Chapter 45
Andrik POV-
The forest is too quiet.
I’ve been tracking for hours, and I’ve found nothing. No footprints. No snapped twigs. No scent trails that don’t belong to the local fauna.
It’s been days since this shadow-man made himself known—the one who’s been circling Lumi like a wolf stalking a wounded fawn.
Days of silence.
Days of nothing.
And that silence terrifies me more than his presence ever did. Predators don't go quiet unless they're preparing to strike.
I kneel beside a cluster of birch trees, my claws raking through the drift. The ground is undisturbed. Too clean—he should have left something. A trace. A mark. But there’s nothing here but the forest breathing softly around me. Just me, alone, while Lumi waits in the cabin.
Alone.
Guilt claws at my chest sharper than any wound. I shouldn’t have left her. I told myself I was protecting her... securing our future, but what if I was just giving him exactly what he wanted?
I stand abruptly, shaking the frost from my fur. I need to get back. Now.
I turn toward the cabin, and that's when the world snaps.
It isn’t a sound. It’s a pull. A tug on the thread of the bond so violent it feels like a hook is yanking me forward. I stop mid-step, one hand bracing against a trunk.
Lumi?
I warded the cabin. I left Saevael to keep her inside. She has to be safe. Right?
The pull comes again, stronger this time, and then it twists.
Pain lances through my heart, sharp and harrowing, like something vital has been severed. I gasp, stumbling forward, my claws digging into the bark.
The bond... it’s stretching... being pulled taut until it’s ready to snap.
“No—”
I push off the tree and run.
My hooves pound through the snow, tearing up the loam beneath the ice. Branches whip past my face, snagging on my antlers, but I don’t slow down. All I feel is our connection fraying.
Lumi. Just hold on for me, baby. Don’t let go.
I have to get back to her. I have to—
The world turns upside down.
I crash into a tree, hard enough to crack the timber, but the pain is muffled. My legs feel heavy—leaden, like the snow has turned into cement. I force myself forward, one step, than another.
Move. MOVE.
But my body is no longer mine.
The bond pulses weakly again, flickering, like a candle in a gale. My knees buckle, and I hit the forest floor, my breath slows to a crawl.
“Varkh. Thraev’ra, varkh. Ael’kai ves lumina’ka. Kael’thurin ves thal?n, nai—velorin ves sael?n ael’venrak kai’thraem.” (No. Please, no. Don’t take her from me. I have to return to my little light. Gods, have mercy. Don’t—return my mate only to steal her into the dark.)
Something’s pulling me under. Something invisible and suffocating. My vision darkens at the edges, the crimson of the blood moon bleeding into the black.
Lumi.
I try to stand, but my muscles seize, locking into place. My heartbeat slows—thump... thump... heavy and sluggish as if my blood has been replaced by stone.
Get up. GET UP.
I can’t.
“No—no, no, please—”
The bond flickers one last time, and through the haze, I feel her. Her fear. Her confusion. She’s alone and something is coming for her, and I can’t—
I’m bound to the dirt.
“LUMI!”
The scream rips from my throat, a raw howl that shatters the silence of the woods. I don’t know if she hears it, or if it dies here with me.
Darkness rushes in, swallowing me whole. My last thought, before everything goes black:
I failed her.
Then—nothingness.
I’m not unconscious. I am trapped inside my own body, sinking deeper into a vast, icy prison. I can’t move, or speak. I can’t even open my eyes to see the red moon.
But I can feel.
The bond is still whispering, and through it, I feel a presence near her. Another Rhavari?
I try to fight. I try to claw my way back to the surface of my skin, but this spell holds me down like steel chains.
In the darkest corner of my mind, I feel the snap. The bond is no longer stretching... it’s being rewritten.
Lumi POV-
The forest swallows me whole.
Branches claw at my face like skeletal fingers trying to hold me back. The cold bites through the thin coat I threw on, but I’m numb to it. The only thing I can feel is the echo of his scream still ringing in my ears.
“ANDRIK!” I scream into the dark, my voice cracking. “Where are you?”
The only thing that answers is the sibilant whisper of wind through the birches and the crunch of snow beneath my boots.
I run deeper, stumbling over hidden roots, my lungs burning with the intake of frozen air.
I’m coming. I’m coming.
And then I see him.
He’s standing with his head bowed at the edge of a clearing. His white fur is matted, streaked with something shiny and dark. His antlers catch the eerie glow of the moon.
Relief crashes through me.
Thank God. Thank God. Thank God.
“Andrik!”
He turns.
His familiar ice-blue eyes find mine, and for a split second, something flickers behind them. Surprise? Guilt? Then it’s gone, smoothed over by his usual warmth.
“Lumi,” His voice is a rough, low rumble. “Gods, Lumi—you shouldn’t have come.”
I sway forward, reaching for him with shaking hands. “I heard you scream. I thought—are you hurt? What happened?”
He catches my wrist gently, steadying me.
“I’m alright. Just—” He glances over his shoulder into the blackness of the woods. “It’s not safe. He’s been circling the cabin, testing the wards. I tracked him all day. We need to get you somewhere secure.”
The cabin—”
“No.” His grip tightens slightly. “The cabin is compromised.”
My stomach drops. “Then where—”
“I was planning on surprising you later, once the danger had passed.” He hesitates, his jaw tightens. “I have a place nearby.
I blink up at him, confused. “A place?”
He nods. “I didn’t want to tell you until it was ready. I wanted you to have somewhere that felt like home. Not just my cabin. Somewhere that was yours.”
My chest squeezes.
“Andrik—”
“Please,” he murmurs. “Let me get you there. Let me know you’re safe so I can end this.”
“Okay,” I whisper.
Relief floods his features, and he pulls me closer, wrapping one arm around my shoulders.
“Stay close to me,” he murmurs against my hair. “Don’t let go.”
We walk for what feels like miles, my side pressed against his. The cottage appears through the trees—it’s a vision—like something off a Christmas card.
It’s small, nestled in a clearing surrounded by birch and snowdrops. Warm amber light spills from the windows, and the scent of woodsmoke fills the air.
“You did this?” I breathe, my heart aching.
“For you.” His voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it. “So you wouldn’t feel so far from everything you lost.”
He leads me inside, and my breath hitches. The bed is piled with soft linens, dried petals scattered across the pillows. Candles flicker on every surface, and on the table sits the exact brand of my favorite honey.
It’s perfect. It’s exactly what I would have wanted.
“I’ve been working on it for days,” he says, stepping into my space, his hand cupping my cheek. “Every time you slept, I was here, building this. I wanted you to know that I see you. That I know you.”
The words are right. They’re the words I’ve been dying to hear. But as he leans down, pressing his forehead to mine, something feels off.
“Andrik?” I whisper. “Are you sure you’re alright?”
“I’m fine.” His thumb brushes across my cheek. “Just tired. It’s been a long day. But we’re safe now. You’re safe.”
“Rest,” he murmurs. “I’ll keep watch. And tomorrow, I’ll finish this. I promise, Sael?n.”
I want to believe him.
I do believe him.
But something in my chest is screaming.