Page 56 of Whisker me Away
"Good morning," Freya murmured against his throat, her voice still husky from sleep and the claiming ceremony. "How do you feel?"
"Like I've been waiting my whole life for this moment." Kieran pressed a kiss to her hair, breathing in her scent. "And terrified about what comes next."
"The ritual?" She lifted her head to study his face, her green-gold eyes bright with love and determination. "We're ready now. The bond is complete."
"Are we though?" He traced the claiming mark on her shoulder, marveling at how perfectly it fit her delicate skin. "Because last night was about love and commitment. Tonight's about facing an ancient evil that's been planning our destruction for decades."
Three precise raps broke the moment.
"Expecting anyone this early?" he asked, already reaching for his clothes.
"No." Freya sat up, the sheet pooling around her waist as she listened to the familiar rhythm. "That's Elder Varric's knock. He must have news about the ritual site."
Kieran pulled on jeans and a shirt while Freya wrapped herself in a robe, both of them moving with the easy coordination that came from a completed mate bond. They could feel each other's emotional state now, sense worry and determination flowing between them like shared breath.
Elder Varric stood on the cottage porch looking like he'd aged a decade overnight. His usually immaculate silver braids were disheveled, and dark circles shadowed his storm-gray eyes. Everything about his posture spoke of a man carrying terrible news.
"Elder Varric," Freya said, opening the door wide. "Come in. Is everything alright?"
"I'm afraid not." He stepped into the cottage, his gaze taking in their obvious intimacy with knowing approval. "I'm glad to see you've completed the bond. We'll need every advantage we can get."
"What's happened?" Kieran asked.
"The corruption site where we planned to perform the ritual. It's... evolved overnight." Elder Varric moved to the window, staring out at the devastated landscape with haunted eyes. "The Thornweaver isn't just waiting passively anymore. It's actively preparing for our arrival."
"Preparing how?" Freya joined him at the window, her magic sparking with nervous energy.
"The entire grove has transformed into something resembling a fortress. Twisted trees that move like living guardians, ground that shifts and changes to confuse intruders, an atmosphere so thick with malevolent energy that even approaching the site is dangerous."
Kieran felt ice settle in his stomach. "You're saying it knows we're coming."
"I'm saying it's been watching us, learning our patterns, adapting its defenses based on our strengths." Elder Varric turned away from the window with visible effort. "Which brings me to why I'm really here."
"The ritual success rate," Kieran said, reading the older man's expression.
"Exactly." Elder Varric's voice grew heavy with reluctant honesty. "I've spent the night consulting with practitioners from other regions, reviewing every historical record of similar binding attempts. The statistics are... not encouraging."
"How not encouraging?" Freya asked, though her voice suggested she already suspected the answer.
"Seventy-three percent failure rate. Of those failures, eighty-five percent resulted in the death of at least one participant." Elder Varric's eyes held the weight of terrible knowledge. "And those were attempts against enemies that hadn't had time to prepare defenses."
The numbers hit Kieran harder than he cared to admit. They were walking into a ritual with approximately a one-in-four chance of success, and even if they succeeded, the odds of both of them surviving were slim.
"There has to be another way," he said, his protective instincts raging against the idea of watching Freya face such overwhelming odds.
"If there is, we haven't found it." Elder Varric's voice carried the exhaustion of someone who'd explored every alternative. "The regional council representative made it clear that quarantine protocols begin at sunset if we don't attempt the ritual today. And every hour we delay, the Thornweaver grows stronger."
"So we're trapped," Kieran said grimly. "Attempt a ritual that'll probably kill us, or watch our home be destroyed anyway."
"I wanted you to understand the stakes before you make your final decision." Elder Varric studied them both with compassionate intensity. "No one would blame you if you chose to evacuate instead. Find a new life somewhere safe, away from ancient evils and impossible responsibilities."
They could run. They could take their completed bond and build a life somewhere else, let someone else worry about Hollow Oak's fate. They'd be together, safe, free from the burden of bloodline magic and community expectations.
"No." Freya's voice cut through Kieran's internal debate with absolute certainty. "We're not running."
"Freya..." Kieran started, but she was already moving toward the bedroom.
"I'm going to get dressed and prepare for the ritual," she announced. "Because that's what Bloom women do. We protect what we love, even when the odds are impossible."
