Page 74 of The Huntmaster

I stepped into the hut’s dim, cool interior and laid her down on the furs with care. I grabbed a clean cloth and dipped it into the basin of cool water, my hands trembling slightly as I wiped the dried mud and the spray of the waterfall from her limbs. When I reached the junction of her thighs, I paused. She was still coated in the evidence of our joining—the thick, pearly slickness of my seed marking her skin. I didn't clean it. I wanted the smell of me to stay on her. I wanted her to wake up and feel the weight of my claim still heavy inside her.

I pulled a heavy fur over her, tucking it under her chin. Then, with a lingering look that felt like a tether being pulled taut, I stepped back out into the night.

Toren was pacing the dirt, his arms crossed. He looked up the moment I emerged.

"Kaelen," he said, his voice unusually sombre. "You look like you’ve seen the birth of a sun. What happened out there? The elders are already talking. They saw the flash from the waterfall. They’ve never seen a marking flare like that—not in three generations."

I leaned against the hut, looking out over the nest’s flickering fires. My heart was finally slowing, but the clarity remained.

"The Hunt is over, Toren," I said, my voice rough. "But the Binding... it’s different. It’s not just a physical claim. I felt her. I see her."

Toren went quiet, his eyes searching mine. "She’s your mate, Kaelen," he said softly.

The word hit me harder than any blow in the arena. I hadn't said it aloud yet. I hadn't dared to name the supernova in my chest.

"I have seen the binding in others," Toren continued, his voice tight. "I have sensed the pull between warriors and their chosen for cycles. But this... this is stronger. Different. You aren't just wearing her scent, brother. You are glowing with her."

Toren looked away, his jaw tightening. A flicker of something dark crossed his features—bitterness, perhaps. Or envy. "I’m almost jealous," he muttered.

My back went up instantly. The beast in my marrow, already hyper-sensitive after the Hunt, surged to the surface. My hands curled into fists, my gaze turning predatory as I stepped toward him. "You want her?" I hissed, the threat vibrating through the air. "You think you can take what is mine?"

Toren held up his hands, his eyes widening as he quickly shut down my thought process. "Calm your blood, Kaelen! I don't want her. I want that." He gestured vaguely to the space between my heart and the hut.

He let out a long, heavy breath, his shoulders sagging. "I have waited aeons to find my own missing piece. I don't deny having plenty of fun—the Solstice provides—but it’s just flesh, Kaelen. It always leaves me with this hollow ache inside when the moons fade. But looking at you now..." Toren shook his head, a sad, honest smile touching his lips. "You look complete. For the first time in your life, the hunger in you is quiet. You’re finally whole."

The tension left me as quickly as it had come, replaced by a hollow sympathy for my friend.

"Is it possible, Toren?" I asked, my voice rough. "For the soul-bind to bridge worlds? Can the Oru-ka truly recognise a mate who does not share our blood?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the sudden, low-frequency blast of the Great Horn interrupted him. It echoed through the valley, a deep, vibrating groan that signalled the Lunar Festival’s official end. The Alignment was passing. The Hunt was done.

"The time for hiding is over," Toren whispered. "The tribe saw you carry her in. They saw your light. Some will see this as a blessing. Others... others will see it as a corruption. A Master bound to a ghost."

"I will not have them speak of her as a ghost," I growled.

"Then you need answers," Toren said firmly. "Go to Elder Valra. She is the keeper of the Deep Memory. If there is a precedent for this—if there is any scrap of prophecy that explains why a daughter of the stars belongs to a son of the Nest—she will have it."

I looked back at my hut’s door. The bond thrummed steadily now, telling me Lyra was safe, but the weight of my leadership felt heavier than ever.

"Wait here," I commanded. "Guard the door. If anyone so much as breathes too loudly near this hut, let them answer to you."

"And if they answer to me and I don't like it?" Toren asked with a grim smirk.

"Then let them answer to my blade when I return."

The ascent to Elder Valra’s dwelling was a path carved from the very spine of the mountain, a vertical labyrinth of stone and ancient silence. While the rest of the Nest descended into the heavy, drug-like slumber that followed the Solstice, I climbed into the freezing mist of the high peaks.

The bond at the centre of my chest was no longer just a sensation; it was a taut, humming wire of pure energy, pulling at my ribs with every step I took away from the hut. It was a literal tearing, a constant reminder that half of my essence was currently lying unconscious miles below. I felt her heart’s slow, steady thrum against the back of my mind, a reassurance that she was safe, yet the distance made my skin itch with a primal, defensive need.

Valra lived where the titan-trees finally surrendered to the sky-cliffs, in a cavern hollowed out by the relentless winds of a thousand cycles.

As I stepped into the mouth of her sanctuary, the air grew thick and heavy, smelling of burning Sela-root, damp earth, and the metallic tang of old blood. Valra was sitting by a small hearth fueled by blue-flamed salts. She did not turn her head. She did not need to. Though the Great Veil had clouded her eyes decades ago, leaving her sightless to the physical world, she perceived the shifting of the tides and the weight of souls with a clarity that shamed the sighted.

"You took your time reaching me, Huntmaster," she rasped. Her voice sounded like river stones grinding together in a deep current.

I stopped at the edge of the firelight, my hand resting instinctively on the hilt of my blade. "You knew I would come."

"The mountains felt your footfalls long before you reached the first ledge, Kaelen-Thul," she said, her head tilting as if she were tracking a scent only she could find. She turned her face toward me, her milky, sightless eyes staring at a point exactly where my hearts beat. "The light of your joining nearly scorched my inner vision from here. The Alignment did not just bring the tides and the fever this time. It brought a rupture. A turning point in the song of this world."