Chapter 78
Aurora stood in the clearing, her breath visible in the cold morning air. Anica stood a few paces away, their posture relaxed but their golden eyes sharp. Cassian watched from the edge of the training circle, his arms crossed and his expression unreadable.
“First lesson,” Anica began, their voice carrying easily over the quiet forest. “Your bond to the Celestial Pact isn’t something you control—not yet. It’s like a river: powerful, unpredictable, and dangerous if you try to force it.”
Aurora frowned. “So, what am I supposed to do?”
“Learn to feel it,” Anica replied. “The Pact isn’t just a source of power—it’s a connection to the natural balance. Close your eyes, listen, and let it come to you.”
Aurora hesitated, her pulse quickening as she glanced at Cassian. He gave her a small nod, his presence steadying her.
Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let the sounds of the forest wash over her. The rustling of leaves, the distant calls of birds, and the faint hum of energy beneath it all.
At first, there was nothing but the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. But then, faintly, she felt it—a thread of warmth winding through her chest, tugging gently.
“I feel something,” she said, her voice soft.
Anica nodded, a small smile tugging at their lips. “Good. Now hold onto it. Let it guide you.”
As the training continued, Cassian watched intently. Aurora’s focus was unwavering, her strength shining through despite the uncertainty of what she was learning.
“Is this really necessary?” Nathan asked quietly as he approached Cassian.
Cassian didn’t look away from Aurora. “If she’s going to face the Lycan King, she needs every advantage we can give her.”
“And if this bond turns out to be too much for her to handle?” Nathan pressed.
Cassian’s jaw tightened. “Then I’ll protect her. No matter what.”
Later that evening, as the camp settled into a calm rhythm, Aurora sat by the fire, her muscles aching from the day’s training. Cassian joined her, his presence a quiet comfort.
“You did well today,” he said, his voice low.
Aurora smiled faintly. “It doesn’t feel like it. I’m barely scratching the surface of this… bond, or whatever it is.”
“Progress is progress,” Cassian replied, his gaze steady. “You’re stronger than you think, Aurora. You’ll figure this out.”
She turned to him, her chest tightening at the sincerity in his eyes. “You always believe in me, even when I don’t.”
Cassian’s lips curved into a small smile. “That’s because I know you. I’ve seen what you’re capable of. And I know you’ll rise to whatever comes next.”
Aurora felt her cheeks warm as she looked away, her thoughts swirling. “What if I don’t? What if I’m not enough?”
Cassian reached out, his hand brushing against hers. “Then I’ll be there to catch you. Always.”
Aurora met his gaze, the intensity of his words sending a flutter through her chest. For a moment, the weight of the world fell away, leaving only the two of them in the glow of the firelight.
As the night deepened, Cassian escorted Aurora back to her quarters. The camp was quiet, the shadows long as the torches burned low.
Before she stepped inside, Aurora hesitated, her hand resting on the doorframe. “Cassian…”
He paused, turning to face her. “What is it?”
She took a deep breath, her voice soft. “Thank you. For everything.”
Cassian’s gaze softened, and he reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to thank me, Aurora. This is where I want to be. With you.”
Her heart raced as his words sank in, and before she could overthink it, she stepped closer, her lips brushing against his in a soft, tentative kiss.
Cassian froze for a moment, startled, before he responded, his hand sliding to the small of her back as he deepened the kiss. The world around them faded, leaving only the warmth of their connection.
When they finally pulled apart, Aurora’s cheeks were flushed, her breath unsteady.
“I should go,” she said, though her voice wavered.
Cassian smiled faintly, his hand lingering against hers. “Goodnight, Aurora.”
She nodded, stepping inside and closing the door behind her. But even as she leaned against the wooden frame, her heart racing, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted between them—something she wasn’t ready to name, but couldn’t ignore.
