"Was worth it," Casteel interrupted. He looked down at his hands, flexing his fingers as if expecting something that didn't come. "I can't feel it anymore. The wolf. It's gone."
Through their bond, Nero felt an overwhelming sense of connection, as vibrant and alive as the wolf within him. The shared emotions and mutual understanding that had once defined their relationship now surged through him with renewed intensity. For Nero, the bond remained unbreakable, a powerful force that tied him to Casteel with unyielding strength.
But he knew Casteel, without the wolf, felt diminished. "The bond," Casteel whispered, "it's different."
"The wolf-soul was what made your connection so strong," Eryken explained gently. "Without it..."
"Without it, I'm nothing more than someone…" Casteel stopped, his voice hollow with realization. Eryken left, clearly thinking this moment should be private.
Nero reached for Casteel with urgency, trying to convey reassurance through their bond. To him, the emotions still flowed freely, vibrant and potent. "This doesn't change anything," Nero insisted, feeling the truth settle within him like an unwavering flame. "Magic or no magic, we are still bonded—that hasn't changed." He felt so much more, but now wasn't the moment for declarations. Then another unwelcome thought came. If Casteel wasn't dependent on Nero for his life, would he stay? Or would he decide being saddled with an old man was too much of a price to pay?
Casteel's eyes searched Nero's face with heartbreaking intensity. "Are you certain? How can you be sure what you feel is real, and what was just the compulsion of the bond?"
Nero smiled. “And you? How do you know the same?” Casteel’s eyes shimmered and Nero pulled him close, his chest wound barely twinging.
“I used to feel the same as you are feeling now,” he explained. “But I didn’t have the experience of the power you have given me. You did, so it’s bound tofeeldiminished even if it isn't, and for that I’m sorry.”
“No,” Casteel pressed his fingers to Nero’s lips. “Don’t apologize. I would do it again in a heartbeat.” Casteel hesitated. "You're free."
Nero frowned. "Free?"
"The transfer changed the bond. You aren't dependent on me for your life. You won't get sick—"
I don't want to be free, Nero wanted to shout. But did Casteel? Before he could say more, the door burst open.
“The Silver Guard are nearly here,” Lucan said. “We have to go now.”
Nero didn’t hesitate, springing into action and scooping Casteel up as they ran after Lucan, leaving all doubts behind. Their bond was still strong in Nero's heart, and it was unthinkable to imagine any other reality.
Chapter Sixteen
Casteel knew Nero shouldbe relieved, but instead he'd looked horrified for a split second before they'd had to run. It could just be gratitude mixed with the usual amount of guilt and responsibility Nero hauled around like a boulder.
He should have been thankful Nero was carrying him, as he knew he didn’t have the strength in his own legs to run, but all Casteel felt was hollow, an emptiness where the wolf had once resided. For his entire life, that wild presence had been part of him—sleeping during his years as a stable boy, awakening with the prophecy, but always there in his dreams even if he never recognized it for what it was. Now there was nothing but ordinary flesh and blood, ordinary bones. Ordinary Casteel. And how could someone as amazing as Nero love someone so ordinary?
He wouldn't. Once the guilt wore off. Once they had defeated the priests. Then Nero would realize he didn't need Casteel.
Or maybe he didn't even need him now?
As Nero carried him through the inn's back door into the pre-dawn darkness, Casteel felt the wrongness of their positions. He should be protecting Nero, not the other way around. The man had been dying barely three bells ago, arrow wounds in his chest. Yet now Nero moved with fluid strength, holding Casteel as if he weighed nothing at all.
The silver wolf's power had transferred completely but had exponentially increased in Nero, as if it recognized him. It made sense. Wolves didn't change their natures. Nero would always be an alpha, and Casteel would always be somethingless.
"The wagon's too conspicuous," Eryken hissed, leading them toward a small copse of trees behind the stables. "We'll have to go on foot through the forest."
Nero nodded, his newly enhanced senses already mapping the terrain ahead. "I can hear them—two patrols, converging from the east and south. Perhaps twenty men total."
Casteel marveled at how naturally Nero had adapted to the wolf-soul's gifts. The powers that Casteel had never mastered, Nero wielded with instinctive precision. He felt his mate's determination, his protective focus—but the emotions were distant, like voices heard through thick walls.
"I can walk," Casteel insisted, though his limbs felt leaden. "You need to be ready to fight if they catch up."
Nero hesitated, then carefully set Casteel on his feet, one arm remaining around his waist for support. "Stay close."
They moved into the forest as the first rays of dawn filtered through the canopy. Eryken led the way, with Lucan bringing up the rear. The innkeeper had provided rough-spun cloaks that helped them blend with the shadows between trees. The girl who had brought the healer had taken Makim to hide with them.
"The old man can take care of himself," Eryken said, noting Nero's backward glances. "He's survived worse than Silver Guard interrogations."
Casteel stumbled over an exposed root, and Nero caught him before he could fall.
