Chapter 100: Fates Help Us

Chapter 100: Fates Help Us
The outer ridge broke open beneath our feet, and Iron Hollow came into view at last.
Smoke curled lazily from the chimneys. The main house glowed faintly against the gray sky, its stone walls rimed with frost but still standing. Wolves moved between structures in quick, efficient patterns—patrols reshuffling, injured being brought in. We were not the only ones who had bled for the border last night.
As we descended the slope, I felt the eyes of the guards. They didn’t call out. No questions. Just nods and quick glances, assessing the wounds, the limp in Roran’s gait, the way my body curved toward his like I was still guarding something.
We passed through the gates without a word.
Inside, heat poured out from the main hearth. The scent of blood, ash, and healing tinctures tangled in the air. Wolves parted around us as I guided Roran toward the inner den, toward the place I had once feared I would never enter again.
The healer met us at the threshold. Mara, short and sharp-tongued, took one look at him and snapped her fingers. Two others arrived to help lower him onto the stone bed beneath the window. She barely looked at me before pushing a steaming cloth into my hand.
“You’re dripping. Sit before you fall over.”
I didn’t argue.
I sank to the edge of the bed beside Roran while the healers worked. He hissed once as they peeled back the ruined bandages, revealing the torn skin along his ribs, the way the bruises had darkened. But he didn’t flinch. His eyes stayed on me.
I wiped the blood from my own hands, watching them disappear beneath the cloth.
His voice was rough. “You should be the one lying down.”
I shook my head. “You’re the one who nearly died.”
He smiled. It looked like it hurt.
Mara shoved a bowl of broth into my lap. “Eat or I’ll make you drink it through your nose.”
That earned a snort from Roran. I sipped obediently, the warmth spreading through my chest like something solid for the first time in days.
The minutes passed. The pain in my body quieted under the burn of poultices and thread. Mara checked my arm, gave a satisfied grunt, then moved to Roran again.
When she had done all she could, she left with a curt nod. “Rest. If you shift again before tomorrow night, I’ll gut you both myself.”
We were alone.
The fire in the hearth cracked once, soft and sudden. The silence that followed felt too still.
Roran shifted upright with effort, sweat clinging to his brow. His hand reached for the water jug, and I moved faster, holding it to his lips. He drank, eyes locked on mine the whole time. When he was done, he didn’t lean back.
“Something’s different,” he said.
I blinked. “You’ll have to be more specific.”
“No. I mean now. Here. With you.”
I frowned. “The bond?”
He nodded. Then paused.
“No. Not just the bond. Your skin.”
I looked down.
And stopped breathing.
A shape pulsed faintly at the base of my neck, just above the collarbone, where Kael’s original mark had once gleamed bright. That one had faded the night he died. It had burned as he fell, searing with pain, then gone cold.
This new mark was different.
Smaller. Subtle.
But alive.
A pale shimmer curled across my skin, not etched like a scar but glowing from underneath, like moonlight held just beneath the surface.
Not white.
Silver.
It beat once—soft, slow, steady.
Roran’s hand lifted, tentative, reverent. He didn’t touch it. He hovered inches away.
“Fates,” he whispered. “Is that…?”
The truth settled between us like frost. I couldn’t move.
“Yes,” I said. “It’s the second mark.”
He exhaled hard. The sound cracked something in me.
“This shouldn’t be possible.”
“I know.”
“I felt something last night, but I didn’t think…”
“Neither did I.”
His hand lowered, curled into a fist on his lap.
The fire flickered behind him, shadows leaping across the walls.
“This changes everything,” he said.
I nodded, numb.
“It makes you vulnerable.”
“I’m already vulnerable.”
“No.” His voice sharpened. “You’re a widow, a mother, a former Luna in a pack that only barely accepted you. If they see this…”
He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.
The mark gleamed brighter for a breath, as if it heard him and disagreed.
I pressed my hand over it, heart pounding. “I didn’t choose this.”
“Didn’t you?”
I looked up sharply.
His eyes held mine. Not accusing. Just asking.
I thought of the way I’d shifted for him. The way I had run with him. The way my body had known his even when my mind still fought the truth.
Maybe some part of me had chosen.
Maybe that was the scariest part.
“I didn’t mean for it to be him,” I said quietly. “I didn’t know it was possible to belong to two people. I thought Kael would be it. Forever.”
Roran nodded slowly. “Maybe he still is. But maybe the bond doesn’t die when the body does.”
His eyes flared then, bright and unguarded. Silver light flickered at the edges of his pupils, almost as if his wolf was rising behind them.
The mark on my skin pulsed in answer.
I stood too fast. The room spun.
“I need air,” I said.
He didn’t stop me.
I crossed the room, past the fire, past the basin of water where our blood had been washed away. I opened the door with shaking fingers and stepped out into the snow.
The cold slapped my face. I welcomed it.
Behind me, the door creaked again.
Roran stood in the doorway, shirt half-on, his wounds still fresh.
He looked at me like he didn’t know whether to follow or to run.
And then he said it.
Quiet.
Barely audible over the wind.
“Fates help us.”