Celeste sat by the river well after Lyra and Thorne had gone. The sun had shifted in the sky, but she barely noticed. Her fingers trailed patterns in the water while her thoughts tangled like roots beneath the surface. The warmth Lyra had brought with her lingered, but so did the chill that followed the unknown—the stranger who had appeared and disappeared like mist.
She didn't speak of him to the others. Not yet. She wasn't even sure he'd been real.
But the feeling he left behind… that lingering pull in her chest… it was far too familiar.
Her peace was interrupted by the soft crunch of boots behind her. She turned slowly, her heart skipping—but it wasn't Azrael.
It was a tall, lean man with silver-blond hair and striking ice-blue eyes. He looked young, but something in his gaze spoke of years beyond time. At his side was a woman with short black curls, broad shoulders, and a scar that ran from her cheek to her jaw. She radiated command.
"I didn't mean to startle you," the man said gently, offering a polite nod. "I'm Riven. And this is Commander Kira. We're members of Azrael's pack."
Celeste stood, brushing off her skirts, her instincts prickling. She didn't flinch, but her hands trembled slightly behind her back.
"I didn't know there were more of you," she said softly.
"There are many," Kira replied, her voice deep and assured. "But we've been watching from afar. Azrael didn't want to overwhelm you."
Celeste swallowed. "You mean he's been… keeping me isolated?"
"Protected," Riven said quickly, his tone soothing. "Azrael has his reasons. You've been through more than any of us could imagine."
She looked down at her reflection in the river. "I don't know who I am anymore."
Riven took a step forward, but paused when she subtly leaned away. "You'll find out. The truth of who you are—it's not something we can give you. But we can walk with you while you uncover it."
Kira crossed her arms. "And if that strange presence returns, we'll be ready."
Celeste stiffened. "You sensed him too?"
Riven nodded. "A shadow in the woods. Watching. Not hostile—but connected to you."
"Connected how?"
"We don't know yet," he said. "But something ancient stirs when you're near. Even the forest breathes differently."
Before Celeste could ask more, a sharp howl pierced the air in the distance. Thorne's voice echoed through the trees.
"Return to camp. Now."
Riven and Kira exchanged a look, instantly alert. Riven stepped toward Celeste, offering his hand—but she took a step back.
"I can walk," she said quietly.
He nodded. "Of course."
As they made their way back through the woods, the air grew colder, thicker. The trees whispered again. And behind them, unseen once more, the stranger moved.
Only this time… he smiled.
The air was thick when they reached the edge of the camp again, the tension unmistakable. Celeste felt it press against her skin like a second layer—one she couldn't shed. Warriors were emerging from the woods, pack members she hadn't seen before. They moved with sharp grace and silent coordination, eyes sharp and trained on their surroundings.
Azrael stood at the center, towering and still, his crimson gaze locked on something—or someone—beyond the trees.
When he saw Celeste, his posture shifted subtly. Relief. Then, protectiveness.
He crossed to her in long, purposeful strides. "Are you alright?"
She nodded, but he knew the truth even without her saying it. Her fingers were curled into the hem of her tunic. Her eyes darted, searching for danger in every flicker of shadow.
"I met two of your pack," she said softly, gesturing behind her. "Riven and Commander Kira."
Azrael's gaze flicked to them and then back to her. "Good. You should know them."
"I didn't know there were so many of you," she admitted.
"You weren't ready yet. I didn't want to… crowd you."
Celeste glanced over her shoulder at the others now filtering in. A tall, caramel-skinned woman with blazing orange eyes gave her a respectful nod. A shorter man with wild auburn curls offered a bright, crooked grin and a clumsy wave.
Kira stepped up beside Azrael. "We should finish introductions before nightfall. The border wards are humming again."
Celeste tilted her head. "The wards?"
"They react to power," Azrael explained. "And someone—or something—was near the perimeter again. Same as last night."
The stranger.
A chill ran down her spine, but she didn't speak.
Azrael turned to her gently. "There's someone I want you to meet. Someone very important to me—and to the pack."
He led her past the flickering fires toward a large stone circle at the far end of camp. Waiting there, seated on a rock with a large white wolf by his side, was an older man. His beard was silver, his eyes the same piercing red as Azrael's. But unlike Azrael, this man's gaze held age—memories of too many winters.
"This is Elder Malric," Azrael said. "My father's closest advisor."
Malric gave a nod of respect. "The mate of our King. At last, we meet."
Celeste felt her cheeks warm. "I… I'm not sure I'm worthy of that title yet."
"You are," Azrael said firmly. "You always were."
Malric studied her a moment longer, then said, "You carry something within you. Not just power. Memory. Bloodlines far older than the Kingdoms."
Celeste blinked. "You mean the vision—"
Azrael's jaw clenched. "She's been seeing things. Hearing… things."
"That is the beginning," Malric said calmly. "But not the end. There is something—someone—tied to her soul. A bond older than even your throne, Azrael."
Celeste's breath caught.
Azrael stepped forward, protective. "Are you saying this… stranger is f*cking bonded to her?"
"I'm saying," Malric replied, "that fate has a twisted sense of humor. And we would do well to prepare."
Celeste swayed slightly, overwhelmed. Azrael was beside her in an instant, his hand ghosting near hers, not touching—but offering.
And for the first time… she reached out and took it.