The Ghost between us
The woods were silent after Kael vanished. Even the wind had gone still, as if the forest itself held its breath.
Sera stood alone, heart thudding. The weight of the bond pressed against her ribs like a bruise she couldn't touch. Her fingers curled into fists at her sides.
He was gone. Again.
The shadows between the trees still clung to the shape of him. Like he'd never truly left. Like some part of him still lingered—angry, wounded, watching.
Sera exhaled shakily and turned to head back toward the pack.
The forest whispered. Leaves rustled where there was no breeze. A strange prickling crawled down her spine. And then—
A scream. Distant. Male.
She froze.
Then she ran.
Branches whipped at her arms as she pushed through the underbrush, breath catching, every instinct on edge.
She broke through a small clearing—and her blood went cold.
A body slumped against the base of a tree. Young. Unmoving. A pool of dark red staining the grass beneath his neck.
"Derek…" she breathed.
She dropped to her knees beside him. The warmth had already left his skin.
Then she saw it.
Above him, carved deep into the tree bark, was a mark. Sharp. Intentional. And old.
Not a claw mark. Not a warning from another wolf.
Something older.
Something darker.
She heard crashing behind her—and spun around.
Kael burst into the clearing, his eyes wild, scenting the blood before he even saw the body.
His gaze snapped to Sera.
To Derek.
To the symbol.
Then his face hardened like stone.
"This wasn't a rogue attack," he said, voice low.
Sera looked back at the mark, heart pounding.
"I think this was meant for us."
The stench of blood clung to Kael's skin like smoke—thick, metallic, inescapable. Derek's body was already cooling in the dirt, his throat slashed cleanly, almost too clean. No bite. No struggle.
Not a rogue. Not one of theirs.
Something worse.
Kael crouched by the tree, eyes locked on the symbol etched into the bark. The lines were deep and cruel, curved in a way that made his gut twist. He knew this symbol. Not from books. Not from training.
From nightmares.
Behind him, the others were gathering—jaws tight, whispers sharp, anger building like static before a storm.
He stood slowly, facing them, his voice cold and clipped. "No one touches the body until I say so."
His Beta, Corran, flinched but nodded. "This isn't a clean kill, Kael. It's… ritualistic."
Kael didn't answer. His gaze flicked toward Sera, still standing off to the side, arms wrapped around herself. Her eyes were fixed on the tree, not on the blood.
She recognized it too. He could see it in her face.
Later. He'd question her later.
Right now, he needed control.
He turned to his pack. "This wasn't an accident. This was a message."
"From who?" someone growled from the back.
Kael didn't blink. "I don't know yet. But it was left on our land. Which means it's our problem. And we'll handle it."
There was a low rumble of agreement, but it wasn't enough.
So Kael stepped forward, his voice like thunder:
"I want double patrols at every border. No one leaves without my word. And until I say otherwise—Sera stays inside the compound."
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Some surprised. Some smug.
Sera's head snapped toward him, eyes blazing.
"We're not finished," Kael said quietly, only for her.
And with that, he turned back to the symbol, the scent of blood, and the ghost of something far older than either of them.
The chamber was dark, windowless, carved from obsidian and sealed with runes that pulsed faintly beneath the floor. Only five chairs stood at the long table—elegant, cruel things made of metal and bone. One remained empty.
High Consul Malric Thorne—Kael's father—sat at the head, hands clasped, knuckles white.
The silence in the room was a language of its own.
"He was found near the eastern ridge," said Lady Solenne, brushing blood-red hair behind her ear. "Throat slashed. Not bitten. No signs of struggle. It was clean."
"Ritualistic," added Lord Edevan, leaning forward. "There was a symbol carved into the bark. The old language. The forbidden kind."
Malric didn't move. "And Kael?"
"He secured the scene. Took control immediately," Solenne said. "Ordered a lockdown. Doubled patrols."
A pause.
"He also gave orders that Seraphina is not to leave the compound."
A twitch in Malric's jaw. "Interesting. He's asserting dominance."
"Or reacting emotionally," said Edevan dryly. "The girl's presence complicates things. The bond could be fraying his control."
"She was his brother's mate," another Councilor added. "And now the bond is awakening. You expected him to remain unaffected?"
Malric's eyes glinted like steel. "I expect him to rule. Not feel."
The room fell quiet again.
Then Solenne spoke, voice quieter. "The symbol… it's not just old. It's Outer Realms. Blood-bound magic. Whoever did this didn't just want the boy dead. They wanted to warn us."
"Or provoke us," Edevan added.
Finally, Malric stood, slow and deliberate. "Send a raven to the northern covens. Discreetly. If blood-bound magic is leaking into our borders, I want eyes on it. Quiet eyes."
"And Seraphina?" Solenne asked.
"She stays," Malric said. "She's a weakness… but perhaps also a thread. One Kael will pull if pushed hard enough."
He turned away from them all.
"Let's see what unravels."
Sera didn't hear him enter. One moment she was alone in the abandoned greenhouse behind the main house, her fingers trailing over the wilted petals of a dying moonbloom. The next, the air shifted. He was there.
Kael.
"You're not supposed to be here," he said. His voice was low, a snarl dressed in silk.
Sera didn't turn around. "Since when do you follow the rules?"
He didn't answer immediately, and that silence told her everything—something had changed. She finally looked over her shoulder.
His eyes were sharp. Controlled. But his jaw was clenched tight, and she could smell the storm underneath.
"The Council met," he said. "They think you're a liability."
"I'm sure they do." She turned fully now, chin lifted. "But I'm still here. You didn't send me away."
His gaze flickered—anger, hesitation, something darker. "They think the murder was a warning. They found ancient symbols carved into the trees."
That made her blood run cold.
"I didn't do it," she said quietly.
"I didn't say you did."
"But you thought it."
His silence stung more than any accusation.
"I don't know what's happening," she continued, trying to steady her voice. "But I can feel it, Kael. Something's wrong. And it's not just the bond."
He stepped closer. "Everything is wrong because of the bond."
She flinched.
He kept going. "You want honesty? I'm barely holding this place together. The Council is circling like vultures. My own father is watching every move I make. And then you show up, and suddenly everything burns."
"Then let me go," she whispered, eyes shining. "Break it. If it's killing you, if I'm ruining everything, just—"
"I can't," he snapped, voice ragged. "Don't you get it? I've tried. It won't break."
The words hung there, raw and bleeding.
Sera looked away, swallowing the lump in her throat. "Maybe we were never meant to survive it."
Kael's expression cracked—just a fraction. "Or maybe we were never meant to choose."
He took another step toward her. "They'll use you, Sera. To get to me. To tear this pack apart. You think you're the victim in this story, but you're the weapon they'll wield if you let them."
"I'm not your enemy," she whispered.
He looked at her for a long, haunted second. Then turned his back again—like he always did.
"No," he said. "You're the test."
And then he was gone.