The room was silent, save for the crackle of low-burning embers.
Elara blinked awake, heartbeat slow and heavy—like it was being pressed between stone plates. Her mouth was dry. Her limbs sore. The blood-vow carved into her collarbone pulsed faintly beneath the silk of her nightdress.
It took her a moment to realize why she'd woken.
Not a noise.
Not a dream.
A presence.
She sat up.
Kael was seated at the foot of her bed.
Shirtless, moonlight pooling across the scars on his spine. His head was bowed low, one hand braced against his knee. The other—
—was in his mouth.
No.
Between his teeth.
He was biting his fingers. Hard.
Too hard.
Blood welled between his knuckles.
And he was licking it.
Slowly.
Rhythmically.
Like penance.
"Kael?" Her voice was soft, unsure.
He didn't look at her.
Didn't stop.
"Elara," he said eventually. "Go back to sleep."
She swung her legs over the side of the bed.
"I can't."
"You should."
"You're bleeding."
He flexed his jaw. His fangs glinted in the firelight. He finally looked up—and she realized his pupils were blown wide, gold nearly swallowed by black.
He was starving.
Not for food.
Not for blood.
For her.
"You're losing control," she said.
"I haven't touched you."
"That's not the same as being in control."
He stood suddenly.
Taller than the shadows.
More beast than man.
"Elara," he said again, firmer this time. "Sleep."
She rose too, barefoot, unafraid.
"You said the bond wouldn't consume us."
"I lied."
She stepped closer.
"You said you'd never use it against me."
"I said I'd try."
Another step.
Now they stood face to face.
She reached up.
Brushed a fingertip over his lips.
The moment she touched him—
A flare.
Like fire under her skin.
Kael hissed, stumbling back.
Elara jerked her hand away.
"What was that?"
He turned away from her.
"Nothing."
"That was something."
"Elara—"
She grabbed his arm.
"Tell me."
He exhaled.
Then whispered:
"A shackle."
She froze.
"What?"
Kael didn't face her.
"They made me take it after I shifted mid-trial," he said. "After I tore the throat out of a councilman's son."
Elara blinked.
"They—what did they do to you?"
Kael touched his lips.
Then showed her.
There—along his bottom lip, barely visible—were runes. Carved into flesh. Not ink. Not scar. Something between.
She reached toward them.
"Don't."
"Kael—"
"If you kiss me," he said, voice tight, "the mark activates."
"What does it do?"
"It reminds me."
"Of what?"
He met her gaze.
His voice was low.
"That I am not safe. Not even for you."
Elara stepped forward.
"You're not a weapon."
"I'm a loaded chamber."
"I've never been afraid of you."
"You should be."
"I kissed you before."
"You didn't mean it like this."
She paused.
Then reached up again.
Pressed her fingers to his jaw.
"I'm not afraid of what you are. I'm afraid you think you deserve to be leashed."
He stiffened.
"Don't talk like you understand."
"You think pain is punishment. I think it's a warning."
Kael grabbed her wrist—gently, but firm.
"I bite when I lose control."
"You heal me when you do."
He looked down at her hand.
Still faintly scarred from the fork at the feast.
His voice cracked.
"You want to kiss me now?"
"Yes."
"Even if it hurts?"
"Yes."
"Even if it hurts you?"
She hesitated.
That was all the answer he needed.
Kael pulled away.
Crossed the room.
Stared out the window.
"Then don't."
She stood behind him.
"You kissed my wound."
"That was a vow."
"You licked my blood."
"That was instinct."
"You looked at me like I was salvation."
Kael turned slowly.
Face unreadable.
"Then maybe you're worse than the shackle."
"How?"
"Because salvation only exists for the damned."
Elara walked to him.
Close now.
Dangerously.
She rose onto her toes.
And whispered:
"Then let's damn each other."
She kissed him.
The moment their lips met, the rune ignited.
A shock of pain surged between them.
Kael gasped against her mouth.
Elara bit back a cry.
His body tensed—fighting the magic, fighting himself.
But he didn't pull away.
Didn't retreat.
Until the heat became agony.
And he tore himself back.
Panting.
Elara staggered.
Hand pressed to her chest.
They stared at each other.
Breathless.
Branded.
Kael wiped blood from the corner of his lip.
"Elara," he said softly.
"Yes?"
"If you kiss me again…"
He stepped toward her.
Fangs bared.
Voice trembling.
"Decide first whether you want me to live through it."