Page 116 of The Moonborn's Curse

Still nothing.

He took another step, shaking now.

"You have to feel it too." His hand twitched like he wanted to reach for her—but didn't dare. "I know you do. That pull in your chest. That ache that doesn't stop. It hurts when we're apart. It wasn't meant to stretch like this."

His voice dropped to a whisper, desperate and frantic.

"The bond will bring you back to me. It has to."

But Seren just looked past him. Still hollow-eyed. Still silent.

Something flickered in his expression—panic, then anger.

He turned and left.

Her heart thundered, but she didn't turn from her path.

Instead, she turned back to the envelope, her hands trembling as she reread the final lines of the letter.

That night, long before dawn, Seren slipped from the loft window in silence. She climbed down the tree barefoot, her cloak tied at her waist. The forest welcomed her, cool and whispering, as her senses stretched outward—listening. Feeling. Like a mother welcoming her child back.

No one followed her.

She moved like a shadow through the underbrush, until the path opened into the clearing.

The same one where she had first fled, breathless, terrified—from the beast.

But it was not a beast now.

The bear stepped from the trees cautiously, shoulders heavy with muscle and silence. It's great head tilted snout twitching.

She didn't run.

She didn't flinch.

She stepped forward, her hand outstretched.

And for the first time, her palm touched the rough wetness of his nose.

His eyes met hers—dark, ancient, aware.

"I need your help," she whispered.

Chapter 44

Seren

They moved like shadows, slipping through the forest and into the river.

The bear led, hulking and sure-footed, his shoulders slicing through the current. Seren followed, feet numb, breath thin. When the water rose, he crouched and let her cling to his fur, carrying her across the deeper stretches without a sound.

When the river deepened and the current threatened to drag her under, the bear turned without hesitation and crouched low. With arms shaking from exhaustion, she clung to his thick fur as he carried her across the deeper waters, each step slow and careful. The current washed away more than scent.

It tried to wash away the feel of him.

The ache in her chest had worsened with each passing hour—an invisible claw tearing at her from the inside. The bond pulled like a chain, grinding down her strength with its unrelenting tug.

They hadn't touched in a long time.

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