By twilight, the preparations were complete.
Kaelen decided to keep the departure strictly secret, ordering only his most trusted commander to oversee the fortress in his absence because telling the pack elders that the Alpha was leaving the safety of the Citadel while bound by a fatal curse would invite chaos and challenge to his throne.
In the private quarters, Soren was dressing up in his black linen tunic, and was preparing to leave and after her was done wearing, he made sure his leather belt were tight.
He then secured his pouch of silver needles on his right hip, his concealed iron dagger on his left, and packed a small leather bag with essential alchemy vials and chalk, almost ready to leave.
Soon after the door swung open, and Kaelen walked in.
He was clad in full dark-leather war armor, with a big sword strapped to his back along with twin hunting daggers on his thighs.
He was also prepared and he looked every bit like the feared predator the continent knew him to be.
In his hands, Kaelen carried a heavy, dark-blue velvet cloak lined with thick white fur.
“Put this on,” Kaelen said, throwing the cloak over Soren’s shoulders before Soren could protest.
“The mountain pass is freezing at night.
I don’t need you fainting from hypothermia before we even reach the caverns.”
Soren blinked, caught off guard by the weight and warmth of the garment.
Kaelen stepped closer, his large fingers reaching out to fasten the silver button at Soren’s throat as of he were to slow.
His hands were gentle, surprisingly delicate for a man who could snap a person’s neck with a flick of his wrist.
Soren stood completely still, his breath catching in his throat as Kaelen’s knuckles brushed against the sensitive skin of his neck.
The proximity made Soren’s heart beat wildly against his ribs, a sensation he aggressively blamed on the bond.
“I can tie my own cloak, Alpha,” Soren muttered, pulling back half an inch.
Kaelen finished securing the clasp, his golden eyes glinting with quiet amusement.
“You could.
But you were taking too long.” He patted Soren’s hair lightly, his hand lingering for a second too long before he turned toward the door.
“Let’s go.
The horses are waiting at the postern gate.” He spoke to the glaring blonde haired but he didn’t mind as he walked away, he was already used to his scowl.
Outside the rear gates of the kael end pack Citadel, the cold mountain wind howled across the stone courtyard.
And Two massive black warhorses stood waiting, held by a silent stable hand.
The beasts were enormous, bred for war, with thick muscles and dark, intelligent eyes.
Soren walked up to the second horse, reaching for the reins.
“What are you doing?” Kaelen asked, stepping up beside him.
“Getting on my horse,” Soren said, raising an eyebrow.
Kaelen pulled lightly on the transparent red chain connecting their wrists.
The length stretched taut at three feet.
“And how do you plan on riding two separate warhorses when we can’t be more than three feet apart without getting set on fire?”
Soren froze he had forgotten about the curse.
He looked at the chain, then looked at the two horses, and then looked back at Kaelen.
His face instantly flushed dark red, when he imagined riding with him.
“No,” Soren said firmly.
“We don’t have a choice, Soren,” Kaelen said calmly, stepping toward the larger of the two black horses.
“Unless you want to ride in my lap on a pony, you’re riding on my stallion with me.”
“I am not sitting in front of you on a horse for five hours!” Soren snapped, his voice sharp with pure indignation.
“That is completely ridiculous!”
“It’s practical,” Kaelen corrected smoothly.
He swung himself up into the heavy leather saddle with effortless grace, taking the reins in his left hand.
He looked down at Soren, extending his broad right hand.
“Get up, little spell-cutter.
We’re losing daylight.”
Soren glared at the Alpha, his jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.
He hated that Kaelen was right.
The three-foot limit left them zero room for maneuverability on horseback.
With a loud, dramatic huff, Soren grabbed Kaelen’s hand.
But instead of pulling him up from his hands Kaelen pulled him up held his waist firmly and with a single hand he effortlessly, hoisted Soren into the saddle right in front of him.
The physical closeness was immediate and overwhelming.
Soren was forced to sit between Kaelen’s thighs, his back pressed against Kaelen’s broad, armored chest.
Kaelen reached forward with both arms to gather the leather reins, effectively wrapping Soren in a complete, solid embrace.
“Touch me unnecessarily and I will drop a blinding powder in your eyes, Kaelen” Soren warned under his breath, trying to lean as far forward as the saddle allowed.
Kaelen chuckled darkly, his hot breath fanning across the back of Soren’s neck and sending a traitorous wave of goosebumps down Soren’s arms.
“Hold on tight, sweetheart.
Lord knows I wouldn’t want you slipping off.”
Kaelen dug his boots into the horse’s flanks.
The massive stallion burst forward into a fast, powerful gallop, charging out of the dark stone archway and down the winding, snow-covered mountain path.
The five-hour ride was an absolute test of Soren’s sanity.
The cold night air whipped past them, biting at Soren’s face, but behind him, Kaelen was a furnace of pure heat.
goodness every time the horse jumped over a rough patch of terrain or navigated a sharp bend, Soren was jostled back against Kaelen’s chest.
The Alpha’s strong arms held him steady, keeping him secure in the saddle without a single slip.
Soren tried to keep his mind focused on the spell components and the research, but every sway of the horse made him hyper-aware of Kaelen’s body—the solid press of his chest, the rhythmic thud of his heart, and the faint scent of cedar and coupled with his own scent radiated off his skin.
The crimson chain between their wrists lay quietly over the horse’s mane, glowing with a steady, peaceful pulse.
As midnight approached, the sharp, snowy mountain peaks began to give way to dense, dark forests and jagged, rocky valleys.
The air grew damp and heavy, thick with the smell of wet earth and mountains.
Kaelen pulled the stallion to a slow, quiet walk.
“We’re entering neutral territory,” Kaelen whispered, his voice dropping into a serious, alert tone.
He let go of the left rein with one hand, his fingers resting casually on the hilt of his broadsword.
“Keep your eyes open.
The rogues in these woods don’t care about pack laws.”
Soren reached into his sleeve, letting a silver needle slide smoothly into his fingers.
“Let them try.” You are reading on g.com, the official source.
They navigated through a thick veil of low-hanging fog, then arrive into a jagged rocky clearing at the base of a massive stone cliff.
Deep inside the cliffside sat a wide, pitch-black cave entrance, yawning open like the mouth of a sleeping beast, and damp mist spilled out of the cave, carrying the faint, sweet scent of blooming flora.
“The Sunken Caverns,” Soren murmured, peering into the gloom.
“The lotus is inside.”
Kaelen dismounted first, swinging his leg over the saddle and reaching up to steady Soren as he climbed down.
The moment Soren’s boots hit the damp earth, he pulled against his tunic, adjusting his cloak.
Suddenly, the horse nickered nervously, tossing its head and backing away.
Kaelen stopped dead in his tracks, his golden eyes narrowing as he scanned the misty tree surrounding the meadow.
His sharp wolf ears twitched once, twice.
Snap.
The sound of a dry twig breaking echoed through the quiet night air.
Slowly, step by step, dark shadows began to emerge from the fog.
Half a dozen tall, rugged figures stepped into the clearing, clad in mismatched leather armor and carrying heavy iron axes and curved hunting blades.
Their eyes glowed with an unnatural, hungry green light.
Rogue wolves.
A tall man with a scarred face and a jagged sneer stepped forward, spinning a heavy dagger in his hand.
“Well, well, well,” the rogue leader drawled, his voice thick and raspy.
“What do we have here?
A high-and-mighty Blackthorn warrior wandering into our woods in the middle of the night?
And he brought a pretty little prize with him.” They weren’t aware that Kaelen was not just any warrior but the king himself.
Soren’s eyes narrowed into dangerous slits.
He stepped slightly to the side, his silver needle gleamed under the moonlight.
“I am not anyone’s prize, you filthy stray.”
Kaelen stepped smoothly in front of Soren, his broad shoulders blocking the rogue leader’s view while he immediately He drew his big sword in a slow, terrifying metallic hiss that echoed off the stone cliff.
“You have five seconds to turn around and walk away,” Kaelen said, his voice dropping into an icy, alpha rumble that made the ground beneath their boots tremble.
“Or I will paint these rocks with your blood.”
The rogue leader laughed, raising his axe.
“Get them!”
Only one horse?!
Oh, the sheer, tragic agony of being forced into forced proximity by a literal glowing curse.
(|~|)
Kaelen really thought he was being smooth, but Soren is ready to drop blinding powder in his eyes at any given second (though we all know that heart rate wasn’t just from the magic bond, Soren, stop lying to yourself!) hehe!
(^~^) The forced embrace on horseback was all fun and games until the rogue wolves decided to crash the party.
They really picked the absolute worst night to mess with an Alpha and a very annoyed spell-cutter.
What do you guys think?
Will Soren get to test out his silver needles, or is Kaelen about to wipe the floor with these stray wolves?
Let me know your thoughts in the comments!
See you in the next chapter soon!!