Chapter 3 3

The forest beyond Nightpaw territory had always carried an eerie stillness in the hours before dawn- when the darkness seemed to breathe and the shadows watched with ancient eyes. But this morning, it felt different.

Wrong.

Leila moved through the dense trees like a wraith, every step silent. The fog curled around her ankles, thick and unnatural. Her senses, sharp as they were, felt dulled here, as if something- someone -was pressing against her mind.

She reached the outermost ward just before sunrise.

It flickered like a heartbeat, thin and pulsing, carved with symbols etched in ash and wolf's blood. Carley's wards were weakening. She could see the cracks now- splintering like ice under too much weight.

She knelt beside one of the sigils, placing her palm just above the damp earth.

"Sister moon, lend me your fire," she whispered, calling on the oldest parts of herself. "Let the veil hold one night more."

Her magic slid into the ground like smoke, feeding the ward with silver fire. The symbols hissed as they brightened, glowing just enough to reestablish the line. Not enough to strengthen the entire barrier. Not for long.

But enough for now.

As she stood, she caught the scent of blood.

Not old blood. Fresh.

And familiar.

She spun, following the trail deeper into the woods. Her wolf stirred beneath her skin, pacing. Growling.

Leila picked up speed, her legs moving instinctively, her breath sharp in the cold. The mist thickened. The trees seemed to close in.

Then she saw it.

A body slumped against the base of a twisted pine, half-covered in frost. Male. Young. One of the outer sentries. His throat was torn out, his eyes frozen open in horror.

But that wasn't the worst part.

The worst part was the sigil carved into his chest. Not by claw. By something colder.

A spiral. Hooked like a predator's jaw.

The mark of the Hollowborn.

"Dammit," she hissed, kneeling beside him.

He was already too far gone. No breath, no heartbeat. But his lips-stained black-still moved, ever so slightly.

Leila leaned close.

"Run," he croaked. "Run..."

She barely had time to leap back before the shadows exploded outward from his body like a tidal wave.

The fog thickened, alive now, clawing at her mind. She staggered, stumbling back toward the ward, trying to remember the anchor phrases, the protective chants.

Something screeched behind her-a sound that wasn't of this world.

The trees trembled.

Her lungs burned.

Not yet, she thought. *Not here. Not without warning them.

She reached the ward line just as the darkness lunged.

Leila threw her arms wide and screamed the banishment rite, her voice slicing through the gloom:

"By moon and fire, I sever this thread-return to dust, your hunger dead!"

The ward flared behind her, and with a roar like tearing flesh, the shadow was sucked back, vanishing into the forest.

Silence fell.

And then- A second voice. Not hers. Not the Hollowborn's. But unmistakably familiar.

"Still casting half-formed spells without backup. Some things never change."

Carley.

Leila spun, panting, to find him leaning against a tree just inside the boundary line. His shirt was unbuttoned at the throat, damp with sweat, his dark hair mussed, his eyes sharper than she'd seen them in days.

"You followed me."

"Of course I did."

She growled low in her throat. "I told you to stay within the compound."

He stepped forward, his voice low. "And I told you I wasn't going to let you fight this alone."

"You're not strong enough yet."

"I am."

Leila stepped between him and the boundary. "No. You're not."

Carley's gaze dropped briefly to the sigils around them. "That mark-it was on a body last night. One of my scouts. We found him near the west ridge."

"Same spiral?"

He nodded.

Leila exhaled shakily. "It's not random. They're targeting the border wolves."

"They're testing us."

"Or thinning your pack," she murmured. "So there's no one left to resist when they take you."

He went quiet.

Leila turned to face him fully. "We have to perform the ritual."

Carley's brow furrowed. "You mean the cleansing?"

"No." Her voice dropped. "The *binding.*"

His eyes widened. "Leila..."

"I know what it means."

"It means re-forging the bond. Completely."

"I *know.*"

Carley's jaw tensed. "After everything we've been through, you'd still choose to tie yourself to me again? Even after I-"

"Rejected me?" she said bitterly. "Left me bleeding on the temple floor? Yeah, I remember."

She stepped closer, heart pounding.

"But this isn't about *us* anymore. If we don't forge a new bond, the old one will remain cracked. And that crack is where they live."

Carley was silent for a long time.

Then he spoke, softly. "If we do this-if we bind again-it'll change everything."

"It already has," she said. "You just haven't accepted it yet."

They stared at each other, the wind rising around them, carrying the scent of ash and blood.

Finally, Carley gave a slow nod.

"Then we do it tonight."

---

Back at the compound, preparations were already underway.

Leila had never been one for ceremony, but binding rituals required precision-and pain. Especially ones done outside of a mating claim. This wasn't a rekindled love story. This was a war-forged union.

The ritual circle was drawn in salt and blood on the stone floor beneath the sanctuary. Dozens of candles flickered along the outer ring, their flames dancing in time with the rise and fall of ancient chants spoken by Rowan and the elders.

Carley knelt on one side of the circle. Leila on the other.

Between them, a silver blade.

The Bloodmoon would be at its peak in just minutes.

Leila looked up at him. His face was stoic, but his eyes burned.

"No hesitation," she warned. "Once this starts, it can't be stopped."

He met her gaze. "Do it."

She picked up the blade.

Sliced her palm.

Then handed it to him.

He did the same.

Their blood dripped into the small silver bowl at the center of the circle. The moment their blood mingled, the candles flared white-hot.

Rowan stepped back, eyes wide.

The air vibrated.

Then came the voices.

First soft. Then louder. A thousand whispers in a language neither of them could understand. The Hollowborn.

Leila felt them try to reach for her, clawing at the corners of her mind.

Carley let out a gasp, his body convulsing as the shadows inside him surged.

Leila crawled toward him, seizing his bloody hand in hers.

"Say it," she commanded.

"I, Carley Nightpaw," he gasped, "bind my blood and soul to Leila under the Bloodmoon's vow."

"I, Leila of the Hollow Guard, accept this vow-and give mine in return."

A pulse of light exploded from the bowl.

The shadows screamed-and fled.

Carley collapsed forward into her arms, gasping for air, his body trembling. Leila cradled him, her own strength nearly spent.

But the bond...

The bond was whole.

No longer fractured. No longer bleeding.

It pulsed between them like a second heartbeat-ancient, powerful, *theirs.*

For better or worse.

---

Later, after the flames had died and the compound lay in uneasy silence, Carley found her alone beneath the old pine on the northern edge of camp.

He didn't speak at first.

Just stood beside her.

Finally, he said, "I felt you. Every day since I rejected you. The pain. The silence. The emptiness."

Leila didn't look at him. "Then why didn't you come back?"

"Because I didn't think I deserved to."

She turned to him. Her face was hard-but her eyes weren't.

"I don't forgive you," she said. "Not yet."

"I'm not asking you to."

He reached for her hand. Just barely touched it.

"But I want to earn it. If there's still a way."

She didn't answer. But she didn't pull away. And above them, the Bloodmoon faded. But the war was only just beginning.

---

The forest had long since returned to stillness, but a tremor remained under Leila's skin-a pulse she couldn't quite shake. It wasn't fear. Not anymore.

It was change.

The bond was re-forged, but it felt different from the first time. Stronger. Wilder. It didn't just anchor her to Carley; it magnified her senses. She could feel his heartbeat even now, steady but cautious. His emotions were open, raw, no longer shielded behind the wall he had so carefully built.

And in her chest, a flicker of something old stirred again.

Not trust.

Not yet.

But something close.

"I meant what I said," Carley murmured, voice soft, pulling her from her thoughts. "I want to earn it. Your forgiveness."

Leila stood, brushing off the dried pine needles from her legs. "Then don't waste time with apologies. Show me with action."

Carley nodded once, serious. "Then let's start with the Hollowborn. We need to move on them-now that they know we're reforging strength, they won't wait."

"They never wait," Leila said bitterly. "But attacking them outright? That's a death sentence."

"Not if we lure them to us."

She shot him a sharp glance. "Are you suggesting we bait them?"

His eyes glinted. "Yes. We let them think the bond left us vulnerable. Then strike from a position of control."

Leila folded her arms. "That's reckless."

"It's bold," he countered. "And you didn't pick a coward for a mate, remember?"

Her lips twitched despite herself. "You weren't my choice," she reminded him. "Fate chose you."

His grin faded slowly. "And I spent too long fighting that."

A beat passed between them. Then another.

She turned, starting back toward the sanctuary. "Come. We'll bring the council into this. You might not be a coward-but we'll need more than bravery to win a war."

As they moved through the dense woods, a low howl rose in the distance. Not from any pack wolf.

No, this sound was broken-fragmented. As though something hollow tried to mimic the voice of a wolf and failed.

Leila stopped dead in her tracks.

Carley heard it too. "It's close."

"Too close," she whispered.

Just then, a scout burst from the treeline up ahead. Younger than most, barely shifted into his full wolf, his eyes wild with terror. He stumbled as he ran, blood streaking his side.

"Alpha! Commander!"

Carley caught him as he fell. "What is it?"

"They're here," the scout panted. "Three miles west. Past the blackwater river. At least twenty... no, more. Too many. Some aren't fully wolf."

Leila's heart clenched. "They've breached the outer forests."

The boy nodded. "They didn't chase me. Just... watched. And whispered."

She knelt beside him. "Did they speak your name?"

The boy's eyes filled with tears. "All of them did."

Carley exchanged a grim look with Leila. "It's begun."

Later That Night

The council chamber beneath the sanctuary blazed with torchlight. Tension hung thick in the air.

Leila stood at the center of the circular room, Carley at her side. The elders of the Nightpaw Pack watched with wary eyes, some suspicious, others desperate.

Rowan, ever the quiet sentinel, stood behind them both-his presence a calm but commanding force.

Elder Miriam, sharp-eyed and silver-haired, rose first. "You expect us to believe a second binding has erased the Hollowborn corruption? That this bond will protect us from what's already infected our land?"

"It hasn't erased the threat," Leila said evenly. "But it's given us a weapon we didn't have before. The darkness used the broken bond to infiltrate us. Now it's sealed. The crack is gone."

A younger councilman, Thomas, leaned forward. "But can you control it? Can you feel their magic still?"

Carley stepped forward, his voice clear. "Yes. I can feel them. And that gives us an advantage. We know when they're near. We can sense their movements. Leila can anchor me when the voices get close."

Rowan added, "We don't need to fight them in the dark anymore."

Murmurs rippled through the council.

Then came the voice Leila dreaded most-Elder Vaughn. His hatred had always simmered close to the surface.

"Convenient that she returns now," he said coldly, eyes piercing Leila. "After years gone. After breaking rank. And now she claims her bond to the Alpha will save us?"

Carley's growl was low and guttural. "Watch your tone."

But Leila held up a hand.

"I didn't return for forgiveness," she said. "I returned because there is no one else left who knows what the Hollowborn truly are. You've seen their whispers in the woods, their shadows in your dreams. You've seen the spiral carved in your dead."

Vaughn's silence was telling.

"Call it fate. Call it strategy. I don't care," she continued. "But this bond-this war-forges us as one. You can either stand with us, or you can stand aside."

It was Miriam who finally spoke again. "Then what do you propose?"

Carley answered. "We bait them. We feed them a false signal-a scent trail that leads them to believe Leila is breaking again, that the bond is weakening. We lure their Seer into range."

"And when they arrive?" asked another.

"We trap them," Leila said. "We bind them in ash and blood. And we burn them from the inside out."

A heavy silence followed her words.

Then slowly, one by one, the council nodded.

It had begun.

Midnight

The trap was set.

Leila stood at the center of the old ritual glade, the blood of a dead deer smeared across her shoulders. The scent of sickness had been carefully brewed by Rowan and laced into the trees-a mimicry of fading magic and ruptured bonds.

The Hollowborn would smell it from miles away.

She stood still, breathing shallowly, as the mist returned. Her hands itched. Her wolf wanted to run.

But she couldn't. Not now.

Carley was hidden just beyond the circle, cloaked in shadow and runes. Rowan and the others waited, their blades blessed and sharpened.

All that remained was silence.

Then-whispers.

The trees groaned.

And something stepped into the glade.

Not a wolf.

A creature.

Part man, part shadow. No eyes. No mouth. Just a spiral carved across its chest and a voice made of hundreds.

"You... should not have returned..."

Leila swallowed her fear. "Neither should you."

It took another step. Then another. Behind it, more shadows crawled from the trees. Just as they reached the circle's edge- Carley burst forth with a howl that cracked the air like thunder. The runes ignited. The shadows screamed. And the glade was fire and ash and fury.