Kael had always carried the fire in silence.
Even before the bond.
Before the war.
Before Selene.
The wolfblood in him ran deep—older than most packs could remember. And with it came an oath, whispered into his soul the night he first shifted beneath the bleeding moon.
He'd thought it buried.
He'd thought love had severed it.
But fire never forgets.
---
The forest burned in his dream.
Not with heat—but with memory.
He walked through flames that didn't scorch, past trees that whispered his name.
And at the center, bound in blackened chains, stood a figure—massive, beastly, crowned in smoke.
> "You have not answered," it said.
Kael didn't move. "I broke my oath long ago."
The creature snarled. "You didn't break it. You abandoned it. And now it calls back what was promised."
Kael's eyes flared gold.
And he woke—sweat-soaked, breathless.
Selene stirred beside him. "Another vision?"
He didn't answer.
He was already listening to the fire.
And it was whispering his name.
---
By midday, the skies darkened again—not from prophecy, but from smoke curling in from the east.
Naeria returned from the watchpost with urgency in her voice. "The Flame Pact sigil has reawakened. It's branded into the sky above the Ironroot cliffs."
Selene blinked. "What does that mean?"
Rowan growled low. "It means a claim's been invoked. Someone wants a wolf back."
All eyes turned to Kael.
---
He stood at the edge of the clearing, his back straight, jaw clenched.
"I never spoke of it," he said at last. "Because I thought I'd outrun it."
Selene stepped forward. "Kael, what is it?"
He turned to her slowly.
And in a voice she had never heard before—low, ancient, bound—he said:
> "I made a blood-pact with the Emberborn. A fire-clan from before the lands split. They raised me after my parents died. Taught me to shift. But their loyalty came with a vow: when the fire calls, I answer. No matter who I've become."
Selene's breath caught. "And if you don't?"
He met her gaze.
> "The fire comes for us all."
---
That night, the flames danced higher than usual.
The twins watched from afar, their glow flickering as if in rhythm with the heat.
Elira whispered, "The fire's alive."
Theron didn't answer.
Because he already knew.
---
Selene followed Kael into the woods.
Neither spoke for a long time.
Finally, she said, "You'd tell me if you were going to leave… wouldn't you?"
Kael stopped.
Turned.
And when he spoke, his voice cracked:
> "I would die before I left you. But if I stay… they'll burn everything to the ground to take me."
She stepped closer.
Pressed her forehead to his.
"Then we stand in the fire together."
---
They rode at dawn.
Selene. Kael. Rowan. Naeria. The twins.
Toward the Ironroot cliffs, where flame and pact and past collided.
The land grew black and brittle.
The air tasted of ash and iron.
And at the top of the cliffs, they saw it:
A circle of flame.
Within it, four figures cloaked in ember-skin armor.
And at the center, a pyre.
Waiting.
---
A woman stepped forward.
Her eyes were fire.
Her voice was smoke.
> "Kael Emberbound. Son of the Pact. We call your fire home."
Selene stepped forward before Kael could.
"His fire belongs to no one but himself."
The woman laughed—a terrible, hollow sound.
> "Fire is not owned. It is owed."
---
Naeria hissed a spell under her breath.
Rowan's blade was half-drawn.
But Kael lifted a hand.
"I will answer," he said.
Selene turned sharply. "Kael—"
But his eyes glowed.
"I'll answer in my own way."
---
He stepped into the ring.
And shifted.
But not into his usual form.
This wolf was larger—wreathed in gold fire, eyes pure white, fangs like forged steel.
The Emberborn stepped back.
The fire bowed.
Kael raised his head to the sky—and howled.
A howl that broke the oath.
A howl that shattered the flames.
A howl that said: I am free.
---
The fire died.
The pact cracked.
And the Emberborn vanished into ash.
---
When Kael stepped out of the circle, Selene was waiting.
She threw her arms around him—tears falling onto his still-warm skin.
"You're mine," she whispered.
He kissed her brow.
"I always was."
---
That night, the fire they lit was soft.
Warm.
Home.
The kind that cooked food and warmed feet—not one that demanded blood.
And in the quiet, Theron said, "You changed fate again."
Kael looked up at the stars.
"No," he said. "I just took it back."
---