Nathan and Luca practically carry me back to my room in the packhouse, their hands steady on my waist as my legs threaten to give out.
The triple bond pulses through me with every heartbeat, overwhelming in its intensity. Through the newest connection, I feel Ryder's emotions—raw shock, disbelief, and desperate hope tangled together in chaos.
"Easy," Luca murmurs as we reach my door. "You're shaking."
"I can feel him," I whisper, pressing my hand to my chest where the bond to Ryder burns brightest. "He's so confused. He has no idea what just happened."
Nathan guides me to sit on the bed while Luca pours water from the pitcher on my nightstand. The marks on my skin have faded to a soft glow, but I can still see them when I look—three patterns interweaving in impossible harmony.
"This is insane," Nathan says, pacing by the window. "Three mate bonds. How do we even—"
A sharp knock interrupts him. My grandfather enters without waiting for permission. His face is grave, all celebration from the ceremony gone.
"You need to move immediately," he announces, her weathered face tight with concern. "The bond activation without preparation—King Ryder must be in considerable distress."
I try to push comfort through our connection, imagining warm arms around him, whispering that I'm coming, that everything will be okay. But the bond is too new, too raw. I can't tell if he feels anything beyond his own emotional turmoil.
"There's more," grandfather adds urgently. "The incomplete nature of your triple bond is creating a dangerous imbalance."
Nathan stops pacing. "What do you mean, dangerous?"
"Three bonds trying to form a unified whole, none of then complete while two remain unsealed?" He shakes his head. "The magical strain is already building. You can feel it, can't you?"
She's right. There's a pulling sensation beneath my skin, like invisible threads being stretched in different directions.
"All three bonds must be fully sealed through the mating ceremony," my grandfather explains. "The longer you wait, the more unstable the magic becomes."
"We leave within the hour," Nathan declares, shifting into commander mode. "Push hard, minimal stops. Four days in wolf form."
Elder Mara nods. "You have perhaps a week before critical. But sooner is safer."
We barely gather supplies before moving south. I feel Ryder constantly—his confusion growing worse. He's pacing, probably in his study, trying to understand. Longing hits me so hard I stumble.
I'm coming, I push through our bond. Hold on. I'm coming home.
We ride until exhaustion forces camp. The bond imbalance worsens—constant ache making me restless.
"He must think he's losing his mind," Nathan mutters, poking the fire harder than necessary.
"Probably researching every text in the royal library," I manage weakly. "You know how he gets."
Luca shifts beside me. "Can I admit something?"
We wait.
"I'm actually... relieved." He runs fingers through his hair nervously. "Watching you love him these months, knowing he wasn't your mate—I felt guilty. Like you were betraying fate wanting someone the Goddess hadn't chosen."
"Luca—"
"Let me finish. But she did choose him. Just like she chose Nathan and me. All three meant for you, all three for me. No conflict, no betrayal. Just destiny we didn't understand."
I thread our fingers together. "The Goddess knew all along."
"Of course she did," he says, kissing my hand.
Nathan stares into flames before speaking thoughtfully. "Watching Ryder with you these months—how he looks at you, how he changes when you enter... If I'm honest, he loves you exactly like Luca and I do. Complete, consuming love that rewrites everything."
"Maybe that was the sign," Luca suggests. "That depth of feeling—maybe that's what true bonds do, recognized by magic or not."
"The magic was always there," I realize. "Just waiting to manifest."
We break camp before dawn, pushing harder than before. The bond imbalance is becoming genuinely uncomfortable now—a constant pull that makes my wolf whine. Through it all, I feel Ryder's emotional turmoil. He's stopped pacing at least, but now there's a different quality to his feelings—determination mixed with fear.
Please don't be afraid, I try to send to him. This is real. This is right. I'm coming to explain everything.
The journey south blurs together—endless miles of forest and plains, brief stops for water, the constant ache of incomplete bonds pulling at my soul.
"Two more days," Nathan says during our second night's rest. "We're making good time."
"Not good enough," I murmur, pressing my hand to my chest where all three bonds pulse with uneven rhythm. "It's getting worse. I can feel them trying to synchronize but they can't, not like this."
Luca pulls me against his side, his warmth a comfort. "We'll make it. The Goddess wouldn't give us this gift just to let it destroy us."
"The Goddess has a strange sense of timing," Nathan observes dryly, but his hand finds mine, squeezing gently.
On the second night, we're only two days from the capital when something shifts in the air.
The wind dies suddenly, unnaturally. Nathan freezes mid-step, his hand going to his sword. Luca's shoulders tense as he scans the treeline.
"Do you feel that?" I whisper, though there's nothing specific to point to—just a wrongness that makes every hair stand on end.
"We're being watched," Nathan says, voice barely audible. His eyes track something I can't see in the shadows.
A branch snaps to our left. Then silence—the kind that feels alive, breathing, waiting. No bird calls. No insects. Even the leaves have stopped rustling.
"Stay close," Luca orders, moving to flank my other side. "Whatever this is, it's been following us."
"The forest has been too quiet for the last hour," Nathan explains, hand never leaving his weapon. "I thought it was just wildlife sensing predators, but this is deliberate."
Another stick cracks behind us. We spin as one, but there's nothing—just shadows and the growing certainty that we're walking into something we don't understand.
Through the bond, I feel Ryder's sudden unease. He senses my fear from this distance, though he has no context for it.
"Should we run?" I ask, though every instinct says whatever hunts us wants us to panic.
"No," Nathan says grimly. "We hold formation and keep moving. Whatever this is chose this spot deliberately."
The bushes rustle, but when Luca investigates, he finds nothing. Just disturbed leaves and that persistent feeling of being hunted by something that shouldn't exist.
"Magic," I breathe, understanding hitting like ice water. "That's why we can't track it properly."
Nathan and Luca exchange grim looks. If this is magical, we're at a severe disadvantage. Werewolves are creatures of tooth and claw. Magic is something else entirely.
"Keep walking," Nathan commands. "Stay together. Whatever happens—"
The words die as every shadow deepens, every tree leans closer. The feeling of being stalked intensifies until I can barely breathe.
Something is coming. Something that's been tracking us, waiting for the perfect moment.
We're two days from help, with incomplete bonds making us vulnerable in ways we're only beginning to understand.
The attack hasn't come yet, but we know it's imminent. We're being circled, assessed, savored.
We're being hunted, and our hunter is done being patient.