Elowen's POV
They always said the Blood Ceremony was just a formality.
That the worst I'd feel was the sting of a blade.
But no one warned me that my blood would scream.
The moon hung too low tonight—bloated and watching. Its silver glow seeped through the trees, turning the forest into a hushed cathedral of light and shadow. Even the wind refused to stir.
I stood at the edge of the clearing, cloaked in white, my heart thrumming like a trapped bird. All around the Blood Altar, the elders chanted in a language older than our bloodlines.
> "Elowen of Ashclaw," the High Seeress called. "Step forward. Let your blood awaken your bond."
I moved toward the altar, barefoot. The earth pulsed beneath me, faint but certain. My mother used to say the land remembers our names. Tonight, it felt like it remembered something else—something it feared.
I knelt before the altar and lifted the ceremonial blade. The hilt vibrated faintly, like it recognized me.
I hesitated.
And then I cut.
Blood spilled across the runes.
I expected a flicker. A glow.
Instead, the altar exploded in light.
A roar of power surged outward, blinding, violent. The elders cried out. Some fell to their knees. A pulse tore through the clearing like a heartbeat from the earth itself.
> And I was no longer Elowen of Ashclaw.
I screamed as heat flooded my veins. My body arched, shaking with something ancient and alive.
Visions slammed through me:
A wolf with burning eyes.
Fire consuming trees.
A mirror that bled.
And a voice—deep and distant—whispering through my bones:
> "You were never meant to belong here."
Then, silence.
When I came to, the moon was red.
The elders backed away, whispering in terror. "The altar shouldn't have reacted like that."
"She's cursed."
"No… she's marked."
The Seeress approached carefully. Her hands hovered above me, trembling.
"Elowen," she said, "this is not Ashclaw blood. This is something… older. Wilder."
"My parents—" I stammered, "they were born here. I—I don't know anything else."
But part of me did.
Because in that moment, I could feel it.
A second presence.
Not watching me—but awakening inside me.
---
They ended the ceremony without finishing the rites. No welcome chant. No acknowledgment. Just silence—and fear.
I fled the clearing, heart pounding, feet bloody from the broken roots beneath me. I didn't stop until I reached the river's edge.
I dropped to my knees and plunged my hands into the icy current, trying to wash away whatever I'd become. But my reflection shimmered strangely—my gray eyes now streaked with molten gold.
And then I heard it.
> "You're not supposed to be here."
A voice—deep, rough, more shadow than sound.
I spun around too fast, slipped—and fell. But an arm caught me. Solid. Steady. Warm.
He held me easily, like he'd done it before. Like he'd always been meant to.
He was tall, dressed in black, eyes the color of forest storm, hair falling in loose waves across a scarred brow. His scent hit me like rain after fire—earthy, wild… and painfully familiar.
"You—" I whispered. "Who are you?"
He didn't answer.
Instead, he searched my face like he was trying to remember a dream long forgotten.
"I felt your blood," he said finally. "It called all the way to Hollowveil."
My heart stuttered.
"That's cursed land."
"And yet…" he leaned closer, "here you are."
I should've been afraid. Everything about him screamed danger.
But all I felt was a pull.
> Like gravity had shifted.
"Why do I feel like I know you?" I asked.
His gaze sharpened. "Because some truths aren't remembered by the mind," he murmured, "but by the blood."
He reached up—slow, hesitant—and brushed a strand of hair behind my ear.
The moment his fingers touched my skin, the world held its breath.
> Time.
Sound.
The very forest.
All of it… stilled.
I tilted forward. My chest met his, not by decision—but by instinct. His breath warmed my cheek.
And for a heartbeat, I wanted him to kiss me.
To burn away the world and leave only this.
But he stepped back. Jaw tight.
"No," he breathed. "It's starting already."
"What is?"
"The bond."
A chill ran through me. "That's not possible. The ritual wasn't finished."
He laughed, bitter and broken. "Some bonds aren't forged by rituals. They were written into our blood before we were even born."
"You felt it too," I whispered.
He didn't deny it.
"Then why pull away?"
His hands clenched at his sides. "Because if I don't… I won't stop."
I took a step forward. "Maybe I don't want you to."
His eyes darkened—equal parts longing and restraint.
"Elowen," he said my name like a secret, "you don't know what you carry. And if we follow this… the whole pack will come for you."
"For us," I corrected.
He looked shattered and furious all at once.
Then, quietly, he turned toward the trees.
"Wait—what's your name?" I called.
He paused.
> "Kael."
And he was gone.
But the warmth of his touch still burned across my skin.
And something inside me—a piece I'd never known was missing—clicked into place.
---
As I stood alone by the river, the wind carried a whisper I couldn't shake.
> "You were never meant to belong here… because you were meant to belong to him."
His name echoed in my mind long after he disappeared.
Kael.
Like a thread pulling taut between us, refusing to loosen. My skin still tingled where he touched me—where his breath had hovered close enough to steal mine.
I stood motionless by the river, heart pounding, lungs barely working. Somewhere deep inside, something had stirred. Something ancient, and it wasn't going back to sleep.
My fingers curled tightly around my palm, the blood-mark still pulsing faintly beneath my skin. I rubbed at it, but it wouldn't fade.
A gust of wind moved through the trees, and for a split second, I thought I heard him again—Elowen…
It wasn't his voice. Not really.
But it carried the same weight. The same longing.
And I felt it in my bones.
He was still near.
Maybe not in body, but in essence.
> The bond had begun to thread itself between us.
And that terrified me more than the ceremony. More than Lucien's rejection. More than anything I had ever known.
Because Kael wasn't just a stranger from Hollowveil.
He had felt my blood awaken. He had come. He had known me without ever asking my name.
And worst of all… I had let him touch me.
Let him in.
Even now, I could still feel the aftershocks of that near-kiss. Of the way his breath had stuttered like he was fighting every instinct inside him.
> What would have happened if he hadn't pulled away?
Would I still be standing?
Or would I have vanished into him, like a spark swallowed by fire?
The moon above loomed larger now—red, full, ancient. Its light shimmered across the water, casting two reflections where there should only be one.
Mine.
And his.
But he was gone.
I should've been thinking of my pack. Of what the elders would say. Of how I had broken something sacred.
Instead, I found myself whispering his name again.
"Kael…"
The trees rustled in answer, but no figure appeared.
Only the wind.
Only the fire in my blood.
I sat at the riverbank, knees pulled to my chest, heart aching in ways I didn't yet understand.
Was it fate?
A curse?
A mistake?
All I knew was this: I didn't want to forget that feeling. The moment his eyes locked with mine. The moment the whole world fell away and there was only him—and me—and whatever lived between us.
I had heard stories of the First Bonds. The ones forged before the Moon gave rules. The ones formed from chaos and power and blood.
They said such bonds always ended in ruin.
But gods help me… I wanted to know how it began.