The word hangs between us, no need for elaboration.
Her lips press into a thin line. “He’s not here now.”
“I know.” I scan the treeline, my muscles wound tight. “But he was. He wanted me to know it.”
Mary steps closer, crossing her arms against the cold, her eyes narrowing. “The Blood Moon’s coming in two nights. He’s not going to wait until you’re at full strength. He’s going to hit when you’re already fighting yourself.”
She’s right. The Blood Moon never sits easy in my bones—it stirs the beast in ways I can’t control, burns through muscle and mind like a fever that wants to tear something apart just to feel the relief. Every year it gets worse. Every year I fight harder to keep my grip.
This year, I’ll be fighting with Tessa in the house.
I sheath the smaller blade and keep the heavier one in my grip, stepping down into the frost-slick grass. The wind bringsRoman’s scent again—fainter now, but it still cuts like a knife through the pine and earth. I pace the perimeter, tracing the edges of where he’s been. He didn’t breach the wards. Not yet. But the fact that he got close enough to touch the edge of them without triggering an alarm means one thing: he’s been studying them. Studyingus.
Mary follows me in silence until I stop at the far edge of the property. The moonlight turns the frost to silver fire underfoot, and I can almost see the outline of where Roman stood—a phantom of him leaning on a tree, smirking like he’s already three moves ahead.
I tighten my grip on the sword. “He’s testing me.”
Mary exhales slowly, her breath clouding in the cold. “Then maybe it’s time you stop testing yourself.”
I glance at her. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
She doesn’t look away. “You marked her. You’ve already tied her to you in every way that makes sense to us. But you’re holding back from finishing it. From bonding her fully.”
“Because once I do, there’s no undoing it,” I say, my voice sharp, low. “And if Roman—or anyone—comes for her after that, they’re not just coming for someone under my protection, they’re coming for half my soul.”
“That’s exactly why youshoulddo it,” she snaps back, stepping into my space like she’s trying to goad me. “Because if he’s coming, and we both know he is, then she needs more than the illusion of safety. She needs every ounce of strength you can give her. And that bond? It’s not just for you. It will make her stronger too. Faster. Harder to kill.”
Her words land, but I hold my ground. “And it will make her a beacon to anyone who can sense it. Stronger than a scenting. They’ll smell it on her like blood in the water.”
Mary’s jaw tightens, but there’s something else in her eyes now—something I haven’t seen in her in years. Not just fear. Not just anger.Concern.
“I’ve seen how you look at her, Darius,” she says, her voice softening, the edge blunted but still present. “And I’ve seen how she looks at you. You think I don’t know what that means? You think I haven’t watched enough bonds form to recognize one before it happens? You’ve already decided she’s yours. The bond is just… the truth catching up.”
I look back toward the trees, letting the cold sink in, letting her words settle under my skin.
The wind shifts again, carrying Roman’s scent away, but it leaves the echo of it behind, ghosting through my head like a promise. I picture his face: the narrow smile, the eyes that never match the words, the way he can stand perfectly still and still make you feel like you’re being hunted.
I think of Tessa upstairs, probably curled in bed, breathing in my scent the way I’ve been breathing hers. And I know Mary’s right in one way: if he comes for her, I’ll fight like she’s already mine. Bond or no bond.
But bonding… that’s not a step you take because you’re scared. It’s a step you take because you’re certain you can hold it until the end of everything.
And I’m not sure the end isn’t closer than we think.
I turn back toward the house, the weight of the sword still solid in my hand. Mary doesn’t follow right away, but when she does, she matches my pace without a word.
At the back steps, she catches my arm. “Don’t wait too long, Darius. Roman’s never been patient.”
I don’t answer her.
Because she’s right. And because the Blood Moon’s already rising in my veins, hot and restless, and I can feel the days slipping through my fingers like sand.
21
TESSA
The first thing I notice is the light: cold, white beams cutting through the dark like searchlights, sweeping across the front of the house in long, slow arcs. Then comes the sound. Multiple engines idling, a low growl under the wind, too steady to be hunters, too organized to be anything but trouble.
I pull back from the window, my breath shallow, heart thudding in a way that feels more like warning than panic.
