Chapter 15: Healing in the Aftermath

The rogue camp lay in shambles as the lunar eclipse faded, the moon reclaiming its silver glow, casting long shadows over the blood-streaked earth. Tents sagged, torn by claws and stained with crimson, while the fire pit smoldered, its embers scattered across the clearing like fallen stars. The air was heavy with the scents of pine, smoke, and iron—death's perfume lingering where Darius's pack had struck and fled. Elara stood beside Kael, her shoulder throbbing where Sylva's claws had raked her, but her focus was on him—his chest heaving, his black hair matted with sweat and blood, his golden eyes dim with exhaustion yet burning with a fierce, unyielding light.The rogues moved around them, their voices a low hum of relief and resolve—thirty-two had stood before the fight, and twenty-six remained, their losses etched in the grim lines of their faces. Gav limped past, his hatchet still clutched in his good hand, a fresh gash on his cheek dripping red, while Ryn knelt by a fallen rogue, her bow resting beside her as she murmured a quiet farewell. Lira paced the perimeter, her spear propped on her shoulder, her auburn braid frayed but her stride unbroken, barking orders to secure the camp.Kael's arm was a steel band around Elara's waist, holding her close as if she might vanish, his breath warm against her temple despite the chill settling into the night. "You're bleeding," he rasped, his voice rough from roaring, his hand brushing her torn shoulder, fingers trembling slightly—a crack in his stoic armor."So are you," she countered, her gaze dropping to the blood seeping through his bandages, the stitches on his thigh torn wide, fresh cuts crisscrossing his chest. She pulled back, steadying herself against the ache in her legs, and met his eyes. "Sit. Let me fix you.""Not here," he said, glancing at the chaos, the rogues' stares lingering on them—on her, the starborn whose blood had turned the tide. "Tent. Now."She nodded, grabbing her bag—the Lunar Covenant still inside, its pages crumpled but intact—and followed him, his limp pronounced as he led her to a tent near the cliff's base, its canvas one of the few still standing. Inside, a lantern flickered on a crate, casting a soft glow over a pallet of furs, a battered table, and a scattering of supplies—bandages, a canteen, a knife. Kael sank onto the furs with a grunt, his weight dipping the pile, and pulled her down beside him, his hand never leaving hers."Stubborn," she muttered, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she knelt, digging through her bag for the first-aid kit. "You're worse than me.""Doubt that," he replied, a ghost of a grin breaking through the pain etched into his face. He leaned back, shirtless, his chest a map of scars and fresh wounds—claw marks, bites, bruises blooming purple against his tanned skin. The lantern light danced across him, highlighting the tension in his muscles, the blood crusting his ribs, and she swallowed, her chest tightening with a mix of fear and awe—he'd fought for her, for them all, and survived."Hold still," she said, her voice softening as she grabbed an alcohol wipe, dabbing at a gash on his shoulder. He hissed, claws flexing into the furs, but didn't flinch, his gaze locked on her—golden, intense, a tether that steadied her trembling hands. "This one's deep," she murmured, tracing the edge, her fingers brushing his skin, warm and alive beneath the blood."Been deeper," he said, his tone gruff but laced with something softer, his hand catching hers, pressing it to his chest. His heartbeat thumped under her palm, strong despite the strain, and the bond flared—warm, fierce, a current that flowed between them, stronger since the eclipse, since her blood had burned with silver fire."Don't scare me like that again," she whispered, her throat tight, the memory of Darius pinning him—of his roars, his blood—flooding back. She leaned closer, cleaning the wound, her hair falling into her face, and he brushed it back, his touch gentle, reverent."Could say the same," he murmured, his thumb grazing her cheek, lingering on the smudge of dirt there. "You faced him—Sylva too. Didn't run.""Couldn't," she said, meeting his eyes, the bond humming with the truth of it. "Not from you."He exhaled, a low sound that vibrated through her, and pulled her closer, his forehead resting against hers. "Mine," he growled, the word a claim, a vow, his breath hot on her lips. She nodded, breathless, and kissed him—slow, deep, tasting the salt and smoke on him, the wildness that was Kael. His hand slid to her neck, fingers tangling in her hair, and he deepened it, a quiet hunger simmering beneath the exhaustion, a promise held in check by their wounds, their need for rest."Later," she murmured, pulling back, her lips tingling, her hands steadying on his shoulders. "When you're not bleeding out.""Deal," he rasped, his grin feral, tender, his hand resting on her hip, squeezing lightly—a spark of heat that lingered as she returned to her task.She worked methodically, cleaning each cut, stitching the worst—his thigh, his ribs—her fingers deft despite the ache in her own shoulder. He watched her, silent but present, his trust absolute, and when she finished, wrapping fresh bandages around his chest, she sat back, wiping her hands on her jeans. "Done," she said, her voice soft, her gaze lingering on him—scarred, battered, but alive, hers."Thanks," he said, pulling her onto the furs beside him, his arm draping over her waist, tucking her against his side. "Your turn.""My turn?" She frowned, but he rolled her sleeve up, inspecting the claw marks—three jagged lines, red and angry, the silver glow faint but present beneath the scabs. "It's not bad," she protested, but he shook his head, grabbing a wipe, cleaning it with a gentleness that belied his strength."Not taking chances," he said, his voice low, possessive, his fingers brushing her skin, sending shivers up her arm. "You're too important.""To the fight?" she asked, half-teasing, but his eyes darkened, serious."To me," he corrected, his hand cupping her face, thumb tracing her jaw. "Fight's part of it, but you—you're everything."Her chest ached, the bond flaring bright, and she leaned into him, resting her head on his shoulder, his warmth chasing the night's chill. "You're everything too," she whispered, the words slipping out, raw and true, and he kissed her forehead, lingering there, his breath a steady rhythm against her skin.They sat in silence, the lantern flickering, the camp's murmurs filtering through the canvas—rogues tending wounds, sharpening blades, planning for the war that wasn't over. Elara pulled the Lunar Covenant from her bag, opening it on her lap, the runes still faintly glowing, a mirror to the power in her blood. "We didn't break it," she said, tracing the text. "The Covenant—it's still there, but it's… different. I felt it shift.""Shift how?" Kael asked, his hand resting on her knee, fingers tracing idle patterns that distracted her despite the gravity of the question."Like it's mine now," she said, frowning, piecing it together. "Or ours. The bond—it's part of it. When my blood flared, it flowed through you too. We're tied to it—break or bind, it's our choice.""Ours," he repeated, his voice thoughtful, his hand tightening on her knee. "Then we break it. No more Darius, no more chains.""Maybe," she said, doubt gnawing at her. "But what if breaking it breaks us? The shift, the bond—what if it's all tied to the moon?"He stilled, his gaze searching hers, a storm of emotion swirling in the gold. "If it breaks us, we rebuild," he said, fierce, pulling her closer, his lips brushing hers. "Moon or no moon, I'm not losing you."She nodded, tears pricking her eyes, and kissed him—soft, lingering, a promise against the uncertainty. The bond wrapped around them, warm and fierce, a fortress in the dark, and she settled against him, the text forgotten for a moment as they held each other, the world outside fading to a distant hum.Lira's voice broke the quiet, sharp through the tent flap. "Kael, Elara—council. Now."They exchanged a look, reluctance warring with duty, and stood, Kael's arm around her waist as they stepped into the night. The rogues gathered by the fire—Gav, Ryn, Lira, a dozen others—their faces grim but resolute, the camp's survivors ready to plan. Lira nodded at them, her spear planted beside her. "Darius ran, but he's not done," she said, her voice cutting through the murmurs. "He'll regroup—Silver Claws too. We've got a day, maybe two, before they hit again.""Then we hit first," Gav growled, his hatchet tapping his thigh, his stump flexing as if itching for a fight. "Take the war to him.""Risky," Ryn countered, her gray eyes narrowing, her bow resting on her knee. "We're down numbers—need a plan, not a charge.""She's right," Elara said, stepping forward, the Lunar Covenant in her hands. "My blood—it's power, but I don't control it yet. The eclipse woke it, but it's tied to the bond, to Kael. We need time to figure it out.""Time we don't have," Lira said, but her tone softened, her gaze flicking to Kael. "What's your call?"Kael's jaw tightened, his arm tightening around Elara, his presence a steady anchor. "We fortify here—hold the camp, train, let her work the text. Then we strike—smart, not blind. Darius wants her; we use that. Draw him out.""bait," Gav muttered, a grin splitting his beard. "I like it.""Risky," Ryn repeated, but she nodded, her fingers tracing her bowstring. "Could work.""Then it's settled," Lira said, slamming her spear into the ground, a punctuation to the plan. "Rest tonight, work tomorrow. We've got a war to win."The council dispersed, rogues drifting to their tents, and Kael led Elara back, the night settling around them, the moon now bright, its shadow gone. Inside, they sank onto the furs, her head on his chest, his arm around her waist, the bond a quiet hum between them—stronger, deeper, a light in the dark."You're shaking," he murmured, his hand sliding under her shirt, warm against her spine, tracing the curve there with a tenderness that made her breath hitch."Cold," she said, but it was a lie, the heat of him stirring her, the memory of their streamside passion flickering in her mind. "And you.""Good," he growled, shifting her closer, his lips brushing her neck, a soft graze that sent shivers through her. "Rest now. Tomorrow's big.""Yeah," she agreed, curling into him, her hand resting on his stomach, fingers tracing the hard planes beneath the bandages. "Together?""Always," he promised, his voice a vow, his breath warm against her skin as they drifted into sleep, the war waiting beyond the dawn.