Chapter 118 — The Bond That Burns

Chapter 118 — The Bond That Burns
Caius POV

The night stretched long and sharp, stars piercing the black sky like a thousand watching eyes. Caius hadn’t slept, hadn’t even sat. Every part of him felt too tightly wound, like his body was a bowstring drawn taut and straining.

He stood at the edge of camp, silent as the trees, his gaze fixed on the dark horizon. Somewhere beyond those peaks, past rivers and ravines and enchanted barriers, she waited.

Cass.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw her. Not the powerful vision she’d become since awakening the bond—but the last time they stood face to face. Her hands trembling. Her voice breaking as she tried to make him understand. And him—cold, angry, afraid.

He’d told himself it was to protect her.

But that wasn’t the truth.

He had been scared.

Of what she made him feel. Of how easily she unraveled the armor he’d spent a lifetime forging. He had pushed her away, snapped at her, questioned her intentions—not because she was unworthy, but because she was the only thing in the world that had ever made him feel vulnerable.

And now she was gone.

Taken.

Caged.

Carrying his heir.

“I should have stopped her,” he whispered to no one. The forest didn’t answer, but the bond did—a faint flicker of warmth in his chest, like the last glow of a dying ember.

He pressed a hand there, over his heart. “I’m coming, little wolf. Just hold on a little longer.”

Footsteps approached, crunching through the frost-laced earth. Kalen.

“The first scouts are back,” Kalen reported. “They found the tower. It's just as you said—guarded, layered with old wards. But not impossible.”

Caius nodded. “How many guards?”

“Three patrol rotations. Two inside. No one powerful. Alder’s hiding her, not flaunting her.”

“He knows better,” Caius muttered. “He’s afraid.”

“He should be.”

A pause.

Then Kalen added, quieter, “You don’t have to do this alone. We all saw what losing her did to you.”

Caius’s expression darkened. “I don’t want to just get her back. I want her to know that I was wrong. That I see her now—for everything she is. I want her to look at me and not see the man who pushed her away, but the one who would burn the world to bring her home.”

“You think she doesn’t already know that?”

Caius exhaled. “She might. But I don’t deserve her faith. Not yet.”

Kalen placed a hand on his shoulder. “Then take it back.”

The wind picked up, and Caius tilted his head toward the mountains. Somewhere far away, he felt her pulse again. Faint. Weakened. But still burning.

The bond was still there.

And it was time to answer it.

He returned to the war tent after Kalen left to double the perimeter guard. The space was dimly lit by flickering lanterns, but every inch of it was humming with tension. Maps, messages, movement. Wolves in various states of readiness glanced his way as he passed, some lowering their gazes, others watching with reverent attention.

He wasn’t just their Alpha anymore.

He was their king.

But none of it mattered if she was still in chains.

He stared at the map, but it offered no comfort. He didn’t need lines or markers. He needed time—and he was running out.

Cass had always been the stronger one, he realized.

She had faced exile, rejection, secrecy—and still, she had loved him. Still, she had believed. Even when he denied the bond, even when he kept her at arm’s length, she had shown up again and again. Her presence had been quiet but unyielding, like the pull of the tide.

And he, a fool, had resisted.

He thought of her laugh—soft and rare, like a secret. Her eyes when they darkened with defiance. Her voice when she whispered his name like it was the only one that ever mattered.

Gods, what if he was too late?

He dropped his hands to the edge of the table, gripping it so tightly the wood groaned.

She had cried in front of him the night before she left. Not just from fear—but from something deeper. Hurt. Betrayal. And still, she had walked away when he told her to.

He remembered the moment like it had been carved into him. She had turned at the threshold, looking back over her shoulder, waiting for him to stop her. Say something. Anything.

He hadn’t.

And that silence had cost him everything.

Caius turned as another scout entered, breathless and wide-eyed. “We found a weakness in the ward. South side of the tower. Old roots pushing under the ward lines. Could be usable.”

“Mark it. No one approaches it without my order.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.”

When the scout left, Caius finally allowed himself to sit. Just for a moment. He ran a hand down his face, exhaling hard.

He wished he had told her he loved her.

He wished he had told her she was never just a mate of convenience. Never just a political symbol or a prophecy’s pawn.

She was the only one who had ever truly seen him.

And he had cast her out.

“I will tear Alder’s throat out with my bare hands,” he murmured, voice like a storm just before it broke.

Not just for taking her.

But for touching her.

For caging her.

For making her doubt, even for a moment, that she was anything less than holy.

Caius stood again, shoulders squaring.

He would get her back.

He would make it right.

And gods help the man who tried to stop him.