10. A Growing Bond

CHAPTER 10

A GROWING BOND

T he forest around them feels like it's watching.

Every twisted branch, every shadow leans closer, as if straining to catch the whispered secrets carried on the thick, oppressive air. Brynn moves silently, muscles tense, her gaze fixed on the path ahead. She can feel Luca's presence beside her, close enough that his every breath, every quiet step seems to resonate against her senses.

He stays with her, always just a step behind, always watching, his presence a soft, steady weight that somehow manages to keep the worst of the darkness at bay. It makes something inside her twist and tighten, some fragile, aching thing she doesn't have a name for.

It's not new—this strange warmth, this slow, creeping sense of something unfurling between them—but ever since she let herself lean on him, it's grown stronger.

"Brynn," Luca says softly, breaking the silence.

She flinches, shoulders tensing instinctively, but he doesn't move, doesn't press. Just waits, quiet and patient, until she finally slows to a reluctant halt.

"What is it?" she mutters, turning just enough to glance at him.

"I thought we could… talk," he suggests, his voice light but careful, as if testing the weight of each word. "Might as well try to make this journey… pleasant?"

"Pleasant," she repeats flatly, raising an eyebrow. "This—" She gestures to the dark, twisted forest around them, the path choked with vines and thorn-covered roots. "This is your idea of pleasant?"

His mouth quirks up, a small, wry smile that catches her off-guard. The expression softens his face, making his blue eyes brighten and his dark blonde hair catch the dim light filtering through the trees. He shouldn't look so handsome standing in the middle of this cursed place, but somehow, he does. It sends a strange flutter through her chest.

"No, not exactly," he admits. "But I figured we could at least try to make it a little less miserable."

Brynn huffs, a reluctant smirk tugging at her lips. "And how exactly do you plan on doing that?"

"Well…" He glances away, his expression thoughtful. "Why don't I tell you something surprising?"

Surprising? She narrows her eyes, studying him carefully. Luca always seems so… steady. So calm. Like nothing can shake that quiet, unyielding determination of his. The idea of him doing anything surprising is almost laughable.

"Go on, then," she says dryly, folding her arms. "Surprise me."

His smile softens, and he looks down, almost shyly. "When I was a child," he begins slowly, his voice low and a little wistful, "I used to sleep with books in my bed."

Brynn blinks, caught off-guard. "Books?"

"Mhm." He glances up at her, a small, self-deprecating smile tugging at his lips. "I'd pile them up around me, sometimes four or five at a time, just to keep me company."

Brynn stares at him, incredulous. "You slept with books?"

"Yes." He laughs softly, shaking his head. "I know. It sounds ridiculous. But… I was alone a lot as a child. My father was always off on some adventure, and there wasn't anyone else around. So I started sneaking books into my bed at night—stories, histories, anything I could find. They were… comforting." His gaze turns distant, almost nostalgic. "I guess, in a way, they were my friends."

Brynn's chest grows tight, something small and delicate stirring inside her. She's never thought about Luca's past before—never wondered what kind of childhood he had. He's always so… put together. So strong, even without any claws or teeth to fight with.

But now, looking at him, she can see it—the lonely little boy who surrounded himself with books just to keep the emptiness at bay.

"That's not ridiculous," she says quietly, surprising even herself. "That's… sweet."

"Sweet?" He laughs again, but there's a hint of something raw and unguarded in the sound. "I think the word you're looking for is pathetic."

"No," she murmurs, shaking her head. "It's… I get it. I get wanting something to hold onto." She swallows, looking away. "Even if it's just… paper and ink."

The silence stretches between them, warm and fragile. Then Luca tilts his head, studying her with that soft, thoughtful gaze that always makes her want to squirm. There's something so open, so genuine in the way he looks at her—like he's trying to see beyond every wall, every scar. It makes her pulse quicken, her breath catch, and for a fleeting moment, she's all too aware of just how close he is. Too close.

Close enough to feel the warmth of his presence.

Close enough to want…

"What about you?" he asks softly. "Did you have… something like that?"

Brynn's throat tightens. She opens her mouth to snap at him, to shut him out like she always does. But the words stick, tangled in her chest, and for a long, breathless moment, she just stands there, staring down at the ground.

"I had a… a toy," she whispers finally, the confession slipping out before she can stop it. "A little wooden wolf."

Luca's eyes widen, the surprise genuine. "A wolf?"

She nods slowly, gaze distant. "My mother gave it to me. She said it was meant to protect me, to keep me safe when she couldn't be there." Brynn's voice trembles, and she tightens her fists, forcing the memories down. "But it broke. The day she… the day she left. The head just… snapped right off." She lets out a short, bitter laugh. "I threw it away."

"Brynn…"

"Don't," she mutters sharply, shaking her head. "It's fine. It was a stupid little thing, anyway."

"It wasn't stupid," Luca says, his voice so gentle it makes her chest ache. "You lost something important."

"I lose everything," she whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them. "Everything I try to hold onto… everything I try to protect… it always breaks. It always?—"

"Not everything." He steps closer, his blue eyes bright with conviction. "You're still here, Brynn. You're still fighting. That means something."

She stares at him, heart finding a rhythm it's never beat to before. "What does it mean?"

"It means…" He reaches out slowly, his fingers brushing against her arm. "It means there's hope."

Hope. The word feels like a blade, sharp and cutting. She swallows painfully, her gaze locked on his.

"Maybe for you," she murmurs. "But not for me."

His fingers tighten, just a fraction, his gaze never wavering. "Then I'll hope for both of us."

The words hang between them, and Brynn feels the hardness inside her begin to melt. She looks down, unable to hold his gaze any longer, and slowly, hesitantly, she nods.

"Okay," she whispers, the word barely more than a breath.

Luca's smile is soft, almost tender. And as they turn back to the path, moving side by side, Brynn feels it again—that slow, treacherous warmth, curling deeper inside her chest.

Something is changing between them.

And for the first time, she doesn't try to stop it.

They fall into a tentative, uneasy rhythm as they walk—Brynn keeping to the front, Luca a steady presence beside her. For a while, the silence between them feels less oppressive, softened by the echo of shared confessions and that fragile flicker of warmth that still lingers in Brynn's chest.

But the deeper they go, the more the woods seem to change around them.

The path, already narrow and overgrown, begins to constrict even further, thick roots and thorn-covered vines weaving across the ground in a tangled, treacherous mess. Massive trunks loom overhead, their branches twisting into grotesque shapes that seem to claw at the sky.

Brynn slows, eyes narrowing as she scans the undergrowth. Every step feels heavier, every lungful thicker, the air dense and stagnant. It's as if the forest itself is holding its breath, waiting. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, the Beast stirring uneasily beneath her skin.

"Do you feel that?" Luca whispers beside her, his voice barely more than a breath.

She nods stiffly, her gaze darting to the shadows shifting at the edges of her vision. "Something's wrong," she murmurs. "The magic here… it's different."

Different, and far more dangerous. She can feel it prickling at her skin, a low, insidious hum that seems to vibrate through the very ground beneath her feet. The Beast growls softly, its talons scraping against her insides, reacting to the dark energy pulsing through the air.

It's like a warning, a cold, creeping dread curling in her gut.

"Older," she adds, voice tight. "This isn't just the curse. There's something else here."

Luca frowns, glancing around warily. "What do you mean?"

"I mean—" She breaks off, sucking in a sharp breath as a flicker of movement catches her eye.

Something darts through the shadows up ahead—too fast to track, a blur of black and red that disappears almost as quickly as it appears. Brynn freezes, every muscle tensing as she scans the dense foliage.

"What?" Luca asks sharply. "What did you see?"

"I don't know," she whispers, voice tight. She turns slowly, eyes narrowed, but there's nothing. Just shadows and the faint rustling of leaves. "Could be?—"

A sudden crack shatters the silence and Brynn spins around, claws half-sprung.

"Did you hear that?" Luca breathes, his eyes wide.

"Yes," she murmurs, her gaze locked on the twisted undergrowth around them. The sound hasn't come from any animal. It's been deliberate—purposeful.

Something is hunting them.

The realization sends a shiver down her spine. She tightens her control, forcing the Beast back, and starts forward again, slower this time. Luca stays close, his hand hovering near his blade, his eyes darting nervously.

The path narrows even further, the roots and vines thickening until they're forced to weave around them, each step slow and careful. The thorns are sharper here, their dark, jagged edges glistening with something that looks almost like… blood. Brynn swallows, muscles coiling tighter. The scent of decay is stronger now, mingling with something metallic and sharp that makes her stomach twist.

"Brynn…" Luca's voice is low, hesitant.

She glances at him, brow furrowed, and follows his gaze to the nearest tree.

A series of strange, twisted markings are carved into the bark. Long, jagged lines that seem to writhe and pulse beneath the surface. Brynn's breath catches, her chest constricting.

"What is it?" Luca asks softly. "Is it?—"

"It's a marker," she rasps, her voice barely more than a breath. She steps closer, staring at the runes carved deep into the wood. They're familiar—too familiar—but… wrong. Twisted, corrupted. "Someone's been here."

Luca's frown deepens. "A marker for what?"

"For us," she murmurs, heart thumping unevenly. "This is a warning."

But the more she stares at the markings, the more unease twists in her gut. No, not a warning. It's more than that. These runes… they're active. Alive. And the magic in them… She can feel it—old and dark, coiling beneath her skin, whispering to the curse inside her.

"It's… reacting to me," she whispers, almost to herself.

The Beast shifts restlessly, talons pricking at her palms, and she clenches her fists, fighting to keep it at bay.

Luca takes a step closer, his gaze fixed on the strange markings. "What does it mean?"

"It means someone's waiting," she says tightly. "Someone who knows exactly what we're up against." Her chest constricts, cold fear wrapping around her heart. "This isn't just a marker. It's a trap."

Luca's eyes widen. "A trap? For?—"

"For me," she hisses, the words sharp and bitter. "Whoever left this—they knew that if I came this way… They knew I'd see this."

"Then we should turn back," he says quickly. "If it's a trap?—"

"We can't turn back," she snaps, cutting him off. "That's what they want. They want us to double back. It's a lure, Luca. They're herding us."

"This is probably the first warning," he murmurs, his voice tight. "Brynn, we can't?—"

"What choice do we have?" She gestures sharply to the path ahead, to the thickening darkness pressing in from all sides. "If we turn back, we do exactly what they want us to. We'll be walking straight into a trap."

"But what if this is also a trap?—"

"Then I'll break it," she snarls, the Beast's growl curling through her voice. She turns back to the tree, staring at the twisted markings. The runes seem to pulse under her gaze, the magic in them whispering to the darkness inside her, coaxing it, teasing it.

But beneath that… beneath that, there's something else. A signature. Faint, almost imperceptible, but unmistakable.

And it makes her blood run cold.

"No…" she breathes, a shiver racing down her spine. She takes a step back, shaking her head. "It's him."

"Who?" Luca asks sharply, eyes wide. "Brynn, who?—"

"Maelor," she whispers, the name a bitter stain on her tongue. "He's here."

Brynn's breath comes faster, her pulse pounding in her ears as the realization sinks in. Maelor. The twisted runes etched into the tree seem to burn under her gaze, the magic thrumming dark and low, like a taunt. He's here. Watching. Waiting for her to stumble into his web.

Just like he always has.

"Brynn, we need to—" Luca starts, his voice tight with urgency.

"Keep moving," she says, cutting him off sharply. She turns on her heel, pushing past him with a determined stride. "We can't stay here."

"Brynn, wait—" He reaches for her, but she shakes her head violently.

"No, Luca." She swings around, eyes blazing. "He wants us to turn back. He's trying to scare us, to make us waste time doubling back and second-guessing every step." She takes a deep breath, hardening her resolve. "But I'm not giving him that. I'm not giving him you."

Luca blinks, surprise flickering across his face. "Brynn?—"

"He's hunting me, Luca," she says fiercely. "And if we turn back now, if we let him control us, then—" Her voice breaks, raw and choked, and she forces the words out. "Then he gains the upper hand. He'll hurt you just to punish me. And I won't—" She clenches her fists, shaking her head. "I won't let that happen."

His expression softens, something warm and tender flickering in his eyes. "Brynn…"

"This isn't about me anymore," she whispers, the words slipping out before she can stop them. "It's about keeping you safe. And if that means going through him—if that means walking straight into his trap—then so be it."

The resolve in her voice makes the Beast stir, its growl low and rumbling in her chest. She can feel it now, the protective instinct roaring to life, the darkness inside her coiling tighter. She can't beat Maelor. She can't break this curse.

But she can protect Luca.

She has to.

She turns away sharply, setting her jaw. "So we keep moving. We stay ahead of him. And if he tries to stop us?—"

Her claws lengthen, the fur rippling along her arms as the Beast surges closer to the surface.

"Then I'll make him regret it."

Luca stares at her, his eyes wide and bright. And then, slowly, he nods, his expression hardening with resolve.

"Then we keep moving," he agrees, falling into step beside her.

Brynn takes a deep breath, steadying herself, and pushes forward. The path winds on, darker and more twisted, the air ripe with tension.

But she doesn't slow.

She doesn't hesitate.

Because now, it isn't just about surviving. It isn't just about the curse, or the shadows pressing in around them.

It's about protecting Luca.

And she'll burn the whole forest down before she lets Maelor lay a finger on him.

One moment, there's only the heavy, suffocating silence pressing in around them—the dark, twisted trees, the tangle of roots and vines snaking across the path.

And then, without warning, the shadows move.

Brynn jerks to a halt, claws half-sprung, her gaze darting through the thick undergrowth. The hairs on the back of her neck stand on end, every instinct screaming at her to move, to fight?—

Except before she can react, the forest erupts into chaos.

Dark shapes burst from the underbrush, their eyes glowing a sickly, unnatural yellow. Twisted, half-rotted creatures—wolves, deer, and other forest animals warped and corrupted by evil—snarl and snap as they swarm around Brynn and Luca. Fangs gleam, claws raking against the ground, the air soiled with the stench of decay and blood.

"Brynn, get back!" Luca's shout rings out, sharp and urgent.

She whips around, heart lurching, but he's already there—throwing himself in front of her, his blade flashing as he swings at the nearest beast. A massive wolf, its body warped and sinewy, lunges for him, jaws wide. Luca's blade barely catches it across the snout, knocking it off-balance.

"Luca, no!" Brynn starts forward, panic flaring in her veins, but more creatures surge in, blocking her path.

There are too many.

Far too many.

"Stay back!" Luca shouts, voice tight with fear.

He swings his blade again, slicing through the air, and the wolf yelps, staggering back. But there are more behind it, dark shapes closing in, their eyes fixed on him with a terrible, hungry light.

He's trying. He's fighting.

But he isn't a warrior.

He isn't built for this.

They're going to tear him apart.

"No!" Brynn lunges forward, claws outstretched, but a stag—its body grotesquely twisted, its antlers sharpened to deadly points—slams into her side, knocking her back. She hits the ground, the impact jarring her bones, and a snarl rips from her throat.

"Luca!" She scrambles to her feet, but he's already surrounded. The creatures snap and snarl, their teeth flashing as they dart in and out, tearing at his arms, his legs. He swings wildly, his knife glinting, but it isn't enough.

It will never be enough.

"Brynn, run!" he shouts, voice desperate. "Get out of?—"

A massive, sinewy wolf lunges at him from the side, its jaws snapping, and Luca's blade twists in his grip, slipping.

"No!" Brynn's heart contorts painfully. Panic surges, the Beast roaring inside her, and she starts forward, claws extended?—

But it's too late.

The wolf barrels into Luca, knocking him off-balance. His knife goes skittering across the ground, and the creatures swarm him, claws and teeth flashing. He goes down with a strangled cry, blood spraying.

Brynn's vision goes red.

"Luca!"

Her scream tears through the clearing, but the creatures don't even flinch. They snarl and growl, fangs sinking into his flesh, dragging him down?—

Something inside her snaps.

The Beast surges forward, its rage blazing through her veins, and before she can think—before she can stop it—it claims her.

Muscles bunch, claws lengthen, fur bristling along her arms. A snarl rips from her throat, low and vicious, and the creatures falter, ears flattening as the full force of the Beast's presence washes over them.

But it isn't enough.

"Luca!" Brynn lunges forward, except she's too slow.

One of the dark creatures—an enormous, twisted stag—breaks from the pack, its antlers gleaming, and charges toward Luca, its eyes fixed on his throat.

No.

The Beast roars, its fury blazing through her, and Brynn moves. She hurls herself forward, a blur of fur and claws, and slams into the stag with enough force to send it crashing into the trees. The creature shrieks, thrashing wildly, but Brynn holds on, her claws digging deep into its throat. Blood sprays, hot and sharp, and the stag's struggles weaken, its body twitching.

But the rest of the pack is still there—still closing in.

Brynn shoves the stag's lifeless body aside, planting herself between Luca and the snarling, snapping creatures. She bares her teeth, a low, dangerous growl rumbling in her chest, and the twisted animals hesitate, snarling low in their throats.

"Get away from him," she seethes, her voice a deep, guttural growl.

The creatures falter, ears flattening, but they don't retreat. They circle her warily, their eyes glowing in the shadowy light, their bodies tense and coiled. The darkness inside her flares, the Beast thrashing beneath her skin, and she lets it.

Lets it rage

The next time they lunge, she's ready.

The Beast is out now, fully out, and Brynn doesn't fight it.

She tears into the creatures with terrifying grace, talons flashing, teeth snapping. One by one, they fall, shredded by her fury. A massive wolf lunges at her, jaws wide, and she twists sharply, raking her claws across its side.

Blood sprays, and the wolf crumples, yelping.

Another creature—a sinewy deer, its body grotesquely warped—charges from the left, its hooves slashing through the air. Brynn ducks, claws flashing, and the deer's head snaps back, a gurgling cry tearing from its throat as she rips its jugular open.

They're fast. Strong.

But they aren't her.

A vicious growl rumbles in her chest as she tears through the pack, every movement precise, lethal. The creatures yelp and shriek, their cries echoing through the clearing, but Brynn doesn't stop.

Doesn't slow.

She's the Beast. She's the danger.

And she'll kill them all before she lets them touch Luca again.

"Brynn," he whispers, voice barely more than a breath.

She barely hears him.

One by one, the creatures crumple at her feet, their bodies broken and still. Blood streaks her fur, her claws gleaming darkly in the dim light, and when she finally turns to face him, her eyes are blazing.

The last creature—a twisted, sinewy wolf—lets out a low whimper, ears flattening as it backs away slowly.

"Go," Brynn growls softly, low and deadly.

The wolf hesitates, trembling.

"Go."

The creature spins on its heels, tail tucked between its legs, and flees into the shadows.

Brynn stands there, chest heaving, her fur bristling, blood dripping from her claws. The clearing is silent, save for the harsh rasp of her breathing. When she turns back to Luca, her gaze blazing, he freezes.

"Brynn," he whispers again.

She doesn't respond. Just stares at him, her body tense, her gaze wild.

She's won.

But at what cost?