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"Don't you dare shift on me now." Caelan's claws locked around my wrist so hard I felt the bone grind. His eyes were already bleeding to gold.
"Let go," I hissed. "You're gonna snap it."
"Then run," he snarled. His voice was wrong, half human, half growl. "I'm not gonna make it across the line. The curse is turning."
We were crouched behind the old border stone at the edge of the hunt zone. Past it, the field was open. No cover. No shadows. Just dead grass and moonlight so bright it hurt. And the hounds were already howling on the far ridge.
"We had a deal," I said. "You get me through the gate, I keep you breathing. You don't get to wolf out early."
"You think I have a choice?" He shoved my hand off his chest. His skin was burning up. Sweat on his forehead, claws digging into his own thighs to stay still. "It wants you, Lyra. It smells you."
"Yeah, well, it can't have me." I yanked my arm free and grabbed his collar. "Listen to me. You stay with me. You look at me. You don't look at the moon."
"You don't get it." He laughed, sharp and broken. "This part of the curse? It doesn't eat me. It eats whoever I'm bound to. If we don't cross before zenith, it jumps to you."
My stomach dropped. "What?"
"You heard me." His forehead tipped forward until it almost hit mine. His breath was hot, ragged. "So you can leave me here. Run. Make the gate alone."
"And let you die in a field?" I shoved him back. "No. Not how this works, heir boy. You're my bounty. My ticket out. You don't die until I say so."
He stared at me, gold flickering. "You'd risk it? For a bounty?"
"For my brother," I snapped. "So move your ass. Now."
He didn't move. His hands were shaking. Veins black under his skin, crawling up his neck. The curse lines. I'd seen them before on contracts, but never this alive. Never pulsing.
"Caelan," I said, softer. "Hey. Eyes on me."
"Don't," he whispered. "Don't do that voice."
"What voice?"
"Like you care." His claws flexed. "You don't. You want the money."
"I want you alive," I said. "Is that not enough?"
A howl cut the air. Closer. The hunt horns answered. The whole zone was waking up. If we stayed behind this stone another thirty seconds, we'd be boxed in.
"We go on three," I said. I pulled my blade. Short, silver-edged. Not enough to kill a wolf, enough to make him flinch. "One."
"Lyra—"
"Two."
He grabbed my face. Rough. His palm was scorching. "If I turn halfway, you put that blade in my throat. You hear me? You don't hesitate."
"And if you don't turn?" My voice cracked. I hated that it cracked.
"Then you still owe me a kiss for saving your life," he said, and his mouth twitched like he wanted to smile but his teeth were too sharp.
"You're an asshole," I said.
"Yeah. Now run. Three!"
We broke cover together.
The field was worse than I thought. The moonlight hit like a spotlight. Every step kicked up dust that glowed. Behind us, shouts. "There! By the stone!" Lights swept the grass.
"Don't stop!" Caelan roared. He was faster, even half-cursed. He caught my hand and hauled me forward. His grip was brutal, but I didn't pull away.
"I can run myself!" I yelled.
"You're slow!" he yelled back.
"I'm not slow, you're just—" A shot cracked past my ear. I ducked. "Okay, maybe I'm slow!"
He laughed, actually laughed, even as his back bowed. A ripple went through him. His shoulders popped, wider. Hair thickening at his neck.
"Caelan?" I said.
"Keep going," he gritted. His nails were full claws now, dragging at my sleeve. "Almost there. The gate's at the tree line."
I saw it. The moon gate. Old stone arch, covered in contract script that only I could read. It pulsed faintly. But between us and it, the ground was marked. Hunt sigils. If we stepped wrong, they'd trigger.
"Left!" I shouted. "Left, left, left!"
He veered. Another shot. This one grazed his shoulder. He didn't even flinch. He just growled, low and furious, and pulled me tighter against his side. His body was heat and muscle and that sick sweet smell of curse rot.
"You're burning up," I said.
"I'm fine."
"You're lying."
"You're noticing," he shot back. His eyes snapped to mine. Gold, all gold now. No white left. "You shouldn't notice."
"Well, I do. So deal with it."
We hit the sigil line. The air shivered. The curse on his skin flared, black lines racing. He stumbled. Fell to one knee and dragged me down with him.
"Caelan!" I hit the dirt beside him. "Get up. Get up now."
He was breathing like he'd run miles. His spine arched. A half-shift tearing through him. His jaw lengthened, teeth bared. Claws scraping the dirt.
"Stay back," he choked out. "Lyra, stay back."
I didn't. I put my blade to his throat. My hand shook. "You said don't hesitate."
He looked up at me, and for a second I saw him in there. Just him. Scared and pissed and trying so hard not to hurt me.
"Do it," he whispered. His voice was shredded. "If I lunge—"
"You're not gonna lunge," I said. My blade pressed a little harder. A thin line of blood welled. "You fight it. You hear me? You fight it for three more seconds."
"Why?" He bared his teeth, inches from my blade. Hot breath on my skin. "Why would you trust me?"
"Because you handed me your seal," I said. "Because you could've left me in the archive and you didn't. So now you don't get to quit."
His claws twitched. One hand lifted, like he wanted to touch my face, then stopped. Hovered. Shaking.
"Lyra," he breathed. "If I touch you like this—"
"Then touch me," I said. "And prove you can stop."
He did. His clawed hand cupped my cheek. So careful it hurt. His claws didn't break skin. His forehead dropped to mine, and he shuddered, whole body locked down, fighting the thing inside him.
The horns blew again. Closer. Boots pounding.
"They're coming," I whispered.
"I know," he whispered back. His eyes were still gold, but they were on me. Only me. "I got you. I got you."
We stayed like that for one heartbeat. Too close. His heat all over me, his breath mixing with mine, my blade still at his throat and his hand still on my face like he was afraid I'd vanish.
Then he wrenched back with a snarl and stood, hauling me up with him. "Go!"
We sprinted the last twenty feet and slammed into the moon gate. The stone was cold, humming. Contract light flared under my palms when I touched it.
"Read it," Caelan said, panting behind me. His voice was raw. "Open it."
"I'm trying!" The script swam. Old wolf law, tangled clauses. I traced fast. "It's a passage clause, it needs— God, it needs a price."
"What price?"
"Blood or bond or—" The letters rearranged under my fingers. Burned brighter. My breath stopped.
No. No, no, no.
"What?" He crowded behind me, chest to my back, looking over my shoulder. "What does it say?"
I couldn't speak. The gate had shown the final clause. The one hidden under the seven-day bond. The one neither of us had seen.
It glowed, fresh and cruel.
"Tell me," he demanded. He turned me around, hands on my shoulders, pinning me to the stone. His gold eyes searched mine. "Lyra, what does it say?"
I swallowed. My hands were shaking against his chest.
"It says I have to kill you," I whispered. "Before dawn on day seven. Or my brother dies first. It says—"
The gate pulsed, and new words carved themselves, louder.
"FINAL CLAUSE: KILL CAELAN ROOK BEFORE DAWN ON DAY SEVEN, OR YOUR BROTHER'S HEART STOPS FIRST. CHOOSE, HUNTER. SO WHICH ONE WILL YOU—"