
The runes glowed faintly, pulsing like a heartbeat. She felt something tug—deep and magical, like an invisible thread winding tighter.
Aidan groaned. His eyes opened, cloudy with pain.
"I… felt you."
"I'm here," she said, voice cracking. "You came back."
"I never left."
Then he went still.
His pulse faded beneath her hands.
"No. No, no—please!" She pressed down harder, sobbing now. "Stay with me."
For an agonizing moment, nothing.
Then—his chest rose.
A shudder. A gasp. He was breathing again.
---
Hours passed. She got him back to the cabin—dragged, half-carried, every step fueled by desperation. She cleaned the wounds, stitched the worst of them, brewed teas from memory and instinct.
He didn't wake again until nightfall.
His eyes opened slowly, tracking her face.
"You didn't run," he murmured.
"I never will."
He tried to sit up, winced. "Garrick…"
"Gone. For now."
He touched her hand. "He'll come back."
"I'll be ready."
They sat in silence, the candle between them flickering. Then Aidan said, "He was after you, Eva. Not just me."
She froze. "What?"
"He smelled it. Like I did. You're… more. You have magic in your blood. Something old. Ancient."
She shook her head. "I'm just a girl."
"You're not. And Garrick knows it."
Silence stretched between them.
Finally, Aidan leaned closer. "You bound me to life with your blood."
"You would've done the same."
"I already did," he whispered, brushing her cheek. "The moment I met you."
Their lips met, and the world softened. For a moment, there was no forest, no feral Alpha, no blood.
Only them.
Alive. Bound.
Together.