They didn't speak for almost an hour after the light faded from Seren's belly.
She didn't know what to say. Cael's hand had barely brushed hers, and the pull between them had surged like it was being fed—like their bond was no longer forming but accelerating.
Seren sat on a flat stone beneath the tall marker, heart racing, one hand over her stomach, the other pressed to the ground for balance.
Cael stood a few paces away, arms crossed, jaw tight.
He hadn't looked at her since the glow faded.
"Cael," she said finally, "you need to tell me what you're not saying."
He didn't move.
"You've seen this before. You recognized that symbol. You knew what the magic was when I asked. So tell me."
He didn't speak, but the air between them shifted. The tension thickened. He was deciding something. Whether to trust her. Whether to run.
Then, finally, he sat down across from her.
"When I was fifteen," he said, voice low, "my pack was destroyed."
Seren stayed still.
"The elders said it was an accident. A freak fire. But I saw what really happened. It wasn't fire. It was magic."
"What kind?"
He looked up at her. His eyes weren't glowing. They were flat. Controlled. "The kind that doesn't leave survivors."
Seren felt a chill pass through her.
"It came from a child. A girl. Maybe eight years old. The same glow. Same pull. She didn't scream. Didn't run. She just watched as everyone around her… turned."
"Turned?"
"They changed. Mid-shift. Incomplete. Bones breaking wrong. Blood boiling through their veins. It was like she didn't just carry magic. She was magic."
Seren's mouth went dry.
"What happened to her?"
"I don't know. She vanished. The elders covered it up. Said nothing. Sent me away." His fingers flexed against his leg. "Said I had dangerous blood. Too much wolf. Not enough control."
"You think she was like my baby."
He didn't answer.
"Or worse," she said.
Still nothing.
"Why didn't you tell me this sooner?"
He met her eyes.
"Because I thought if I stayed quiet… I could protect you from knowing."
Seren stood, her voice rising. "You think I can't handle the truth?"
"I think the truth might kill you."
Her breath caught.
He stood too.
"Whatever this child is," he said, "it's not just rare. It's wrong. It doesn't follow bloodlines. It doesn't obey rules. And if the wrong people find out, they won't stop at rejection. They'll burn entire bloodlines to wipe it away."
She clenched her fists. "You don't know that."
"I do," he snapped. "Because it already happened once."
She turned away, her back to him.
"I didn't ask for this," she whispered.
"I know."
"I didn't betray Lucan. I didn't want another bond. I didn't choose you, Cael."
"I didn't choose you either," he said.
His voice wasn't cruel.
It was broken.
And that hurt worse.
They traveled in silence the rest of the day.
Seren didn't ask where they were going anymore. She just followed. Let her instincts carry her forward. Her mind churned with fear and doubt.
What was this child?
Why had it chosen her?
And why did fate keep tying her to men who didn't want her—only what she carried?
By dusk, they found shelter beneath an overhang of rock and moss. Cael built a small fire with dry wood pulled from under his coat. Seren sat beside it, exhausted.
She didn't look at him.
Didn't need to.
She could feel him now. Not just see him. The bond buzzed between them—low, slow, waiting.
She could fight it.
But it wouldn't stop.
Not anymore.
He sat across from her after nightfall, eyes fixed on the flames.
Then he said something that froze her breath.
"I'm not who you think I am."
She turned her head.
"What does that mean?"
"My name isn't just Cael. That's what I go by. But my real name… was erased."
He reached into his coat and pulled out something small—a chipped metal tag, rusted with age.
It had a mark burned into it.
Not a name.
A crest.
A wolf head with wings behind it.
"This was my house," he said. "Before it was burned. Before the Council made sure no one remembered it existed."
Seren stared.
"You're royal," she whispered.
He didn't nod. Didn't deny it.
"You're the lost heir."
"I was supposed to be dead. My bloodline was wiped out in secret. But I escaped."
Her mind spun.
"Why?"
"Because my family had seer blood in it."
Her stomach turned.
"They feared what I might carry. What I might father."
The fire crackled between them.
Cael's voice dropped lower.
"That's why I can't bond with you."
Her chest tightened. "Because you're afraid of what we'd create?"
He didn't answer.
"You already feel it," she said.
"I do."
"So what's the difference? We're already tied."
"I can't protect you," he said. "Not from what this will bring. Not from what I carry."
She reached across the fire and touched his hand.
He let her.
The bond sparked again.
Clearer now.
Stronger.
Like it wanted to finish forming.
"Maybe," she said softly, "you don't have to protect me. Maybe we protect each other."