Chapter 3: The Warmth and the Wound

A heavy, awkward silence descended upon the cabin after Derrick left, thick enough to choke on. The air still crackled with the residual energy of the bond, a phantom limb I could both feel and desperately wished to sever. Kaelus had not looked at me since his Beta’s departure. He stood by the fireplace, his back rigid, every line of his body screaming tension. The brief moment of shared shock was over, replaced by the cold, hard reality of our situation.

He had finally, clumsily, removed the cursed arrowhead and applied a pungent herbal poultice. The physical pain had subsided to a dull, manageable throb, thanks to his rough but effective ministrations. But the other pain, the one born from the silvery-gold light that had stitched our souls together, was a fresh, gaping wound.

“What… what was that?” My voice was barely a whisper, hoarse from pain and the sheer emotional upheaval.

He didn’t turn around. “A problem,” he bit out, the word sharp and final. “A complication I don’t need.”

His dismissal was like a slap. The intimacy of the bond’s activation warred with the brutal reminder of who we were. A vampire. A wolf. Nothing more.

“You think I needthis?” I retorted, pushing myself up on my elbows, ignoring the stab of pain in my shoulder. “To be bound to you? It’s a curse!”

Finally, he turned. The conflict I’d seen earlier was gone, buried beneath a layer of ice. The Alpha was back in full control. “Then we are in agreement, leech. It changes nothing. The bond is an… unfortunate side effect. Once you are healed, we will find a way to sever it.”

Sever it.The words should have brought relief. Instead, a cold, inexplicable dread coiled in my stomach. My vampire heart gave a painful lurch that had nothing to do with my injury. It’s the bond,I told myself fiercely. It’s playing tricks on me.

The hours dragged by. He stayed on the far side of the cabin, tending to the fire, sharpening his claws on a whetstone—the rhythmic, grating sound a constant reminder of his presence and his nature. I pretended to sleep, watching him through slitted eyes. His broad shoulders were slumped, not with defeat, but with the weight of a burden he hadn’t asked for. I saw him run a hand through his silver hair, a gesture of frustration so human it was disarming.

Don’t,my mind warned. Don’t look for the man behind the Alpha. The man is the danger.

As night deepened, a deep, pervasive chill set in. It was more than the cool mountain air; it was a cold that seeped from my bones, a side effect of blood loss and the strange energy drain of the nascent bond. Despite my best efforts, a shiver wracked my body. I clenched my teeth, determined not to show weakness.

I heard him move. I kept my eyes closed, feigning sleep, every sense on high alert. His footsteps were quiet on the wooden floor. He stopped beside the cot. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, a wolf’s natural furnace. It was a siren’s call to my frozen blood.

Then, something soft and heavy settled over me. A thick wolf-fur blanket. Its warmth was immediate and utterly intoxicating. And it smelled overwhelmingly of him—of pine, frost, and wild, untamed power. A low, traitorous sound, almost a purr, threatened to escape my throat. I stifled it, my body tensing.

He didn’t leave. He stood there for a long moment. Then, to my utter horror, I felt the cot dip as he sat on the edge, his back to me. He didn’t touch me, but his proximity was a brand. The space between us hummed with the cursed bond, amplifying every sensation.

The shivering stopped. The cold receded, replaced by a dangerous, deceptive comfort. In my half-asleep, weakened state, the line between enemy and protector blurred. The warmth was all that mattered. For a few fleeting moments, wrapped in his scent and his unspoken, grudging care, I felt… safe. The irony was so profound it was almost laughable.

Dawn’s first light was beginning to filter through the window when I drifted into a true, exhausted sleep.

I awoke to the sound of the cabin door closing. The space beside me on the cot was empty, the indent of his body already cold. The fur blanket was still tucked tightly around me. For a second, I felt a pang of loss so sharp it stole my breath.

Then, reality crashed down.

Kaelus was by the door, his arms crossed, his expression once again a mask of cold indifference. “The fever has broken. You’ll live.” He gestured to a plate of dried meat and a cup of water on the table. “Eat. Regain your strength. We need to move soon.”

The warmth of the night felt like a foolish dream. The kindness—if it could be called that—was gone, replaced by the pragmatic tone of a jailer.

I pushed the blanket away as if it were poisoned, the luxurious fur now feeling like a trap. “Why the sudden concern, Alpha? Afraid your precious ‘debt’ will go unpaid if I wither away?”

His grey eyes flickered, a hint of the previous night’s frustration returning. “Last night was a miscalculation,” he said, his voice low and hard. “A moment of weakness brought on by this… thingbetween us. Don’t read into it.” He turned to leave, pausing at the door. “And don’t get used to the warmth, vampire. It’s the last you’ll get from me.”

The door shut behind him, leaving me alone in the silent cabin. The cold returned, sharper than before, settling deep into the new, hollow space the bond had carved inside me. He had drawn a line. Last night’s proximity was a mistake, a weakness. And I, the vampire princess, had almost fallen for it. The wound on my shoulder was nothing compared to the fresh sting of his words. The bond might have forced us together, but it seemed it couldn’t force us to be anything but what we were: enemies, cursed by fate to share a space, yet forever divided by a chasm of blood and history.