Nicero nodded once. Then he turned to me. “Your magic stabilized a fading soul last night. Show me what you can do when the blood is still warm.”
My breath caught. “You want me to heal him?”
“Attempt it,” Nicero corrected. “Success is optional. Courage is not.”
I knelt beside the warrior, my heart pounding. Papa’s soul-binding had drained me more than I’d admitted. But this was different. This was flesh and bone, not spirit threads.
I placed my hands over the wound, drawing slowly on the Moon-root’s echo still embedded in my veins. Silver light flickered weakly between my fingers, hesitant, unstable.
The warrior hissed in pain.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
“Don’t be,” he growled through clenched teeth. “Just don’t fail.”
The magic surged — not from me, but through me. Blackfang’s territorial energy coiled around my silver threads, darkening them, strengthening them. It felt… heavier. More demanding.
The bleeding slowed.
The torn flesh knitted partially, sealing just enough to stop the immediate danger.
I collapsed back on my heels, dizzy, sweat beading at my temples.
The warrior exhaled shakily. “Damn… it worked.”
Not completely.
But enough.
A murmur rippled through the cavern — not applause, not praise, but acknowledgement.
Nicero studied me for a long moment. “You didn’t heal him the Silvermoon way.”
“I don’t think I remember how anymore,” I admitted.
“Good,” he said. “Because that way would have killed him.”
He turned and began walking toward the exit. “You start training tonight.”
---
That evening, I stood at the edge of the Moon-root chamber once more, watching as Blackfang elders etched a new circle around the ancient root. Unlike Silvermoon’s rituals, this one was brutal in its simplicity — no flowing patterns, only angular symbols carved deep enough to bleed.
Nicero approached me as the elders stepped back.
“The contract bond is not a mating rite,” he said. “It’s a declaration of allegiance. Once bound, your fate will intertwine with Blackfang territory. Your power will not be drawn from Kael’s Moon. It will come from this land.”
“And the cost?” I asked quietly.
He met my gaze. “If you betray Blackfang, the Moon-root itself will hunt you.”
My wolf stirred uneasily.
“And if Kael comes?” I pressed.
Nicero’s mouth curved faintly. “Then he will discover what it means to challenge a pack that doesn’t worship mercy.”