The Fire We Feed

Taryn's knees buckled beneath her, and she collapsed.

Lucien caught her before she hit the ground, his arms wrapping around her as she sagged against him. Her breath came in ragged gasps, pain radiating through her side with every movement.

"No, no, no," Lucien whispered, his voice thick with something Taryn didn't want to name—something that sounded too much like desperation. "Stay with me, Taryn. Just stay with me."

Taryn's vision swam, darkness closing in at the edges. Every breath felt like fire, and she knew—knew with a sick, terrifying certainty—that she wasn't going to make it.

Lucien's hands shook as he tried to stop the bleeding, but it was no use. Her life was slipping away, drop by drop.

She tried to speak, but the words tangled in her throat, drowned by the wave of pain crashing over her. Her vision darkened, the world slipping further away with every ragged breath.

"Taryn—look at me!" Lucien's grip tightened, shaking her gently, but her head lolled against his chest. "Stay with me, damn it!"

Panic clawed at the edges of his voice. He pressed his hand against the wound at her side, but blood poured freely between his fingers. Too much blood.

She was slipping away.

But he couldn't lose her.

"Damn it!" Lucien growled, his voice raw with desperation. "You're not dying. I won't let you."

There was only one way. The bond—the blood bond. It was dangerous. Permanent. But there was no other choice.

His gaze flicked to the relic still resting on the altar, its faint glow casting eerie shadows across the cave. But the relic wouldn't save her. There was only one way to keep her alive.

Lucien's jaw tightened as the decision settled over him, heavy and inescapable.

"Forgive me," Lucien whispered, cradling her against him as he bared his wrist.

He didn't hesitate.

With a swift, precise movement, he sliced his wrist open, blood welling from the wound. The scent of it—sharp, metallic—filled the air.

"Taryn," he murmured, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "You need to drink."

Her eyes fluttered open, glassy and unfocused.

"Stay with me, warrior," Lucien urged, pressing his bleeding wrist to her lips. "Please."

At first, she didn't move.

"Taryn! If you don't want to die.." Lucien's voice was a plea now, raw and desperate. "Please. Drink."

She didn't want to die.

Her lips parted, instinct taking over even as the world blurred around her. She drank—slow at first, then deeper, the magic igniting between them in a blaze of fire.

The bond snapped into place like a tidal wave crashing over them both. Magic surged through their veins, her wound burned as flesh knitted together, the pain sharp and brutal. But beneath the agony was something deeper—an overwhelming warmth that spread through every inch of her, chasing the darkness away.

Lucien's head fell back, a sharp gasp escaping his lips as the bond fused their souls, pulling him into her—into everything she was. He felt her pain, her rage, her fear—and beneath it all, her fierce, stubborn will to survive.

Taryn gasped as the bond surged, overwhelming her senses with a chaotic flood of emotions and memories. Her mind spun, tangled in thoughts that weren't hers, fears that didn't belong to her, and fragments of choices she didn't make. The magic coursed through her veins like wildfire, scorching everything in its path.

She tried to pull away—mentally, physically—but the bond held fast, dragging her deeper into Lucien's mind, deeper into him.

Panic swelled in her chest, her breath coming in ragged bursts. The lines between them blurred—his pain bled into hers, his heartbeat thrummed in time with hers, and she felt as though she were falling, with no ground beneath her.

Her hands clenched in the fabric of Lucien's shirt, fingers grasping for something solid, something real, as her mind swirled in confusion. She felt his guilt, sharp and bitter, like a wound that wouldn't heal. His desperation clawed at her, entwining with her own emotions until she couldn't tell where he ended and she began.

The weight of it was suffocating—too close, too much.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice shaking. "I can't—this is—"

But there was no stopping it. The bond thrummed between them, binding them tighter with every breath she took. The memories she'd glimpsed—the truth she had seen—clawed at her consciousness, dragging her back to the rouge hunter's base where it had all begun.

She could feel the exact moment Lucien's resolve shifted, as if the memory had been carved into her own mind. She saw it clearly now: the frustration in his silver eyes when she'd snapped at him after waking up, the way his smirk twisted with reluctant amusement when she refused to play along with his charm.

And then… she felt it. That quiet, unnoticed shift. The second Lucien realized—without truly admitting it to himself—that he would never go through with the mission. Not after falling for her.

It wasn't a grand revelation, but a slow, creeping certainty that settled over her: Lucien hadn't planned to go through with the mission almost from the start. Not after he fell for her. And though he hadn't known how to tell her, that truth had simmered just beneath every glance, every argument, every decision.

Taryn's breath hitched, confusion swirling with the anger and betrayal she still carried. It was too much—all of it was too much.

She tried to shove him away, her pulse hammering in her ears. "What did you do to me?" she rasped, her voice brittle with fear and fury.

Lucien's hands were gentle but firm as they held her, steadying her as the magic settled into place between them. "Taryn—"

"No." She shook her head, gasping for air as the bond buzzed beneath her skin. "This—this isn't right." Her voice cracked, raw with disbelief. "What is this?"

Lucien exhaled slowly, his gaze heavy with something she couldn't name. "It's the bond," he murmured, his voice quiet but steady. "It's done."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. The bond. The blood bond. Of course. She'd known it was possible—had heard the stories whispered in dark corners—but nothing could have prepared her for the reality of it. She could feel him—truly feel him—like a second heartbeat inside her chest. His emotions bled into hers, unfiltered and raw, leaving her exposed in a way that made her skin crawl.

Her heart slammed against her ribs, her breath shallow and sharp. The bond buzzed through her like lightning trapped beneath her skin, too big, too fast. Her muscles ached as though she had run for miles, but the heaviness was no longer just physical—it lived inside her, settling deep into her bones.

"This can't be real," she whispered, pressing a hand to her chest as if she could tear the bond out.

But it was real. 

Irrevocable. 

And no matter how much she fought it, it would never go away.

Lucien's hand brushed lightly against her arm, hesitant. "Taryn, I had no choice."

His touch burned—not from magic, but from the weight of everything unspoken between them. She wanted to shove him away, wanted to scream, but exhaustion weighed her down, heavy and relentless.

"I didn't mean for it to happen like this," Lucien murmured, his voice rough with regret. "I couldn't let you die."

Taryn squeezed her eyes shut, overwhelmed by the tide of emotions flooding through the bond—his fear, his guilt, his relief. And beneath it all, something deeper. Something dangerously close to hope.

The magic thrummed between them, deep and inescapable, a living pulse that felt too raw, too close. She fought against it—against the truth of what she was feeling—but the bond held her tight, binding them together in ways she couldn't undo.

And then it hit her like a wave crashing over jagged rocks: She hadn't wanted to die.

The thought wrapped itself around her mind, sharp and undeniable. All this time—through every fight, every argument—she'd told herself she could live without him, that she didn't need anyone. But when the moment had come, when life had slipped through her fingers like sand, she had reached for him. And she had chosen to live, even if it meant binding herself to Lucien.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't what she'd planned. But it was the truth.

Taryn let out a shuddering breath, her fingers curling weakly into the fabric of Lucien's shirt. The truth burned beneath her skin—uncomfortable but unyielding. She had wanted to live, and now there was no undoing it. The magic thrummed between them, binding tighter with every breath she took. It was overwhelming—too much, too fast—but she didn't have the strength to fight it anymore.

Lucien's arm snaked steady around her waist, his breath warm against her temple. He said nothing—he didn't need to. The bond pulsed between them, a silent promise neither of them could take back.

Taryn swallowed hard, her voice barely more than a whisper. "I didn't want to die."

Lucien stilled, his grip tightening, the bond echoing her words back to her. "I know," he murmured softly, as if he'd been waiting for her to admit it.

It was the only thing he could say, and somehow, it was enough.

Her body gave out completely, and she sagged against him, exhaustion dragging her under. The bond buzzed beneath her skin, weaving them tighter together with every beat of their hearts. It was terrifying—and yet, comforting. She didn't know how to name the feeling, but it left her with the strange certainty that, no matter what came next, she wouldn't be facing it alone.

Lucien shifted slightly, adjusting her weight as he held her closer. "I've got you," he whispered, his voice low and steady, as though the words themselves were enough to hold her together.

Taryn let her head rest against his chest, her breath slowing. The bond hummed softly, steady and inescapable—a second heartbeat wrapped around her own. She didn't know what the future would bring or where this bond would take them.

But for the first time, she wasn't sure she wanted to fight it.