Chapter Text

IN the late summer of 2010, fifteen-year-old Adora Lilly Gray embarked on a high school trip into the rugged, mystical landscape of Arizona. This journey was no ordinary field trip; it was a rare opportunity for students from Bright High to visit Camp Half Moon and encounter one of the supernatural world’s most mysterious races: the Mountain Werewolves. Adora was accompanied by her closest friends, Glimmer Angle Moon, also 15 and a half-angel, and Bowman Archer, a human of the same age. As they ventured into the wilderness, excitement mingled with a touch of fear—the Mountain Werewolves were known to be reclusive and powerful, and only recently had they resurfaced from centuries spent underground.

The reemergence of the Mountain Werewolves marked a new era of cross-species interaction. For centuries, these wolves had isolated themselves in sprawling, hidden cities beneath the earth, spanning multiple countries. Known for their immense size, strength, and fierce independence, Mountain Werewolves had always been wary of humans, with many preferring the seclusion of their own kind. But the ruling alphas had recently decided it was time to reconnect with the world above, urging a peaceful coexistence with other supernatural races and humans alike. Camp Half Moon was their attempt at fostering this harmony, bringing together students from around the globe to learn about werewolf culture.

Among the Mountain Werewolves was nineteen-year-old Catranis "Catra" Bain. Tall, sharp-eyed, and carrying a hardened, mistrustful demeanor, Catra was the product of a difficult past. Years earlier, he had witnessed his mother’s death following a brutal attack by humans. This experience had scarred him deeply, instilling a fierce distrust of outsiders. Trained rigorously by his father, Carter Bain, and his uncle, Catra grew to become one of the most formidable young wolves of his time, his skills unmatched among his peers. Known as a loner with an impressive tracking ability, he had reluctantly joined his father and younger brother Crux at Camp Half Moon to assist in overseeing the human-wolf integration efforts. The werewolf elders kept a watchful eye on him, aware of his strength and his unpredictability.

One afternoon, fate intervened when a cruel prank by students from rival Horde High School sent Adora off course. As she followed what she thought was the path back to camp, she ended up on an isolated trail that led her into dangerous terrain. The pranksters had switched all the signs, and Adora unknowingly wandered deeper into Half Moon Mountain’s treacherous paths. Suddenly, she slipped on loose rocks, tumbling down into a ditch where her leg snapped painfully upon impact. Alone, surrounded by tall purple vervain flowers—a deadly plant to vampires—Adora’s situation was dire. As a HyVamp, a unique hybrid born of a human mother and a true Vampire father, the vervain was burning her skin, intensifying her pain and leaving her immobilized. Terrified and weakened, she cried out for help, fearing her end was near.

Back at the camp, Glimmer and Bowman quickly noticed Adora’s absence. Panic-stricken, they overheard Horde students whispering about their prank, and they immediately notified Crux. The young werewolf ran to his father, Carter, and the alarm spread through the camp. Carter knew the only one capable of tracking her quickly was his son Catra, who had already taken to the off-road trails. They waited anxiously, hoping Catra had caught Adora’s scent before nightfall descended over the mountains.

Drawn by her faint cries and her unique scent, Catra found Adora deep in the mountain’s shadowy terrain. Shifting into his half-wolf form—somewhere between human and werewolf—he approached her. His sharp gaze quickly assessed her injuries and the purple flowers surrounding her. Realizing she was part vampire, he acted quickly, offering her a small portion of his blood to heal her wounds. Though risky, his blood, infused with the power and slight venomous qualities of a Mountain Werewolf, could save her life. Adora drank, feeling an immediate, strange warmth as his blood coursed through her, healing her injuries but triggering a reaction that neither of them fully understood. A bond, subtle yet undeniable, began to form.

As Catra prepared to lift her, he instructed her to hold on tight. Despite her pain, Adora clung to him, feeling a peculiar sense of safety and warmth she hadn’t expected. His scent was intoxicating, dispelling the rumors she’d heard of werewolves being unclean and harsh-smelling. His strength, both fierce and gentle, left a lasting impression on her heart. Even as the venom from his blood burned, she held on, drawn inexplicably to this gruff, guarded young werewolf.

Arriving back at camp, Catra growled at the paramedics when they tried to take her from his grasp, placing her down only when he knew she’d be safe. He gave them strict instructions: she had ingested several drops of his blood, so they needed to administer the correct antidotes for both werewolf venom and the vervain. The paramedics followed his orders, and Adora’s mother, upon learning of her daughter’s rescue, embraced Catra in gratitude. Though he tensed at the contact, he accepted her thanks, his mind already churning with thoughts of the night’s events.

After ensuring Adora’s safety, Catra’s attention turned to the pranksters. Following their scent, he confronted them with fierce authority, stripping one of his arm markings—a symbolic punishment among werewolves—banning him from ever setting foot near the werewolf territories again.

Two weeks later, as Adora recovered, her mind kept wandering back to Catra. She’d never experienced such emotions before; the mere thought of him made her heart flutter. Her feelings confused her, yet she couldn’t shake them. Unknown to her, Catra too found himself drawn to her memory, though he dismissed it, certain that their lives, worlds apart, would naturally drift away.

However, destiny had woven their fates together that day on Half Moon Mountain, igniting the first sparks of a connection that would be tested by ancient rivalries, hidden secrets, and an undeniable pull neither of them could resist.

Chapter Text

The dark Arizona sky swirled with quiet intensity. A flier for Half Moon Camp tumbled along in the direction of the blowing sand, carried by a gentle wind. An ambulance raced past, and May Gray clutched her daughter Adora's hand, wiping away the dirt that clung to her skin. Adora's blue-gray eyes looked up at her mother.
"Mother, I'm fine," she reassured softly. "You know I'll heal; it just takes time because of the flower." Adora managed a small smile, recognizing the worried look on her mother’s face.

May’s safe, familiar smile faltered slightly. "I have to worry. My young child flew off a mountain, Adora. I’m allowed to worry. How could you not notice you were on a different path?" Her tone softened as she sighed deeply, attempting to keep her tears at bay. "You were gone for hours, baby. They called your father, and he panicked. He couldn’t rush out, so he called me, begging me to come and find you."

Adora watched her mother’s struggle with tears. Knowing how close she was to breaking, Adora leaned back, quietly listening as her mother recounted the ordeal. She explained how she and Adora’s father had been worried sick upon hearing she'd gotten lost in the mountains. She had wandered deeper into the woods than she'd ever intended, entranced by the beauty of the trees, flowers, and wildlife—things she'd only seen from afar during family trips.

Interrupting her mother’s ramble, Adora asked, "How did you get here so fast?" May gave a sheepish smile.
"Your sister flew me here," she admitted.
Adora closed her eyes, muttering, "I’m not weak. You didn’t have to come."
May took a deep breath and gently cupped Adora’s face, turning it towards her. "Look, sweetheart, your sister was scared too, so she helped me reach you. She’s faster than your father and brother. And I’m human, Adora. If I have the option to take a flight to check on my baby, I’m going to take it. I know you and your sister aren’t speaking, but—"

Adora cut her off, "She’s following the ambulance." She glanced out the window and caught sight of Mara trailing the vehicle, locking eyes with her for a moment before Mara winked and sped up. Adora groaned, burying her bloody hands in her face, thinking to herself, Never again am I playing the helpless baby vamp.
Her mother looked at her. “It's ok. Even if you two aren't talking at a moment, isn't it nice to know your sister still has your back.” Adora huffed “ she just wants to play hero, i'm surprised adam didn't jump at the chances” may sighed as adora shifted away from her as much as she could. Adora closed her eyes and let the weight of the

night take hold of her body now that the adrenalin was dying down.
The thought of Catras lean muscular arms grabbing her tight, she blushed but cleared her mind. She didn't have time to think of the very sexy werewolf that saved her. Even though her thoughts were pledged with the slight of his eyes, the magnetic blue and gold honey. She closed her eyes tight trying to fight. They thought from crossing her mind. A soft thud was heard at the roof of the truck and Adora already knew who it was and finally took a breath and decided that thought would be for another time.

May leens over and places her hand on Adora's forehead “ honey you ok, you're looking a bit red there and flush” may tell the driver to speed up and he tells her there about to arrive.
Back at the camp, all the teens were being counted and given food for their trip back on the Greyhound buses. The wolves’ eyes glowed, their vigilance intensified to ensure no further accidents occurred. High above, perched in a tree, Catra surveyed the area, his eyes flickering between hues of icy blue and crimson red. Below, Crux sat on the camp steps, watching as Catra’s gaze swept over the camp.

Crux’s father, standing nearby in the cabin, a simple but modern clean looking place that looked like a high end cabin compared to the outside, Carter spoke in tense tones with Adora’s father over the phone inside the cabin.
"I apologize for the worry, Mr. Gray," Carter said, "but your wife and daughter should arrive at the hospital in about ten minutes. I just wanted to keep you updated, and I’m truly sorry for the trouble."

At his desk, Ranger Gray leaned back with a deep, relieved breath. "Thank you for acting quickly, Carter. I know how dangerous that terrain can be, especially with the vervain plants blooming in full. I’m grateful the circumstances weren’t worse than they could have been."
"Absolutely, sir," Carter replied. "From what I’ve been told, Catra, my son had to act fast. He said he smelled the poison was moving fast and had just fully entered her blood stream and was reaching her heart quickly , and he had no choice but to use his blood to counteract it."

Carter took a moment. “ his blood” …
Meanwhile, back in the ambulance, Adora’s thoughts were clouded with the hazy aftereffects of Catra’s blood, mixed with her exhaustion and the pain from her injuries. But the memory of his piercing eyes, his careful touch, kept slipping into her mind, warming her despite herself.
Ranger Gray felt a twinge of panic as he leaned forward, already picking up on what Carter was about to say. "Is there any risk if some residue remains in her system?"

"No, well.. we're unsure, " Carter reassured. "Catra’s blood contains 'dynamolastin,' a rare mutation trait, its from an ancient lineage within are kind. It’s not toxic per-say , but its effects are unique, especially for those who aren't wolves this will be the first time a vampire would have ingested it or have it being used on them, I'm saying this so you can actively keep an eye on her. We’re still understanding its full impact on him, so just make sure the hospital carefully monitors her recovery."

Ranger nodded “ thank you, i'll make sure the supernatural council won't try to use this to hurt your efforts of rejoining society but this … trait your son has why don't you know more.”
Carter sighs and sits down on the chair at his desk and looks out the window, “ well because the last known wolf to carry the gene/ trait was maybe over about 2000 some odd years ago, and even though we've adjusted there are things we have not adjusted to like certain medical testing we just don't have so … are understanding is low in this nature”

Ranger nods “ ill test adora once she's back and i'll make this a private matter but i can look into it for you as well, as a thank you for saving her. Don't worry the council wont find out, i have my own labs
Carter thanks him,

Catra, who was perched high above, grinning slightly as he dangled a freshly caught deer from one hand. Crux scowled up at his brother, muttering under his breath, “Show-off.” With a slight roll of his eyes, he picked up the leg and began chewing, more to appease his appetite than anything else. Catra gave a snort of laughter, but his mind wasn’t really on the hunt or his brother; he was still thinking about the girl he had just rescued.

Even though he told himself to forget her, flashes of Adora's face kept surfacing, especially the way she had looked at him, wide-eyed and vulnerable. For a moment, he’d felt an overwhelming urge to protect her, an instinct so strong it left him questioning what, exactly, had transpired. Was it the impact of his blood on her, or something else entirely?

As he leapt down from the tree with ease, Crux, still sitting on the steps trying to listen in, yelped as a deer leg landed beside him with a thud. He rubbed his head and yelled, "Ow! That hurt, you ass!" Catra chuckled from above.
"Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?" he teased, his smirk widening.
"No. She’s dead." Crux rolled his eyes. Catra’s laugh was low and rough.

Their father’s presence caught his attention. Carter was standing on the porch, his arms crossed, watching him with a solemn expression. “Catra,” he said firmly, gesturing for him to come inside. With a nod, Catra followed, shutting the door behind him and feeling the intensity in the room as soon as he stepped in.

“Son,” Carter began, his voice low, “I’m proud of you for saving her, but there are things you need to know about our family’s bloodline that could affect the girl.” Carter glanced out the window, cautious of who might be listening. “Our blood—it carries ancient powers, yes, but it also creates bonds, even ties, with those who consume it. You need to be prepared.”

Catra bristled at his father’s words, though a part of him felt a flicker of fear. He had known about his unique lineage but hadn’t considered the risks of sharing his blood with anyone outside their pack, let alone a vampire. “So, what are you saying? That she’s… tied to me now?” His voice was low, almost a whisper, as if saying it too loudly would make it more real.

Carter nodded solemnly. “It’s possible. She may not feel it immediately, but over time, your blood may affect her thoughts, her emotions. It could even put her at risk if any other werewolves or supernatural creatures sense the connection.” He reached out and placed a heavy hand on Catra’s shoulder. “You’ll have to be careful around her, son. And around others who might notice.” Catra nodded his head.

He walks outside and crux is looking at him, he starts as he's about to talk. A large rock hit catra in the head which made him growl and wip his head up. His anger slowly dims. Nearby, a figure with fiery red hair and glowing blue eyes emerged from the shadows. She was slender and curvy, dressed in a red crop top and black shorts that showed off her tattooed legs. Taking a bite from the deer she held, River grinned, flashing her canines at Catra.

"Rocks now? We’re really lowering our standards," Catra said, fully turning toward her, his raspy voice teasing.
River met his gaze, her eyes brightening. "You look like hell. Did I miss the excitement?"

"A baby vamp fell off a cliff. I had to save her," Cruxs replied faster than Catra, who say “ yeah”dryly.
River’s expression grew intense. "How exactly did you save her?"

Rolling his eyes, Catra replied,"I told her if she sucks me off i'll save her life and she gave me the best head of my life " river eyes glowed.

“Well if this isn't my door to leave i honestly don't know what would be” crux says as he gets up and walks off dragging the large deer leg yelling to the other wolves. Lets eat
“I used my blood, alright? Don’t make it something else."

Catra says bring her attention back to him.
River walked up to him, her bloody-smeared face mere inches from his, a sly smile on her lips. Catra’s eyes glinted as he grabbed her neck, leaning in close.

“ You don't have anything to be jealous about, because we're nothing to each other to warrant such feelings. Plus, didnt i see you eating out ray the other day behind the waterfall…” he looks at her, his eyes looming with tension.

River tries to interrupt but Catra cuts her off “ her cries with your name on her lips says i can fuck or save anyone i want.” he smile down at her as her eye glow brighter.

"Remember," he said, voice low, "I belong to no one. So, how about dropping the power play shit it makes your type of crazy un-appling ."

River smirked, closing the space . "You smell different, though." She leaned in, inhaling his scent, her eyes dim in its brightness, River leaned in as she couldn't help but to press herself close, she opened her mouth around his neck and licked along his neck, tracing up to his jawline with her tongue before brushing it over his lips. "You like my kind of crazy sometimes," she murmured as she bit his lips. Catra looks up in the sky and smirks.

As Catra smirked, he leaned back with a chuckle. "And right now, I have a fire pit to set up." He moved away, laughing as River’s eyes narrowed, her wolfish grin reemerging as she growled and began to chase him down the path.

The hospital waiting room hums with a relentless buzz, the low murmur of voices mixing with the whir of machines and an undercurrent of tension. Bright fluorescent lights cast an artificial glow over everything, making the air feel sharp and sterile. Nurses and doctors weave through the space, their hurried footsteps echoing off the linoleum floors, while a distant monitor beeps steadily, adding to the sensory overload. Adora, a pale fifteen-year-old, perches on the edge of a stretcher, her leg twisted and sore.

She glances sideways at her mother, who sits close by with a look of silent worry, and then at her eighteen-year-old sister, Mara, who is glued to her phone, tapping one foot impatiently. Mara’s gaze flicks briefly over to Adora, softening for a moment as if reaching out, but Adora quickly turns away, folding her arms tightly as though to block out her sister entirely.

Their mother, May, sighs softly, catching the friction between her daughters. “Adora, your sister’s here to help. We almost lost you today, remember?” she says, her tone gentle but firm. Adora huffs in response, rolling her eyes and muttering, “I just slipped, Mom.” Mara lets out a dry, unimpressed laugh, finally lifting her gaze from her phone. “Your leg is twisted, and you were poisoned twice. Yeah, you’re totally fine,” she says, her voice dripping with sarcasm. Adora's jaw clenches, but she says nothing, staring at a blank corner of the room as though it might offer an escape.

Their mother bites her lip, torn between frustration and concern, as she clasps her hands tightly in her lap. Just then, a nurse arrives, guiding them to a private room, promising that the doctor will be there soon. As they move, the tense silence settles back around them like an unwelcome blanket, stretching on with every passing second.

The doctor stepped into the room, a tall, sharp-featured man with kind but calculating eyes. He held a clipboard under one arm and smiled at the small family. "Good evening," he greeted, glancing down at his notes. "My name is Doctor Potts. I understand you were given the werebite antidote as well as a dose of vervain antidote to counteract any side effects." He looked up, his gaze settling on Adora as he assessed her injury.

Adora’s leg was twisted, swollen around the knee where her jeans were torn and bloodstained from her earlier ordeal. Dr. Potts approached her calmly, snapping on a pair of gloves and reaching for a pair of scissors. “I’m going to cut away the denim here to get a better look, all right?” he asked gently. Without waiting for a response, he carefully snipped away the fabric, exposing her bruised and misshapen knee.

He crouched, studying the unnatural angle of her leg. “Now, Adora,” he began, “your knee has healed quite a bit, thanks to the person who saved you, but it isn’t aligned properly. Given the vervain in your system, your healing is temporarily slowed, so I need to re-break the joint to set it correctly. This is going to hurt, but once it’s aligned, your body should heal it fully within a day or so.” Dr. Potts looked over at her mother and Mara. “I’ll need your help holding her still.”

Adora’s eyes widened, and a pang of fear flitted across her face as Dr. Potts strapped her upper thigh and ankle firmly to the stretcher. Her mother took hold of one shoulder, while Mara leaned close, wrapping her arms around Adora's torso. “Just breathe, Adora,” Mara whispered, her voice soft but determined. “You’ll be okay.”

Doctor Potts positioned himself, his hands firm on either side of her knee. “Ready?” he asked, and, seeing Adora nod hesitantly, he tightened his grip. With a swift, practiced motion, he jerked the leg, a sickening crack slicing through the air as bone met bone, shifting and realigning. Adora gasped, her face contorted in agony as the shock reverberated through her, followed by a dull, relentless throb. Her fingers dug into Mara’s arm as her sister murmured reassurances into her ear, brushing stray strands of hair from her damp forehead.

But Dr. Potts wasn’t finished. With precise movements, he adjusted the kneecap and pressed down to secure the bones into place, each adjustment accompanied by another jarring pop or crack. The pain was raw and blinding, and Adora squeezed her eyes shut, a tear slipping down her cheek as she choked back a cry. It took nearly fifteen minutes for Dr. Potts to complete his work, each second stretching on as he cracked and pressed, each shift bringing her leg closer to its natural position.
Finally, with one last firm adjustment, Dr. Potts let go, nodding in satisfaction. “All done,” he said gently, wiping his hands as Adora’s breaths came in shallow gasps. Mara leaned close, pressing a kiss to her sister’s temple. “It’s over now. You did amazing,” she whispered, giving Adora’s hand a comforting squeeze.

Mara glanced up as her mother entered the room, then looked down at Adora with a playful grin. “So, can you fly yet?” she teased.
Adora rolled her eyes, huffing in frustration. “You know I can’t fly yet,” she muttered, crossing her arms as she tried to ignore the dull ache in her leg.

Mara chuckled. “Well, Dad can. He said he flew in and rented a car—should be here any minute now.” About ten minutes later, May’s phone rang. Ranger was outside, waiting for them. Mara gently helped Adora to her feet, supporting her as they walked, with Adora wincing at the lingering pain in her leg.

Adora sighed, shaking her head. “This is the human part I don’t like,” she muttered with a grimace.
Mara laughed. “Well, that’s just hurtful,” May teased, smiling as they both chuckled.

During the car ride home, Adora’s mind was looping in circles, with Catra as the pilot, causing her a headache and making her want to just fall asleep. May glanced back at her, noticing her weariness.

Her mother’s worried voice cut through her thoughts. “Adora, you’re shivering. Are you feeling alright?” May’s gaze was filled with concern as she reached over the seat to tuck a blanket around her daughter’s shoulders.

Adora forced a small smile, nodding. “I’m okay, Mom. Just… tired.” She leaned her head back, letting her eyes drift shut. But in the back of her mind, the peculiar sensation of Catra’s presence lingered, almost as though he was still close by, watching over her.

At camp, Crux, having overheard snippets of his father and brother’s conversation, felt a sudden surge of worry. He glanced over at the other werewolves, who were still keeping an eye on the students. Would they notice anything different about Adora once she returned? Would they sense that she was no longer entirely free from werewolf influence?
His mind raced as he mulled over the implications of his brother’s actions.

Chapter Text

The crystal garden stood silent, like a suspended dream, with water flowing across jagged rocks in an unhurried cadence. The glow from the suspended moonlight was dimmed by a gauzy mist that lingered, wrapping the trees in a spectral veil. The great purple columns of bark twisted upwards, their branches gnarled and ancient, seemingly frozen in a struggle to break free from the earth itself. The air here, still and oppressive, carried the scent of damp moss and timelessness. It was both a refuge and a prison, and Carter found himself trapped in its quiet, suffocating embrace.

He stood at the edge of the garden, his gaze fixed on the stillness of the water. He heard heavy footsteps approach him from behind, the little fish jumping in the water as the waterfall rushed down. 

Every ripple that disturbed the surface seemed a reminder of the internal conflict that had been eating away at him—the tension between his duty to his people and his family’s weighty burden on his chest. Carter used to be a leading lieutenant in the army of his people, but he gave it up to raise his young sons, who are now 19 and 13 years old. He had a beautiful wife with long brown hair and yellow eyes that looked like honey in the sun's warm rays. He remembered bringing her here when they met when he was just 20 years old and how they quickly fell in love and got married. He also remembered comforting her when she died and telling his eldest son, Catra, that it was still going to be okay even if his mother was not there. He held his son as he cried his little heart out, and how his brother had stepped up to help him raise both boys. Catra hadn’t talked for a year, but this is where he said his first words again when he was 9 and started to become the young man he is today—a strong and powerful figure, but still a loner who hates humans and is mistrustful of almost every person he encounters.

As the memories flew through his mind, behind him, Marcel’s presence loomed. His little brother was tall and built like a truck, solid and silent. The weight of his brother’s unspoken thoughts bore down on Carter like the pressure of the deep water that surrounded them.

“I understand she approached you, Gii’Ngy,” Marcel’s voice sliced through the silence, breaking the trance. There was no accusation in his tone, just a measured curiosity, yet Carter couldn’t help but feel the undertow of his brother’s hidden skepticism.

Carter didn’t flinch, though a slight furrow deepened on his brow. His eyes flickered sideways as he looked back to view his brother dressed in the traditional black turban, loose but fitting to his body, with a strap of weapons cast upon him. He still didn’t meet Marcel’s gaze, already knowing the judgment lay there. “It’s not what you think,” he replied, his voice low but firm. “She knows exactly what she’s doing. Gii’Ngy’s reach extends far beyond the council chamber. And even though we don't have a king or queen, she is the closest thing we have. Her family has served generations on the council,” Marcel stated, which is why we haven't evolved.

Marcel’s lips curled in a barely perceptible smile, but it was laced with cynicism. “Oh, I’m sure. It’s not what I think, but I also know she’s a woman who plays games of intricate chess, and you—Carter—are but one of her many pieces. What did she ask you?”

Carter’s muscles tensed involuntarily. “To be the Arbiter for the surface world, Marcel. You are her pawn; you know this, and you allow her to make such remarks,” Carter yelled back. “Do you think I have a choice, brother?” His gaze fixed on the dark horizon beyond the garden as his mind sifted through memories—and through the turmoil of recent events. “Do you think I’m a fool?” he said, turning to face his brother, his voice edged with quiet fury. “I know exactly what Gii’Ngy is offering. The Arbiter’s role is not one of mere title; they are creating a new governance system around it, one that not everyone is happy about. So she needs someone to be—”

Marcel cut him off. “A scapegoat, is what you’re looking for, brother. She is a master at moving and bending people to her will, and you are bending too much.”

Carter interrupted, “Be damned the consequences right now, no matter how weighty, because that’s how my brother thinks. Right? And look where it’s gotten him: no family, no friends, just workers and soldiers—ones you can’t even fully trust. Because you move without thinking. Do you know some consequences are irreversible?”

Marcel stood with a stone face, but it cracked as he listened to his brother. Carter continued, “I will make decisions that affect the very balance of our kind, and that’s a power that is not mine but is fed to me as a lie to think that it is power. When it’s a cage that they have wanted to put on me since somehow they found out.”

Marcel looked at his brother and touched his shoulder. “But at what cost, Carter?” Marcel’s voice softened but remained insistent. “You act as though you have no choice, as though the role of Arbiter is a great honor. But it's a double-edged sword. To be the one to decide the fates of our kind, to pass judgment, is not the solution. It’s a trap that places a nice causation on them so if you fail, they can say they will remove you, and she will be able to run things as she pleases.”

The words resonated within Carter, and for a fleeting moment, doubt threatened to disrupt the solid fortress of his resolve. He ran a hand through his hair and exhaled slowly. “I don’t expect you to understand. It’s more than just that of what you talk about, brother,” Carter muttered. “I’ve seen the destruction Gii’Ngy can orchestrate if left unchecked.” Marcel's face looked a bit confused by his brother's words. Carter continued to talk, “She believes the spirit wolf, the bloodline of Or’Ramas, will bring power that will break the system we as a whole have built. It’s like bringing a king to a ground of people who have run free their whole lives, but that power comes with a price. And she doesn’t want to pay it. If the spirit wolf is real, for all we know, it’s just a fairy tale.”

Marcel laughed, “Just as we’re supposed to be.” Carter chuckled, but a scowl still lingered on his face. Carter stated, “If I refuse, they’ll take Catra and they’ll … she’ll lock him away and drain every last drop if I say no, just to ensure he will not be what she thinks him to be.” This already confused him because he was still unclear how she found out about the mutation.

Marcel’s dark eyes flickered, a shadow of something more complicated than simple opposition. “But you’re not just fighting for your sons, are you?” he asked. “Because if that’s the case, we can run, hide, and live our lives differently.”

Carter cut him off. “Hide where? You don’t even want to live on the surface now; you signed to run and hide there,” Carter rolled his eyes and started to pace. 

He asked softly, stepping closer, his voice now deliberate, almost academic. “You’re carrying the weight of an entire legacy of Or’Ramas children and bloodline. The mutation that passed from man to wolf, born of a tragic love—a love so powerful it birthed the first shifter. That bloodline was considered extinct, gone, and yet it pulses within them—Catra and Crux. That’s what’s left of her, Carter. It pulses within Catra a little more than Crux, but it still doesn’t prove that he’s the one.” 

Carter’s jaw tightened, the historical weight of the truth settling over him like a shroud. He stepped back, his hands clenching into fists at his sides. “What are you suggesting, Marcel?”

“Nothing, as you think. My plan to hide is foolish,” Marcel replied. “I’m simply asking you to consider the consequences. Now, you and Catra are connected to something that should not exist—something dangerous. In their eyes, and now that they know she knows, you have to think like a man willing to fight, be damned; or one that will still fight but from within. Look at the first wolf, who became a man through magic, who transformed not by curse, but by love. Right? It swells bright through a bond—bond which Catra’s counterpart has nor will have.” Carter looked at him. “You can’t know that,” he said. 

Marcel laughed. “Yes, this is true. But the boy barely like his own kind. You think he’s going to like being up there? Look, this is something we need to think about together.” 

Carter shoved his brother back. “No, this is something I have to think about. This is my family.” Marcel made an angry face. “Don’t act like this is just for you. I also helped you raise them. I’m just as bonded to those boys as you are.”

“One that has left me scarred and broken just as it has marked you and those boys, and it doesn’t disappear, no matter how hard we try to forget it.”

“And you say that this is just your family, brother? You forget how I saved them—how I got Catra to talk after how I was also there for every sleepless night, every nightmare. How I dragged your ass from the salons and how I changed their diapers when you couldn’t. When you couldn’t even hold Crux for months, I did those things, brother. I helped, and now you act as if this doesn’t affect me as well.”

Carter shoved him. “Yes, this is my family, and I’m grateful, but I have to make the choice...”

Marcel laughed. “A fool’s choice is what you’re making. I don’t believe it was ever meant to resurface in this age, and now… and you allow these thoughts to be considered just because of Gii’Ngy. Carter, she is an old woman afraid of not being in power. And just like the old, she needs a cushion, and that’s what you are. You are meant to take them above, and you’re forced to change into things they don’t have to be.”

Carter’s mind began to churn as Marcel’s words settled deep within him. His wife, Or’Ramas, had once been part of this lineage—a lineage of unmatched power, thought lost to time. And Catra, his child, was now tied to that same bloodline.

A bloodline that could summon the spirit wolf—a being of immense strength, the leader of all shape-shifters, destined to command those who walked between worlds. Yet the spirit wolf was said to awaken only when its lover returned, but there was no trace of such a person. She/he would have to be of spiritual blessings and a human that was not a witch—just blessed. That love—the one that had been buried in the past—remained a mystery, a haunting specter at the heart of their family's curse.

Carter took a breath. “She told me you opened the gate for her that night,” Carter whispered, the words like venom as they slipped from his mouth. His heart clenched as the truth stabbed through him. “You allowed Or’Ramas to step into the world beyond our borders, thinking nothing of the consequences. It was that night that my family gained a whole…” 

“Enough, Carter!” Marcel interjected, his voice rising in frustration. “I know what you believe. You think you understand, but you don’t. Or’Ramas was being aided to see the stars. She said it called out to her, and she needed to bring her child. I told her not to cross the garden, and her choices were hers alone. You weren’t there when she left, when she went searching for something beyond this place. But you were there when we found her—barely alive, torn and broken by the surface world. I watched her die in your arms. After she gave birth, I watched as Catra struggled to grasp his new world. I was there.”

Carter recoiled as though slapped, the memory flashing vivid and cruel before his eyes. His wife—his love—brutally torn from him in that night of madness. He saw her body, half-conscious, bloodied and bruised, dragged into the garden by Marcel and his soldiers. His breath hitched as the agony of that moment tore through him once more.

“You think I don’t know what happened that night?” Carter’s voice dropped to a growl, laced with unbearable grief. “I saw it, Marcel. I saw my wife die. And my son—Catra—he saw … that moment that tore him apart.”

Marcel’s face twisted in guilt, his eyes averted as though the shame was too much to bear. "I didn’t know they would do that," he muttered. “I didn’t know that… she would die.”

“You opened the door!” Carter roared, his voice shaking with fury. “You opened the door, and I lost her! And now you think I’m supposed to stand here and let it all happen again? Have someone take another person from me? No—so yes, I have to take the job. I have to take this shit she throws my way because I can't afford to lose my son, Marcel. ​This isn’t just about power, or position, or whatever Gii’Ngy wants.​ This is about my family—the bloodline you betrayed the moment you opened the fucking gate and allowed my fucking son and wife to leave the confines of this land!”

The words hung in the air, heavy and accusing. But Marcel remained unmoved. He simply stood there, his face a mask of stone. "I didn’t betray anyone. I’ve protected Catra. I’ve tried to keep him safe. I have always kept them safe. And the one time I soften is the time something unthinkable happens, and now I’m to blame for what I’ve done. You can waste your life relying on me for years, and now you are the protector of your family? You think this decision will save him? It will destroy him, Carter. If you take this path, you doom him. Yes, he’s stronger; I’ve made sure he’s strong, but you act as though he is injured and can’t fight or stand for himself." 

Carter looked at Marcel. “He is my child. I will protect him.”

Carter’s head spun, the tension between them palpable. He turned away, unable to look his brother in the eye any longer. His heart pounded in his chest as his thoughts spiraled in chaotic directions. There was no easy way out of this.

The silence was thick when Carter spoke again, his voice low, almost to himself. “I’m not just doing this for Catra. I’m doing it for all of us, whether we want it or not. And I won’t let them take that from me. I won’t let them take my son.”

Marcel’s eyes narrowed, but he said nothing. He simply watched as his brother stood firm, making the decision that would alter the course of their family’s destiny. Marcel walked closer to him, getting in his brother's face. “You will regret taking this job—if not because of Gii’Ngy, then for Catra.”

Later that evening, in the cold, ancient halls of the Elders, Carter walked alone. The shadows stretched long against the stone walls, as if the very chamber itself were alive with its own secrets. Gii’Ngy was already waiting for him, her silhouette sharp against the dim, flickering torchlight.

“Carter Bain,” she began, her voice a low hum of power and control, "you’ve accepted the mantle of Arbiter. I trust you understand the weight of that decision.”

Carter’s gaze didn’t waver, his voice steady as he responded, “I understand perfectly. But I also understand that power is not given lightly. You want me to decide the fate of others, to pass judgment on our people. What do you expect me to do when the judgment is my own family’s?”

Gii’Ngy’s smile was a knowing curve, her eyes gleaming with something far darker. “You must understand, Carter. The Arbiter’s role is not one of mere administration. It is not about mercy. It is about control—control over what has always been ours to wield. You are the last. You are the leader of all who shift. You must decide: will you uphold the legacy, or will you let it die?”

The question hung in the air like an executioner’s axe, sharp and unforgiving. Carter stood silent, weighing the enormity of her words, the weight of a decision that could end or begin everything he had ever known.

Gii’Ngy’s smile widened. “We’ve made sure the camp is suitable for your pack. I suspect with you, you will take your brother; yes, but he won’t come right away.” She nodded in understanding. “I know not every wolf is happy with this, but it is for the best. We need trade and better resources if we want to grow...”

Carter looked at her. “Grow how?”

Gii’Ngy smiled at that. “As a whole—as a people. What I mean is, there are things we still don’t know, and we need to learn them because if we dig too deep, they may crush us. So we need them to know we’re here, so the camp is being called by the Martel and others—up to Camp Halfmoon. It’s boring, I know, but I still kind of like the ring to it. But I must warn you: do not be stupid. I will eliminate your whole family if you move or play stupid.” Carter nodded.

Later that night, as he walked home, Carter saw Catra sitting and reading, and he smiled. When he reached the top, Catra smiled at him. “Hey, Dad, Crux made stew!” 

Carter hugged his son and said, “Let’s eat then, shall we?” Catra made a face. “Unk is still not back.” 

Carter looked off to Marcel, who stood in the shadows, his green emerald eyes beaming from the slightly high cliff looking down. “Says he’s not coming.”

The underground city of Lykora lies deep beneath the mountainous ranges of the American West, centered under Arizona. This is not a singular city but a network of interconnected metropolises spread globally, forming a vast, underground society known collectively as The Lykoran Expanse. Over millennia, the Mountain Wolves of Lykora developed self-sustaining urban landscapes across continents, linked by intricate systems of tunnels and portals that bridge their cities across nations and oceans. Structure and Aesthetics of Lykora

Structure and Aesthetics of Lykora

The architecture of Lykora reflects the rugged beauty of the wolves' ancestral mountain homes. The city's buildings are carved directly from the bedrock, formed with polished obsidian, marble, and granite, illuminated by bio-luminescent mosses and enchanted crystal clusters embedded in the walls, giving the underground world a natural, ethereal glow.

At the city’s heart is The Elder Spire, an awe-inspiring citadel towering hundreds of feet within a vast cavern. It serves as both a government hub and a ceremonial site, where the Elder Council convenes. Designed with a blend of gothic and organic architecture, the spire appears as if grown from the rock itself, its spiraled towers and bridges lined with luminescent silver veins, symbolic of the wolves' connection to moonlight.

Surrounding the Elder Spire is The Lycean Garden, a lush expanse filled with plants nurtured by magical light and enchanted water systems, flourishing despite being cut off from the sun. Some of these species, native only to Lykora, are known for their medicinal and mystical properties. Ancient trees with silvery leaves grow here, symbolizing the wolves' longevity and resilience.

Cultural Foundations and Laws

The society of the Mountain Wolves is governed by a strict set of rules and traditions, evolved over thousands of years. The Elder Council, a governing body of twelve members, consists of influential pack alphas and dominant omegas who proved their leadership. This council shifts every century, allowing fresh perspectives to guide their progress while honoring their heritage. Every council change is marked by a grand festival known as the Cycle of the Moon, a month-long celebration involving feasting, storytelling, and ritual hunts to honor the council's new era.

The wolves’ philosophy is rooted in Harmony with Nature. Despite their hidden civilization's size and power, they employ advanced eco-magic and ancient techniques to minimize environmental impact. Waste is repurposed, water is purified through enchanted filters, and energy is generated by geothermal means, coupled with the power of magical crystals.

The Rejoining Project

In recent years, Lykora’s elders have determined that rejoining the surface world could bring new opportunities. In 2010, after years of deliberation, they approved The Rejoining Project. This initiative’s purpose is to gradually educate the surface population—beginning with youth—about their existence, culture, and lore, without triggering panic or hostility.

To this end, they established Camp Lycaea on the surface in Arizona,  also known as Camp Halfmoon, an immense, secluded area designed as a cultural exchange center. Here, young humans and supernatural beings alike can experience Mountain Wolf customs, participate in hunts, and understand their way of life. The camp features temporary shelters inspired by Lykoran architecture, but adapted for human use, and is equipped with both modern and enchanted technologies.

Political Tensions with the Surface Supernatural Council

Despite careful planning, not all supernatural factions welcomed the Rejoining Project. The Mountain Wolves’ vast population, a result of centuries of stability and seclusion, contrasts sharply with other supernatural species who faced constant battles with humans. As a result, the Surface Supernatural Council—a coalition of vampire, fae, and other supernatural leaders—resent the Mountain Wolves’ relative prosperity. They believe the wolves' re-entry threatens the delicate balance, especially as many in the supernatural community harbor mistrust and fear that such a large, powerful group could challenge their influence over surface affairs.

In the human world, relations with supernatural beings have been complex but stable. Over centuries, humans have come to live in a covenanted peace with supernatural beings, establishing governments and councils to manage laws and mediate between their societies. This peace, though fragile, has fostered a coexistence that the Mountain Wolves risk disturbing if their emergence appears too sudden or aggressive.

Giingy's Proposal for Surface Leadership

Recognizing these tensions, a dominant omega council member named Giingy has proposed a new solution. Giingy believes that the Mountain Wolves need strong representatives above ground to address surface conflicts and demonstrate their leadership. She suggests forming a "Five-Layer Pyramid" of power—a council of five leaders with a chief representative who would act as the ultimate decision-maker while receiving guidance from the others. This council would coordinate closely with the supernatural and human governments to ensure harmony. In the event of a severe crime or threat to stability, this council could consult with Lykora’s Elder Council and determine whether to recall individuals to Lykora.

Both the Surface Supernatural Council and human authorities have responded positively, seeing it as a balanced solution to manage the Mountain Wolves' re-entry without compromising peace.

The Need for Surface Governance and the Five-Tier Leadership Council

As the Rejoining Project gained momentum, Council Member Gii’Ngy , a respected dominant omega, raised a crucial concern: the Mountain Wolves needed a governing presence on the surface. With tensions high among humans and other supernatural beings, a structured leadership was necessary to maintain order and avoid conflict. Gii’Ngy warned that without a strong and visible leadership, both human and supernatural communities might see the Mountain Wolves as a threat, fearing that Lykora’s influence would disrupt their established laws and alliances. To prevent misunderstandings, she proposed a Five-Tier Leadership Pyramid to govern all Mountain Wolves on the surface.

The Five-Tier Leadership Pyramid

The new structure would feature five leaders at the top, each representing a different aspect of Mountain Wolf society and tasked with specific responsibilities. This five-tier pyramid would not only provide order but would act as a symbol of the Mountain Wolves’ power and cooperation with the surface world. Each of the five leaders would hold significant authority but would work collaboratively, supported by advisors who would aid in decision-making. Ultimately, however, the top layer would have the final say on critical issues, especially those involving potential threats to their people or the need to send offenders back to Lykora for judgment.

1. The Alpha Regent – Serving as the primary representative, this leader would act as the voice of the Mountain Wolves, engaging with both humans and supernatural leaders in diplomatic matters.
2. The Protectorate – Responsible for maintaining peace and security, this leader would oversee the safety of Mountain Wolves on the surface, organizing defenses and response teams if issues arise.
3. The Lawkeeper – An expert in both surface and Lykoran laws, this leader would ensure the wolves adhere to the rules of the above-ground world while upholding their cultural traditions.
4. The Envoy – Dedicated to building bridges with other supernatural and human communities, the Envoy would engage in outreach, arranging cultural exchange programs, and keeping surface tensions low.
5. The Arbiter – Acting as the final decision-maker for any disputes among Mountain Wolves on the surface, the Arbiter would hold the power to send severe offenders back to Lykora for trial by the Elder Council.

Establishing Peace with Human and Supernatural Governance

Recognizing the significance of this structure, human and supernatural councils were eager to participate, seeing it as a means to maintain harmony. In a landmark agreement, both the human and supernatural councils arranged for two of their representatives to sit alongside Mountain Wolf leaders in an Inter-council Alliance . This alliance would allow for shared insight into all matters involving supernatural creatures on the surface and ensure fair, balanced judgment in conflicts that might arise.

With this cooperative framework, the Mountain Wolves secured a place of authority and collaboration among surface leaders, building a foundation of mutual respect and protection. The agreement solidified their peaceful intent and marked a significant step forward for supernatural diplomacy, creating a network of trusted leaders who would work together to safeguard the interests of all beings—human and supernatural alike.

The Challenge of Balance and Future Prospects

While the Five-Tier Leadership Pyramid and Inter-council Alliance created a solid framework, both sides acknowledged that maintaining balance would be challenging. The Mountain Wolves would need to proceed carefully, ensuring that their growing presence on the surface did not cause friction or mistrust. Yet, this new structure held great promise, marking the beginning of a world where Lykora’s vast and hidden civilization could finally emerge, not as an unseen force but as a respected partner in the supernatural world.

The Future of Lykora and Its Influence on the Surface World

As the Rejoining Project progresses, the Mountain Wolves continue to expand and evolve, blending technology, magic, and tradition to support their world’s prosperity. The current council envisions a future where Lykora can serve as a bridge, fostering alliances and understanding between supernatural beings and humans. Yet, they are ever-vigilant, knowing that balance is delicate, and any misstep could lead to conflict with the surface world—or worse, expose their hidden empire to humanity.

Chapter Text

The gasping sounds of two people kissing fill the room. The bedroom walls are covered with pictures, trophies, drawings, posters of sports teams and pop bands. clothes, sneakers, and shoes tossed across the floor lay next to a giant white golden retriever-husky sprawled out. sun’s rays beam through the pink and red curtains, casting a warm glow across the room in the afternoon light.

A loud gasp is heard, followed by the subtle creaks of a bed. Two people kiss passionately, soft moans breaking out as the bed repeatedly hits the wall, the creaks growing louder. The light shifts, illuminating the bed as the couple continues, pulling at each other’s clothing, grabbing tightly to each other. She tilts her head back as he kisses and nibbles on her neck, his leg pressing against her clit just right, and her leg responding in kind, rubbing his bulge. 

His sharp teeth nic her neck as her head rolls back, her eyes fluttering open to reveal Adora’s,gray-blue eyes turning a vivid Blood-red, making the gray-blue burst around the iris look like a star within them. The man begins to shift the subtle cracks of his bone, not stopping the beast, from his ministration, his shirt tears as she aids it with her own nails scratching  down his back.

She watches him transform, feeling his hairs brush along her skin.as the beast sits up,His own multi-colored eyes matches adora’s, now a glowing reddish—ocean eyes, his blue and honey-amber fill with red just as adora’s each burst with in them reflecting the color they once were. 

He looks down at her intensely and deeply. His fangs lengthen, nicking the skin on his lip, and some blood rolls down onto adora’s, his face taking on an animalistic traits, yet still recognizably him. Adora’s breath says his name as she reaches for him “catra”.

Her  eyes roll back as he drags a claw down her shirt, ripping through it to reveal her ample chest as it raggedly rises and falls. She watches his hand trace down to her navel,then back up pink-nipples. As he leans in, she catches the scent of blood on his breath. He licks her neck with his long tongue, then kisses her, his tongue swirling around in her mouth as deep  moans break loose...

A blaring alarm goes off, snapping Adora out of her steamy dream. Her dog Swift licks her face as she jerks upright, pushing him away and spitting out the dog saliva. She was so turned on, her leg rubbed together, she can feel how wet she is, but now she feels close to throwing up. Swift’s tail is wagging furiously, slapping the floor as he barks at her.

Adora rolls her eyes. “Ugh, Swift, that was nasty. It was just getting to the good part…” she groans, flopping back onto the bed. She’s been having the same dream since he saved her. Well, maybe not the same dream, but close enough: sometimes it's in the woods, sometimes it's on a wall. She sighs, thinking to herself, as she slaps her face lightly. She wishes the dreams would stop—she's already lost several pairs of panties to them, and she can’t exactly afford every vibrator under the sun. She lets out a frustrated huff and rolls around in bed, exasperated.

Swift hops back up on the bed and starts licking her again. “Ugh, this is not the kiss I want, Swift. Get off!” she mutters, pushing him away and heading to the bathroom to get ready for her last day of high school.

She looks in the mirror, groaning at her bedhead. Just then, her bedroom door bursts open. “Sis, wake the fuck up or I’ll fart on your face! Oh, you’re up,” Adam laughs. “Mom made pancakes! Can’t wait till that honey butter hits my tongue, mmm.”

Adora rolls her eyes. “From gas to food, really? You have a twisted way of making food sound appetizing.”

Adam flops onto her bed, watching her. “What’s got you in a mood? We graduated yesterday, and today’s our last day as high-school students. Finally! I’ve waited my whole life for college! Ugh, I can’t wait—till I’m pinning Telly to the lockers and—”

Adora cuts him off by slamming the bathroom door shut. “I want you out of my room, Adam!” she yells from behind it.

Adam laughs, hops up, and tries to get their dog Swift to follow him out, which is easy since it’s morning and Swift is hungry. "Come on, buddy, let’s go for a walk. Or food! How about food? I’ll give you bacon.” Swift’s tail picks up speed, and Adam runs down the steps, the dog following eagerly.

Adora brushes her teeth, glancing in the mirror as memories of her dream come rushing back. She closes her eyes, stopping her brushing as she remembers his touch, her hand slowly moving up to gently touch her chest. Just as she starts to grab her breast, a knock startles her. Her eyes snap open to see her reflection—her eyes are red, with a vivid blue center that looks like a star.

The door is banged on again. “Adora, hurry up! We’ve got 30 minutes until we need to leave!”

"Okay,okay… I'm coming!" she yells back. When she looks in the mirror again, her eyes are normal. She spits out her toothpaste, hops in the shower, and gets cleaned up. After dressing in boot-cut jeans, a plain white crop top, a cropped red sweater,with white Converse, she rushes downstairs. Her parents, Ranger and May, are sitting at the table.

“Morning, sweetheart,” they say in unison. May adds, “You’ve got eight minutes,” and Ranger laughs. “What took you so long? Feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Adora replies, cheeks turning red. She quickly grabs two pancakes, pouring honey-butter syrup on them, and starts eating with gusto. “Just didn’t sleep much, that’s all…” she mumbles, mouth full. Suddenly, a loud slam of the front door catches their attention along with a burst of wind,then Mara appears rushing down the stairs.

“Sorry! I needed this top for my job interview today!” Mara says, holding the top and hurrying out.

Ranger chuckles. “She’s getting faster everyday.”

Adam pipes up, “I’m getting faster too, Dad. I’ll be faster than her in no time!”

Adora laughs. “Sure you will.”

When their parents aren’t looking, Adam sticks his tongue out at Adora and flips her off. She does the same back.

“Adora, really?” Ranger says, catching her.

“Dad, he did it too! Why always call me out?” she protests.

Ranger laughs. “Because Adam’s a lost cause.”

May smacks him. “Don’t say that about my baby.”

Adora and Ranger roll their eyes and say in unison, “Yes, Mom / Yes, dear.”

May shakes her head. “Okay, you two, time to head out.”

Adam stands up, holding his plate. “Hmm, maybe I want to fly to school. Adora, want to fly with me?” he asks, a mischievous grin on his face.

Adora’s face drops, and she scowls. “Leave me alone, Adam. Go fly; I’ll just drive.”

Adam laughs as he grabs his bag and says, “See ya,” then flies off.

Adora grabs her bag, walks outside, and gazes up at the sky with a soft look of frustration. Ranger walks up behind her and wraps an arm around her.

“Not all vampires fly, you know. Some run, some jump. Personally, I think you should let it go if you can only jump,” he teases. But the joke falls flat.

She looks up at her dad with tears brimming in her eyes. “I just want to keep up… They’re both leaving me behind. I'm barely a vampire. ”

Ranger hugs her tightly. “Sweetie, you’re just as much a vampire as they are—as I am. You just have a little more human in you.”

Adora wipes her eyes. “Maybe I have too much.”

Ranger holds her shoulders. “And that’s not a bad thing, Adora. Really, it isn’t. Sure, it feels hard now because you want to fly like your brother and sister, or even me. But that doesn’t make you any less of who you are. Look, I fell madly in love with a human, and not just any human. Your mother is rare—blessed by nature,” he says, smiling at her. “Which means you, my child, are blessed too.”

She smiles, and he continues, “So, what if you have a little more human in you? That doesn’t take away from who you are. You’re strong, you can eat both regular food and drink blood ,sometimes you can even see things from far away.” He chuckles. “Just give it time, and if it never comes, I need you to know that doesn’t stop you from being who you are: my beautiful, magical, blessed daughter, who is kind, caring, and brave. Please, focus on what you do have, not what you don’t. I promise, that’s worth so much more in the end, okay?” He hugs her tightly, and she hugs him back.

“I’m heading to school now. Thanks… I hear you, I really did,” she says softly, then heads to her car and drives off.

May hums as she comes outside, handing Ranger his bag and coffee. “That was a very nice speech. I think you nailed that dad moment.”

Ranger laughs, throwing his head back with a bright smile. “Yeah? You think so?”

She grabs his tie and says, “Yes,” kissing him deeply. He pulls back slightly, saying, “Honey, please, I can’t be late again.”

May laughs, grabbing his face for another kiss with a devilish smile on her lips, as he wraps his arms around her waist. “I thought you said you can’t be late,” she teases.

He hugs her tighter. “Well, maybe I can be a little late. Unlike Adora, I can fly.”

May chuckles and playfully slaps his chest. “You think she’ll ever fly?”

Ranger breathes out. “Honestly, I don’t know. She has until she’s twenty-five, so hopefully, she does. But I can’t really tell… She does have power, but it hasn’t shown itself yet, which worries me.”

May brushes her hand up and down his neck and hums thoughtfully, looking at him. Ranger smirks. “So, I think I could be, maybe, an hour late. Or two.”

May hums,” two.” she says leaning in and putting her full weight against him with a sly smile. “Yep,” Ranger says, picking her up and whisking them both into their upstairs  bedroom. He kisses her, and as May leans in for another kiss, when Ranger rips off his shirt to reveal his toned, scarred body. tHen tears May’s dress clean off, and she laughs. “Why must you always rip my clothes? I spent good money on that!”

Ranger grins. “My money.”

She smirks devilishly, and he glances at her. “For someone so holy and blessed, you may have a bit of a demon in you, darling.”

She smiles and simply says, “Not yet.” They both laugh as Ranger waves his hand, closing both the front and bedroom door. With a slam. 

Three hours later, May layed in bed, wrapped in the tattered blanket, watching Ranger get dressed. “See?” she said. “This is why you don’t rip things. Now I have to go shopping. look at you—it's taking you ages to get ready.”

Ranger laughed, fastening his tie. “It’s not like you made it easy for me to leave this time.”

May smiles as she gets up, catching his gaze. Her figure, her creamy olive skin and perfect curves, left him momentarily speechless. Smiling to himself, he said softly, “Still the most beautiful woman in the world.”

As she grabbed her towel, she turned to him with a playful smile. “And don’t you forget it.” She walked past him, heading to the shower, adding, “Can you believe we’re getting old?”

Ranger chuckled, “You mean, I’m getting old?”

May, turning on the shower,poked her head out. “I mean sure, both of us! Though, let’s be honest, I’m actually the only one aging baby,I'm in my 40s. You’re just pretending to look like this.”

“Not at all,” Ranger replied with a smirk. “I’m older than you, remember?”

May rolled her eyes as she stepped into the shower. Ranger followed her to the bathroom door, leaning against it. She looked over at him. “You know, it’s different for me.”

“I do,” he replied softly.

She sighed, “I know, I'm blessed. Ranger adds “the  shaman said you’d live longer than most. May simply huffs “ but Still, what happens when I’m truly old? Is what i'm saying”

Ranger shook his head, “Honey, I’m heading to work,now.” and made a move to leave.

May laughed. “Oh, you’re still running from this question, huh? I've been asking for it since I was 25, and I’m in my 40s now. Still no answer! Men—no matter the species—they’ll dodge the tough questions every time.”

Ranger chuckled, kissing her on the cheek before finally making his way out.

“Goodbye, honey,” Ranger said as he shut the front door, stepping into the crisp morning air. He decided to drive to work, craving a few moments of solitude. As he navigated the winding roads, his phone rang, displaying the familiar name: Dreyerly Labs. He answered quickly, hearing a familiar voice on the other end.

“Hordak here… Is this thing on?” Hordak's gravelly voice came through the speaker, muffled but audible.

Ranger chuckled, “Yes, it’s on, Hordak. Just tell me what you need.” He made a sharp turn, focusing on the road while listening.

“Sir, it’s about the blood samples,catra’s & adora’s” Hordak replied, his voice laced with an unusual seriousness. “I reviewed everything with Carter this morning, and, well… the samples were glowing. This morning, they just started to emit light.”

Ranger frowned, glancing at the phone in disbelief. “Why? What does that mean?” he asked, bewildered.

Hordak hesitated. “We’re not entirely sure, sir. Over the last few years, we’ve been gathering blood samples from both Catra and Adora, analyzing them to detect any potential issues in their DNA—especially if their blood interacts too long or if they share mutations. But until today, none of the samples have shown anything out of the ordinary.”

Ranger’s brow furrowed. “So why now?”

There was a brief pause before Hordak continued. “Well, it’s complicated. To keep it simple. This morning, while analyzing the red and white blood cells in Catra’s sample from a few years ago, Frapta noticed an irregular, almost… structured mutation to his blood cells. It’s as if his blood has evolved, defying typical patterns that include both supernatural beings and humans we’ve compared it to.and what we've noticed with His cells, it seems almost impenetrable, practically designed to evade any form of sickness or injury etc. The structure is so advanced that it might even explain his unique ability to shift forms at will, which would answer Carter's question from two years ago when he first changed without any need or aid for the moon, "His blood isn’t just different from ordinary werewolves; it’s beyond any known category of being we've looked at thus far.”

Ranger’s brow furrowed in confusion as he tried to piece together what he was hearing. “So, what you’re telling me is he’s some kind of… super-supernatural?” he quipped, smirking at his own joke. He knew it would go over everyone else’s head, but the humor made him chuckle under his breath.

He switched on his right blinker and merged onto the highway, accelerating to open up his car a bit. Traffic was building, and he sighed, glancing out at the thickening line of cars stretching ahead.

Clearing his throat, he refocused. “Anyway, what did Carter say when you talked to him? Did you elaborate on what you meant by ‘advanced’? Because right now, I’m not clear on how this new information impacts our understanding. It still feels… generalized.”

Ranger leaned forward slightly, squinting as he maneuvered through the congested lane. His expression grew serious as he looked back at the speaker. “Are you saying Catra’s blood carries… powers we’ve never encountered before? Or is he transforming into something fundamentally different? And how does this all connect to Adora? We need clarity if we’re going to approach this the right way.”

He paused, his gaze piercing, waiting for answers that might reshape their entire approach. On the other end, Hordak hummed thoughtfully. “Yes, I understand the gravity of your questions, sir. But I’m not finished. The truly peculiar part…” Hordak hesitated, his voice tinged with unease. “His blood has light in it. Not metaphorical light, but actual, glowing luminescence, as though his blood cells are charged with energy.”

Ranger’s eyes narrowed. “Light… like sunlight? Or some other potent force?”

Hordak nodded, his voice steady but cautious. “Precisely. This morning, Adora’s blood began to exhibit similar behavior. The glow doesn’t occur independently; it seems only to activate in response to proximity with Catra’s blood. When we placed samples of their blood in the same isolated chamber in the freezer, both samples emitted a glow. It’s possible that we’re observing some form of bioluminescence triggered by resonance between their unique cellular structures.”

At that moment, another voice cut in. “Good morning, Ranger.” It was Frapta, Hordak’s partner in life and science. “We’ve detected a multi-layered structure within Catra’s blood—something complex, inherently powerful, and interactive. It could explain why his and Adora’s blood reacted in the way they did, but the mechanism is still unclear.”

Frapta’s tone grew sharper, filled with urgency. “What’s perplexing is the resilience of these blood cells. Normally, cellular degradation is inevitable in stored samples, especially after a year, but both samples appear to be stabilizing themselves, almost as if they’re regenerating or ‘healing’ from within. We suspect this regenerative process is tied to their energy; however, we need more data to substantiate this. And, frankly, Ranger, without fresh samples, we’re operating on speculation.”

Ranger exhaled, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Look, I know we need fresh samples. But getting Carter to agree to the last collection was difficult enough. If I push too hard, he could shut down the entire operation and keep Catra out of reach.”

Frapta interjected, her voice firm. “Sir, these findings suggest we could be looking at a new form of blood resonance or cellular adaptation unlike anything recorded in biology. This isn’t merely a matter of genetic mutation. We’re potentially dealing with a molecular or even subatomic evolution—perhaps some form of symbiotic interaction on a quantum level that enables energy transference. If these samples are self-sustaining, it may indicate an adaptive energy field surrounding each cell.”

Hordak cleared his throat, adding, “We’ve already isolated trace compounds within both samples that seem to act as conduits for energy transfer. We suspect that these compounds form a type of bioelectromagnetic network, explaining why the blood glows when exposed to each other. If this is indeed what’s happening, then these blood samples could hold the key to an entirely new form of biological energy storage and transmission.”

Ranger’s eyes widened, understanding the implications. “So, what you’re saying is that we’re observing a kind of biological circuit? An organic energy network that might even be sentient?”

Frapta nodded. “Yes, sir. And it’s possible this network is responsible for not only the luminescence but also the regenerative qualities. But without fresh samples to analyze, we’re reaching the limits of what these tests can reveal. Outdated samples won’t provide insight into any recent changes, especially if new variables—such as environmental factors or psychological states—have come into play.”

Ranger sighed, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. “Give me a week,” he said, his voice edged with resignation. “Work with what you have, see if there’s any way to refine the findings without stirring things up. After that… I’ll go to Carter myself. I’ll bring Adora, check in on Catra, and we’ll see where this takes us.”

Frapta’s voice softened, but her words were precise. “Understood, sir. In the meantime, we’ll proceed cautiously with what we have. We need to understand this power, and we’ll do everything we can to illuminate the mystery of their bond. But we’re walking a fine line, Ranger. If this energy network is as profound as it seems, it could fundamentally alter everything we know about life… and evolution with supernatural beings.”

After ending the call, Ranger exhaled slowly, his mind churning as he dialed Carter’s number. Four rings later, the line finally picked up.

“Hello,” Carter’s voice came through, rough and tinged with irritation.

“Carter, we need to talk,” Ranger said firmly, jumping straight to the point. “We’ve picked up some… unusual readings in the lab today, from an old sample. I’ve pushed the team to maximize the data we have, but they’re asking for fresh samples from both Adora and Catra. Whatever’s going on—it’s evolving, and we’re beyond the point of guessing.”

A low, menacing growl rumbled from the other end. “Why is it,” Carter replied with a sardonic edge, “that every time you call, it’s never a simple ‘How’s the camp?’ or ‘How are you?’ It’s always this crap.”

Ranger knew he was walking a thin line; Carter’s patience with scientific investigations, especially those involving his son, was wearing thin. But he pressed on, undeterred.

“Look, I’m not exactly thrilled about it either, Carter,” Ranger said, his tone steady but urgent. “But we’re dealing with something beyond standard biology—this could be a new branch of biological interaction, even a unique form of genetic evolution. These aren’t just minor mutations; something is shifting on a foundational, cellular level, pushing what we thought were the boundaries of possibility.”

Ranger could hear Carter cracking his knuckles, the sound amplified through the speaker. Carter exhaled with an audible growl, a low chuckle following. “Everything’s life-threatening because it’s my son,” he muttered. “And it’s your kid too, Ranger. Fine. You can send your people here, but if they push too hard, I’ll deal with them myself. Make sure you’re here fast. And, by the way, we’ve got more wolves in the territory now. Space is tight, so you’ll need to find somewhere else for your team to stay until things settle down. The new buildings aren’t finished yet.”

A heavy silence lingered between them. Ranger let it settle before speaking again, a calm insistence in his voice.

“I’ll be there in a week,” he continued. “And I’ll handle the lab coordination personally. We’ll bring all the necessary equipment to you—lab kits, sterile containment, everything we need. That way, no one has to step out of line. My team is solid; they’ve been with me for years, and they’re here solely for science.”

A reluctant rumble of agreement sounded from Carter’s end. Ranger took a steadying breath.

“Look, Carter, please—let’s keep this civil. If the samples reveal what we suspect, it could be critical for everyone involved. We’re not here to intrude; we’re just trying to understand what’s happening to Adora and Catra. This is bigger than you and me.”

Carter’s growl softened, replaced by a gruff sigh. “Fine,” he said at last. “I won’t snap their necks immediately. Just don’t send them too early.”

Bright High School was a sprawling institution. Despite being called a high school, it served grades five through twelve, offering nearly every sport and club imaginable. This was where Adora met her friends, learned, and still somehow felt a strong urge to escape its walls. Now, everyone in her grade was buzzing with excitement. Adam, who was a year older than her, had been held back due to illness and missed too many classes. Though older, he still had all his friends—and his girlfriend, Teela, or “Telly” as everyone called her, a nickname that Adora and her friend Glimmer often laughed about.

As Adora walked to her locker, she could hear her friends bickering.

“What the hell, Flower Girl? I don’t wanna spend my last day of high school at some flower patch. Who does that? What is wrong with you people?” Mista rubbed her forehead, looking exasperated. “I swear, I’m surrounded by nerds.”

Nearby, Glimmer was pulling Bow in for a kiss, her hands cupping his face. Bow blushed, looking flustered. “Glimmer, why do you always have to kiss me in public?” he murmured.

Glimmer smirked, teasing him. “What, are you embarrassed by me?”

Bow shook his head furiously. “Of course not. I love you. It’s just… I don’t want my friends teasing me,” he said, glancing around sheepishly. Glimmer just laughed and hugged him, pretending to give in.

Sean, watching the scene with dreamy eyes, sighed, “Ah, young love! Bow, you’re lucky. You should want Glimmer to kiss you more. I wish my Mista would look at me like that.” He turned to Mista and, in an overly dramatic fashion, got down on one knee.

Mista slammed her locker shut, looking unimpressed. “That’s it. I’m out. You’re all weirdos. I’m going to the beach to smoke and chill.” She leaned close to Sean, her voice low and threatening. “If you follow me, I’ll drown you there. Got it?” With that, she walked off, only pausing when Adora called after her.

“Hey, Mista, where are you going?”

“I’m leaving! Call me if you can get them to stop being… well, them,” Mista replied, throwing a lazy wave over her shoulder as she continued down the hall.

Adora chuckled and looked over at the rest of her friends. Bow smiled and waved. “Hey, Adora! We’re trying to figure out what to do for our last day, but… well, no one can agree,” he admitted.

Fumma, another friend, chimed in, “Adora, you like flowers! Let’s go to the botanical garden for tea. I tried to get Mista on board, but she said she doesn’t want to deal with bees. I tried explaining that they’re just doing their job, but she wasn’t having it.”

Adora laughed, moving to open her locker, her gaze dropping to where Sean was still frozen on one knee. She bent down and patted his head. “You came on a bit strong there, buddy,” she teased.

“I just wanted to tell her I love her,” he sighed.

Adora patted his head again with a sympathetic smile. “Water sirens aren’t big fans of humans by default. The fact she lets you talk to her at all is progress. Just… dial it back a bit, and maybe she’ll look your way.”

Sean nodded, looking hopeful. “Okay…”

Adora shook her head, chuckling. “Alright, buddy. Good luck.”

Turning back to the group, she asked, “Hey, Glimmer, wanna grab some food? You guys figure out the plans and text us when you do.”

Fumma called over her shoulder as she walked off with a few other friends, “I’ll text everyone once school’s out!”

The group exchanged affirmatives, and eventually, Sean stood up, muttering, “I’m gonna go wait for Mista to text me.” Bow, Glimmer, and Adora exchanged glances and just shrugged, letting him go off on his mission.

The three friends headed down the hall together, ready to make the most of their last day at Bright High School.

The school courtyard was bustling. Everyone was talking, laughing, and clustered in various groups, while the line at the coffee cart snaked around, a testament to the morning rush. Glimmer spotted an empty table, and with a flash, she teleported over to claim it. Moments later, Bow and Adora squeezed through the crowd and joined her. They each settled in with sandwiches, coffee, and tea.

"So, what should we do?" Glimmer started, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I'm kind of feeling Mista’s idea about the beach. We don’t have to get in the water—just hang out and relax. Plus, I wouldn’t mind smoking a little something. Waiting for these college acceptance letters has me on edge." She glanced at Bow, waiting until he took a bite of his sandwich. Then, with a grin, she continued, “And, since a certain someone still hasn’t gotten around to railing me into the floor yet,so I need to decompress.”

Bow nearly choked, his face flushing a shade of red even visible against his darker complexion. He stammered, “Glimmer, this is neither the time nor the place—jeez!” He coughed, quickly grabbing his tea to steady himself. Glimmer and Adora exchanged glances before bursting into laughter, their laughter infecting the whole table.

Adora took a sip of her latte, shaking her head. “Honestly, I need to decompress too. These dreams I've been having… Today, I woke up so wet my sheets were practically glued to me. I shouldn't be this worked up—I mean, I've never even had sex! I’ve done other stuff, sure, but this is driving me insane.”

Bow, now thoroughly uncomfortable, hurriedly packed up his food. “I’m done. Can’t deal with this. It’s way too early for this,” he muttered, walking off in a huff. The moment he was out of sight, Glimmer and Adora dissolved into a fit of hysterical giggles.

"He’s so easy to mess with," Glimmer said, catching her breath.

“Absolutely,” Adora agreed, still chuckling.

Glimmer smirked, then casually mentioned, “By the way, Troy keeps texting me about you. Says he’s sorry and wants to talk.”

Adora’s smile faded, and she rolled her eyes. “Please. He cheated on me with Rachel—the school’s designated ‘bad decision.’”

“He says he did it because you wouldn’t sleep with him. Not that I’m defending him,” Glimmer added quickly, “but if you want to…you know, maybe you should just find someone else.”

Adora threw her hands up. “It’s not like that! I just want… someone real… someone like.” 

“Catra?” Glimmer finished with a knowing grin.

Adora’s eyes went wide. “Glimmer, come on! I don’t… I don’t even know him! It’s ridiculous to be dreaming about him like this.”

“It’s not weird,” Glimmer teased. “The guy is hot,He's really hot,plus he did save your life. That kind of thing sticks with you.”

“But that was years ago,” Adora sighed. “I haven’t seen him in almost four years. I was barely fifteen back then, and now I’m almost eighteen. I’ve barely even spoken to him since then.”

“Soon you’ll be legal,” Glimmer smirked, sipping her coffee. “That’s progress.”

“Oh my god, Glimmer, stop,” Adora groaned.

Adora rolled her eyes, but Glimmer just laughed.

“Adora, please. You’ve been having these intense dreams for years. You either like him, or you’re just...obsessing.” Glimmer paused.

“Look, if I were you, I’d be in Arizona every weekend, getting to know him instead of just...fantasizing.”

“It’s not always sexual,” Adora muttered, her cheeks flushing. “Sometimes, it’s just us sitting in a field, with him as this huge wolf that I’m petting.”

“Adora, please don’t tell me you’re on some ‘Twilight’bull-shit now,” Glimmer teased. “Look, I’m not saying you have to pounce on him the moment you see him, but”

Adora bit into her sandwich, focusing on chewing rather than responding.

Glimmer sat up strength and really looked at her,She shook her head. “You need to talk to him, Adora. You’re not a kid anymore. If you don’t face this, it’s just going to keep interfering with, well, everything. Don’t waste time just waiting.” 

Adora opened her mouth to respond, but glimmer continued. “If you're just going to sit around wet dreaming, don't tell me about another one of these dreams without actually taking a step forward, I’m not listening anymore.”

Adora stayed quiet, her fingers fidgeting.

Glimmer took another sip just watching Adora looking down at her hands. ‘Uhh you're such a big baby, how about you talk to another guy to see if you can actually try… glimmer stopped when adora’s made a disgusted face. 

Glimmer shook her head, “of course, what's the issue now” Adora just looked sheepishly. “It’s not that simple,” she said softly. “I don’t like how guys approach me. It’s like...”

Glimmer nearly choked on her sandwich. “That’s because they’re not Catra, and every guy you meet just reminds you of what you don’t want.” 

She took a deep breath. “Adora, you’re my best friend. You helped Bow and me through our weird phase, and I’m telling you this as someone who loves you: get your head out of your ass please. You look at guys with this icy stare and immediately retreat into your own world. Then, out of nowhere, you go red and act all...dreamy. You’ve got to figure this out. We’re not kids anymore, and the choices we make now will shape our lives. Let’s at least start adulthood without all this fantasy mess.” she waved her hand. 

cutting off Glimmer’s lecture. Adora opened her mouth to respond, but her phone suddenly buzzed. She glanced down, seeing her father’s name on the screen. 

“Hey, Dad. What’s up?”

“Hey, sweetheart. Adoras smiles, “I just got off the phone with your mother. I have some business up in Arizona, so I’m headed to Camp Half Moon this weekend. Thought you might want to tag along—maybe get in a little training in, and maybe even catch up with Catra, just to, you know, let him know you’re still alive.” He chuckled. 

Adora’s heart skipped a beat. She stammered, “Uh, yeah. Okay. Sounds great.”

“great.Love you, kiddo. See you later,” her dad said before hanging up.

As she put her phone down, Adora looked at Glimmer, who was already smirking. “Guess who’s going to Camp Half Moon?”

Glimmer beamed. “Well ,well would you look at that there is a god? ”

Adora rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t suppress the small smile tugging at her lips. She felt a flutter of excitement and wondered how he looked now that he's older.

Chapter Text

The car ride was relatively smooth, though Adora couldn't quite grasp why they had to drive all the way there. But they did. The 24 hours felt like the longest of her life. She kept her thoughts light, but truthfully, it was the time spent with her father that made it worthwhile. For a man who had always been busy, this rare opportunity to connect was something she cherished.

Her father was a vampire—born of pure Grandos blood, believed by humans to be the very first of his kind. And, as it turned out, they were right. As she gazed out the window at the beautiful landscapes rolling by, Adora couldn't help but listen to her father's story about his own youth. It was fascinating, yet unsettling. He often got lost in his tales, veering into odd, graphic details, forgetting, perhaps, that she was his child.

She tuned him out as his voice took on a strange tone, recounting the lore of his ancestors. He spoke of Jure, a peasant from Intinjin, whose cunning had once tricked many. But her father’s recounting of Jure’s story shifted into more disturbing territory. He spoke of his first sighting of Jure and how the vampire had been around for centuries. The conversation then turned to Dracula, a name she was familiar with, yet her father’s recounting was more nuanced. He revealed that Dracula was only the third generation of vampires, with the very first being Jure, followed by his son—both born of humans.

Adora listened, captivated by the history that seemed to weave its way through the fabric of their existence. It was a history older than her comprehension, yet she couldn't shake the unease of hearing her father speak with such casual authority about bloodlines and deeds long forgotten.

Ranger was laughing at a joke when he noticed Adora wasn’t looking at him, nor paying attention to his story. His chuckle faded as he raised an eyebrow, then smiled knowingly. "Did I bore you, honey, or is the sand and mantis outside more intriguing than your father?"

Adora turned to him, her cheeks flushed in a gentle blush. "Sorry," she murmured, her eyes meeting his.

His smile never failed to make her smile back. It was a smile full of warmth, the kind that always made her feel like everything would be okay, even if it wasn’t. Ranger shifted in his seat, glancing at her with a sheepish grin. "I know I sometimes drone on, but you gotta give me some leeway here. It's a lot of history to remember—easily forgettable for your grandparents, but I’m getting it. I know it’s probably boring," he added with a teasing glance.

Adora's eyes widened, and she shot him a look, catching the slight hint of guilt in his tone. She knew he was trying to guilt her into asking for more stories. But instead, she found herself flustered, unable to meet his gaze for a moment.

"Dad, no, it’s not like that," she said quickly, her voice softer, a little more vulnerable. "It’s just... I’ve got a lot to think about. You know, with college still hanging in the balance and all those letters... I haven’t gotten anything back yet. And, well... I’m nervous about seeing... uhh, the wolf too." She hesitated, twisting her fingers together, avoiding his eyes. "What if they all hate me because I caused them trouble last time? You know, stuff like that."

Her voice trailed off as she looked down, her stomach turning at the thought. “Maybe catra will be mad to see her or that he won't” The vulnerability was palpable, and Ranger could see the storm of emotions swirling inside her.

He sighed, his voice steady and reassuring. "They’re not going to hate you. Honestly, they probably barely remember you. Well, maybe Catra would, since you're the one he dodged to save him... and saved a lot of them since then." Ranger’s eyes softened as he glanced at her, his tone lightening. "You know, I personally think you never forget your first save."

Adora looked at him, her anxiety easing slightly as his words sank in. She could feel the reassurance in his voice, even if a small part of her remained uncertain. She smiled a little, her fingers still nervously playing with one another, but the tension in her chest loosened, if only a bit.

Adora looked at her father with curiosity, her brow furrowing slightly. "So, who was your first save?" she asked, her voice tinged with genuine interest.

Ranger paused for a moment, his eyes momentarily distant as if he was traveling back in time. A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Ah," he began, his tone softening, "that’s a story I don’t tell often. But I suppose if you’re asking..."

Ranger leaned back in his seat, easing off the accelerator as he shifted into a more leisurely pace. The air around them grew quieter, and a strange sense of nostalgia washed over him, as though he was being transported back to a time when he was younger. The landscape shifted from dirt roads to stone streets, the world outside blending into a dusty haze. Adora could tell he was trying to collect his thoughts, lost in the memory.

"It was a long time ago," he began, his voice tinged with nostalgia. "When I was just starting to get a grip on the whole 'acting human' thing. We still had to hide back then, you know? If humans found out, they’d hunt us down. Only a few humans knew about us back then. It's strange to think about how far we've come now, really." He chuckled to himself, shaking his head.

As they drove through the rural landscape, the roads were rough, and Ranger thought back to how people were just beginning to wear more put-together clothing—not quite like kings, but certainly no longer in rags. "It was a different time," he continued, "a time when everyone was still figuring things out, you can imagine, right?"

Adora let out a small laugh. "I don't know, Dad. You’re a little older than the place we live now. You’re ancient history."

Ranger laughed, a sound of easy amusement. "Yeah, I guess I am," he said aloud, glancing at Adora with a playful grin. His words made her laugh too, the lightness between them growing.

He cleared his throat and then began again, his tone growing more serious. "I grew up in the Lost Castle in Romania. My father took me from my human mother. He told me I would be the death of her, so he took me in with his many other wives. Raised me feral, you could say. I didn’t care for humans back then, but deep down, I still had this strange desire to blend in." He paused, his gaze drifting out the window as the memories washed over him. "It’s a strange thing, being what I was. I killed without thought, a part of me that always felt justified. But over time, I learned how to blend in, to walk among them without taking their lives. I went to events, not to kill or bed them, but to observe."

He chuckled softly. "But one night, I had just left a... let’s call it a meeting with a young woman. I was taking the back alley path when I smelled it—fire. It was blazing, and it would later consume the entire forest and four other towns. But I knew right away—this fire was magical. I could smell it in the air."

Adora listened intently, her curiosity piqued. Ranger continued, his voice softening as he spoke. "I heard crying, a child’s cry. Even though I hated them, even though I only cared to use them, I couldn’t ignore the sound. Children, they’re innocent. Always made me smile. I decided to follow the sound. I walked into the house, the heat so intense it started to melt my hair away." He smiled bitterly, as if still amazed by the intensity of the memory. "The roof was caving in, and I started tearing the house apart, searching for her. She was hiding under a metal tub, which was slowly cooking her. She was unconscious by the time I found her. The fire was so intense, I don’t even know how she survived."

Ranger’s eyes grew darker as he continued. "I ripped the tub off her, and she was covered in blisters from the heat. I carried her out of there, through the smoke and flames, and took her to the far edge of the town. There’s a cliff there, with a beautiful, lush forest, and an old woman I visited for years. She was a natural-born healer, someone who lived in the balance between nature and the supernatural."

He paused, a bittersweet smile on his face as he remembered the old woman’s reluctant help. "I begged her to save the girl, and she agreed, though she wasn’t fond of humans. But... she did it because even though humans hurt her, she knew that this girl, this child, was something different. She healed her, and the girl grew into a beautiful woman." Ranger’s voice softened with pride. "Her bloodline was long and strong."

He reached out and gently placed his hand on Adora’s face, smiling at her. "Her bloodline is beautiful," he murmured, almost to himself.

Adora, confused by his words, looked at her father with wide eyes. "But... she’s not my mother."

Ranger laughed softly. "No, she wasn’t. But she was your mother’s ancestor. I couldn’t help but keep an eye on her. I always hovered around, never intervening, not until I met your mother." His smile grew, the warmth in his expression deepening. "The healer, the natural-born of nature—she raised the girl, along with her children. Later, she married her son. I always thought that was how your mother was able to be born... blessed by nature itself."

He looked at Adora, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and tenderness. "See, no matter who you are, or who you think you are, you remember the first time you stand against everything in you to save someone. That moment, when you do something bigger than yourself. It leads to everything that comes after. It led to the love of my life... and it led to you, darling."

Adora sat quietly, absorbing his words. His usual confident demeanor had shifted, revealing something deeper, something human. She watched him intently as he paused, his gaze narrowing slightly as the memory took hold of him.

"I’ll never forget the look on her face when I pulled her from that fire," he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. "She was terrified. But the relief in her eyes when she realized she was safe... that was everything. That’s when I understood what it meant to be a hero. It’s not about glory, or thanks. It’s about that one moment of saving someone, and knowing you made a difference."

Adora met his eyes, her heart swelling with a mixture of awe and admiration. It wasn’t often that her father revealed this side of himself—this vulnerability that lay beneath the layers of strength and bravado. But in that moment, she saw him not just as the powerful, immortal being he was, but as a man who had lived, loved, and learned the true meaning of sacrifice.

Ranger looked at her and simply said, "Hell, they'll remember you, sweetheart."

Adora couldn’t help but blush, her heart swelling with emotion.

She sat back, her thoughts swirling, as his words lingered in the air. "Wow," she said softly. "I can’t imagine what that must have felt like."

Ranger gave a quiet chuckle, his smile returning. "You will, one day. 

Adora looked at Ranger, her brow furrowed. "Dad, I'm not saving anybody. I can't even fly."

Ranger glanced at her, then back at the road, a few moments passing in silence before he spoke. "I never once said I flew to save that girl. Just because you may lack in one place doesn’t take away what you can achieve. And I didn’t know werewolves could fly."

Adora raised an eyebrow. "I know werewolves can’t fly. What—"

Ranger cut her off. "I thought Catra saved you."

"Yes, he did, but—"

Ranger interrupted again. "Was he flying?"

Adora fell silent. Her father gave her a sidelong glance, his expression sharp. "Fighting isn’t what makes you capable of doing something great. So stop. I won’t raise someone who wants to play the victim all the time, especially when we’re still one of the highest on the food chain. So stop. Who the hell cares if you can’t fly? Sure, it would be great, and I’m not saying you shouldn’t feel a little disappointed. But you can still accomplish a lot without flying—if not more."

Adora sat there, holding her head low as her father scolded her. She didn’t argue; she simply nodded. "Yeah, you’re right, Dad. I’m sorry."

Ranger nodded, his tone softening. "Cheer up, we're here."

Adora looked up, her eyes widening. The camp had changed dramatically. What was once a few cabins surrounded by lush greenery had transformed into a full-fledged facility. To her, it looked more like a luxury resort now—with golf courses, archery ranges, massive hiking trails, and cabins that weren’t run-down anymore. They were like mini cabins and stone buildings, all recently reconstructed. Adora’s jaw dropped as they drove through, seeing the massive changes. Even the wolves looked different. Some were fighting, others were running, and there was a whole section dedicated to practicing fencing, archery, axe-throwing, and even some bike riding. Some wolves were playing soccer.

Ranger looked at her and chuckled. "Yeah, Carter made some small changes."

Adora let out a sarcastic laugh. "Yeah, just a few changes. This is a whole new place. Jesus."

As they approached the mountain, Ranger parked the car near the main cabin, which was labeled "Main House." Both of them exited the car and took a deep breath of the fresh air. Adora’s eyes sparkled with excitement. Just as she reached for her backpack in the car, someone shouted, "Hello, sir! You’ve finally made it!"

Ranger poked his head out of the car, pulling his bag from the back seat, and looked over to see Hordak standing there in a green button-up shirt and dark navy blue shorts, his pale skin nearly glowing, and half his face covered in sunscreen. Ranger smiled warmly.

"Glad to see you’re not dead, Hordak."

Hordak nodded with a grin. "Not for lack of trying, sir. Frapta has made this a bit more difficult, and the wolves... well," he paused, a nervous smile creeping across his face, "they’ve been a bit... testy since we arrived. I’ve been trying to get her to calm down, but she’s fast-paced."

Ranger smiled. "It’s alright."

Hordak’s worried expression tightened. "Uhh, sir, I don’t think it is. I’ve had to stop her a few times so she doesn’t get us killed."

Ranger couldn’t help but laugh. "Well, I guess we better get started, shall we?"

Hordak nodded and quickly re-applied some sunscreen. "Let’s do it."

Ranger closed the door of the car and walked around to Adora. He pulled her into a one-armed hug and said, "Hordak, this is my daughter, Adora."

Hordak smiled warmly. "It’s a pleasure to meet you, young Adora." He extended a cold, scaly hand, and she shook it, feeling the unusual texture of his skin. He just smiled at her, then leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. "Did you glow at all today, or experience anything out of the ordinary?"

Adora looked at him, confused, pulling her hand back instinctively. "What?"

Ranger awkwardly laughed. "Hordak, stop. We’ll talk about health later. Come on." He smiled at Adora. "Well, I’m gonna go find Carter. Just wait right here, please. I’ll be back in 20. There’s a public bathroom right there and some seating to the right if you want to be inside."

"Be careful, darling," he added, walking off.

Adora fixed her bag and made her way to the hammock on the main house’s porch. She settled herself in and pulled out a book, hoping for a few moments of peace to relax and enjoy the solitude before the chaos of the camp took over.

As Adora read her book, the full sound of a working, functional camp surrounded her—people talking, laughing, running, and playing. She listened intently to their voices, absorbing the rhythm of their interactions. She even looked up once to see a couple of wolves kissing, which made her blush and quickly look away. Her gaze shifted to the fountain in the center of the camp, where a beautiful wolf statue stood. The massive tail of the wolf looped around its feet, and as she took in the intricate details, her eyes caught the inscription carved into the stone: PRAISE THE SPIRIT WOLF. She muttered aloud, "Praise the spirit wolf."

Just then, the doors to the main house swung open, and she heard someone call, "Baby vamp."

The door slammed shut almost immediately, and Adora pretended she hadn’t heard anything. She kept her gaze focused ahead, but soon a pair of almost glowing honey-amber eyes caught her attention.

"Hey, I remember you," said a voice.

Adora truly looked at the person now. He was tall, with dark brown, slightly curly hair, and a gentle spread of freckles across his face. His smile revealed one of his fangs, and she felt her cheeks flush.

She met his gaze and, with a slight blush, responded, "I’m sorry, I don’t remember you."

He laughed, his tone light and friendly. "Well, we barely talked, but that’s beside the point. I’m Crux Bain. Nice to meet you." He extended his hand, and Adora shook it, still processing the fact that he was Catra’s brother.

Her eyes widened in realization. "You’re Catra’s brother?"

Crux nodded, a playful smirk on his lips. "Yeah, exactly. except I’m not 13 anymore though."

Adora blinked in surprise, then crux asked, "I’m assuming you came with your dad, right? Ranger comes here often when he and my dad decide to work on something, but this time I’m not quite sure what."

Adora furrowed her brow. "My dad comes here a lot?" she asked, genuinely confused.

Crux leaned against the column of the house’s porch, scratching his head. "Yeah, your dad comes up about every few months and stays for a week or two. I think your mom has come with him once or twice too, actually."

Adora’s eyes widened. "Why?" she blurted out before she realized what she’d just asked.

Crux shrugged. "Well, that I can’t tell you. Mostly because I don’t know, but anyone who does probably isn’t saying. Probably my brother will know but other than that i can't give you much information ."

Crux’s human ear twitched, and his eyes seemed to glow just a bit. Adora looked in the direction he was facing and noticed that some of the other wolves around them had started to turn as well. It wasn’t until she followed their gaze that she saw her father walking with a very scruffy-looking man. The man had wild, curly brown hair and a thick, long beard. His shirt was loosely buttoned, his pants were slightly loose slacks, and he wore closed-toe Birkenstocks. The outfit fit his vibe perfectly. Behind him were two other strong-looking wolves, one male and one female, each holding a woman who had long, pale hair. The pale man Adora had seen with her father earlier was with them, looking somewhat distressed. It was a sight she wasn’t used to seeing—usually, people begged her father for something, not the other way around.

"Carter, please, I’m sorry. She’s acting a bit frantic," Ranger stated urgently, his voice laced with concern.

Carter just kept walking, his pace quickening as he noticed his son. He put a little pep into his step, and the group followed him.

"Carter, are you even listening to me?" Ranger asked, his voice growing more impatient.

Carter stopped and turned to Ranger but called out to his son. "Hey, son." then turned back to start continuing walking to the house. 

a

Crux replied casually, "Hey, Dad. Is everything okay?... I was just talking with Adora here. She’s excited to see the camp."

Finally, Carter approached and stepped onto the porch. He smiled at Adora and said, "Hi, Adora. I’m glad you’ve grown into a beautiful young lady. Now, you and your father can leave knowing you’re deadly."

Adora smiled back, trying to hide her discomfort at the clear attempt to get her father to leave. "It’s good to see you too, sir."

Carter raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like a sir? I try to go for more of an academic look, but I’m not a sir, or just say my name or come up with a nickname maybe."

Crux laughed, rolling his eyes. "Dad, stop."

Ranger stepped in front of Carter, his voice firm. "Carter, please. I know she’s a bit different, but she’s smart, and I need her to help with what we need. I’m only here for the weekend, so please—"

Carter turned on him, his voice cold. "She’s been a fucking menace since she arrived. She burned stuff, exploded things, and is poking around shit she has no right to be touching. This is my people’s land. They deserve to feel safe, and she is a threat. There are fucking children here. I don’t care if she’s smart, because if she was truly smart, she would’ve respected her place."

Ranger nodded, his expression serious. "I know she caused trouble, and I’m sorry. I’ll keep her in line, Carter. She won’t put your people in danger again." His tone was measured, trying to calm the tension between them. "I understand this is a lot for you to process, but would you not want what’s best for your own kid, remember It’s not just your child to protect—it’s mine too. That’s the whole reason I brought her here."

Carter rolls his eyes.

Adora looked between them, her face filled with confusion. She was about to ask something when a simple wave of Crux’s hand caught her attention. He shook his head and placed a finger to his lips, signaling her to stay quiet. Adora nodded, biting her tongue and remaining silent.

Carter glared at Ranger, his expression hard. "If she goes into another restricted area, I’ll kill her."

Ranger, with a serious nod, responded, "And then I’ll have to fight you, Carter."

Carter smirked, his tone dripping with mockery. "It’s weird how you’ll let your daughter see you die, old man."

He strode inside, the door slamming behind him with a finality that left the air thick with tension.

Ranger took a deep breath and turned to the wolves. "Please take her to her post, and Hordak, keep her in line."

Frapta, standing nearby, looked at Ranger and simply said, "I don’t want you to die."

Ranger smiled slightly. "Then please, just stay where you're supposed to be okay then both of us will be fine."

Frapta nodded, and they walked off toward the toll house Carter had placed them in. The air between them was thick with unspoken thoughts, and after a moment, Ranger said to Hordak, his voice low and serious, "I’m serious. Stay in one place. Carter’s on edge. I don’t want to push him more than he already is."

Hordak nodded. "I’ll do better, sir." then hurriedly walked toward where frapta was being taken to 

After a beat, Carter stepped back outside and looked at the two of them. "Why are you still out here? I thought we were going to do the talking thing."

Ranger smiled tightly. "Give us a moment. I haven’t exactly explained myself to her yet."

Carter glanced at Adora, a smile creeping onto his face. "Catra’s on his way down from his hunt."

Ranger looked around. "How—"

Crux cut him off, grinning. "The forest animals are going back up since he’s coming down. He kills everything, so they learn to adapt to the new predator. Gotta love wildlife."

Ranger blinked, slightly taken aback. "Oh... um, well, can you give me a moment, please?"

Carter looked at Crux. "Tell him to come inside once he's down and you come back with him. I want you to also know." Crux nodded and walked off. He turned to Adora. "Don’t take too long." Adora just smiled as the doors closed. 

Ranger turned to Adora, offering her a slight smile. He felt the weight of everything settling in around them. This was just the beginning.

Ranger walked over to Adora and, in a quiet but firm tone, said, "Can we talk in the car, please?"

Adora nodded, her mind swirling with unanswered questions. She followed him to the car, the weight of the situation pressing down on her. Once inside, the tension between them was palpable. Adora couldn’t hold her thoughts in anymore. "Did I do something wrong?" she asked, her voice filled with confusion. "Why am I here? Who are these people? I don’t understand, Dad. And why do you come here so often? Why did you bring me here?"

Ranger sighed deeply, his fingers gripping the steering wheel as he stole a glance at her. "Okay, okay, okay, honey, stop. Let me explain."

He paused, gathering his thoughts, trying to find the best way to frame everything that had been building up. "Once you got hurt, I came down here to thank them, since your mother already did. And while you were recovering, Carter and I talked. He told me I had to watch over you—make sure you were alright. You see, after Catra saved you, because you consumed his blood..."

Adora’s brow furrowed in confusion. "So, what does that have to do with anything? He saved me—big whoop. So many supernatural people share blood. Why is this different?"

Ranger looked at her, his expression serious, yet calm. "Because Catra’s blood is different from most wolves. His... his blood is unique, more complex than others. It's not just about the blood itself, but what it does to those who come into contact with it."

Adora’s confusion deepened. "What are you talking about, Dad? What makes it so complex? It’s not like it gave me something weird, did it?" she interrupted, her impatience bubbling to the surface.

Ranger rolled his eyes, trying to remain patient. "I’m trying to explain, but Adora, you have to let me finish. Please. Just relax and let me tell you. I know you have questions, but let me answer them. I can’t explain everything right now, but this whole weekend, you’ll understand more of what I’ve come to understand, okay?"

Adora huffed, sinking back into the seat, crossing her arms tightly. Her father’s words were heavy, but she had no choice but to wait as he tried to untangle the web of complex information. The silence in the car was thick, each of them lost in their thoughts, struggling to bridge the gap in understanding.

Finally, after a deep breath, Ranger began again. "So, Catra’s blood is different. It has special properties within the makeup of his DNA. Now, most supernaturals have unique bloodlines—nothing too out of the ordinary. But Catra’s blood... it's more intricate. The way it breaks down, the markers within his DNA—they’re far more complex than what you’d see in typical wolves. If you look at his genetic profile, you’ll notice markers that distinguish him from his brother, from his father. It shows something unique about him, something Carter explained to me as a genetic mutation he’s had since birth."

Adora blinked, trying to keep up with the science, but the words felt heavy, like a puzzle she couldn’t quite piece together. "Wait, so you're saying his blood is like... mutated?"

Ranger nodded slowly, his tone serious. "Yes. And when that particular blood mixes with another, it changes the recipient's makeup. It’s a mutation that amplifies certain traits, but also introduces new complexities. The fear we both had when Catra saved you was that his blood might have intertwined with yours in a way we couldn’t predict. The changes were subtle, and for a long time, nothing seemed to happen. But about a week ago, when we did some routine checkups, things changed."

Adora’s gaze sharpened, sensing the importance in his words. "What changed?"

Ranger shifted in his seat, the weight of his words palpable. "When your blood and his were placed next to each other—or when they mixed—it started to glow. The reaction was... unexpected. That glow means something changed. It’s not something that happens with typical blood exchanges. It’s a sign that something has shifted between you and Catra’s blood. We don’t fully understand the effects yet, but we need to figure it out. It’s crucial for both of you to be safe, to live long, healthy lives without any unforeseen consequences."

Adora’s mind raced as she processed what her father was saying. Her gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, trying to make sense of it all. "So... that’s why we’re here? To figure out what’s happening to me?" she asked quietly.

Ranger nodded, the concern in his eyes deepening. "Yes. That’s part of it. But also, the reason I come here so often is to check in, to make sure things haven’t changed drastically. I need to make sure nothing is... evolving in ways we can’t control. And because of that, I have to make nice with Carter, who is, well, also a bit of a friend—although he won’t admit it."

Adora looked at him, her brow furrowed. "Carter? Your friend? But he seems—"

Ranger interrupted, his tone lightening slightly. "I know. He’s... complicated. But yes, I need to keep the peace with him because he’s the leader here, and I need to understand what’s going on with you. I know it’s hard to wrap your head around, but I’m doing this to protect you, Adora. Do you understand?"

Adora stared at her father, her mind racing to process the information. It was so much to take in, so many new revelations. "I don’t know, Dad. I... I think I’m starting to, but it’s a lot." She paused, looking out the window, trying to make sense of the complex web of science. 

Ranger sighed and reached over, gently squeezing her hand. "I know it’s a lot, honey. But we’ll get through this. Just trust me, and in time, everything will make sense. I’m here for you. Always."

Adora nodded slowly, still unsure of the path ahead, but feeling the weight of her father’s protection and concern. There was a long road ahead, but she was willing to take it.

"Okay, I trust you, Dad," she said, her voice steady, but there was an edge of determination in her tone. "But please, don’t lie to me, okay? From now on, because... well, to put it plainly, it’s my life, and I’m not a kid anymore." She looked directly at Ranger, her eyes intense, her maturity clear in her gaze.

Ranger smiled and nodded, a hint of pride swelling in his chest. His daughter was growing up, and though he could see the uncertainty in her eyes, he knew this moment was important for both of them. She was no longer a little girl; she was stepping into a new chapter of her life.

As they exited the car, Crux waved from a distance. "Let’s go inside. Catra’s down."

Adora nodded, but as she turned, she caught a glimpse of him . The full view of Catra hit her like a wave, and for a moment, she couldn't help but stare. Good God, was he sexy.

Adora’s POV
Let me recap this for you. The last time I saw him, he was tall, yes—skinny with a little muscle, generally hot, sure. But now... now he was a full-blown man. And oh boy, I could immediately tell. The boyish charm was gone, replaced with someone who looked like a predator in the best way. A man who could make anyone lose their mind just by walking into the room.

I was about to turn 18 soon, and the thought kept running through my head. I’ll be 18 soon... I’ll be 18 soon... I had to fight back the frustration. My 15 years to his 19 felt like a chasm, a ridiculous gap. But in the supernatural world, I quickly thought, does age even matter?

I also wondered, would he even want me? I mean, sure, I wasn’t a complete kid anymore, but I still had no clue about... certain things. Things that made me self-conscious, like... you know, down there . Still, I tried not to let that stop my thoughts. Men are... eww , I thought, shaking my head. I couldn’t let myself think that way about Catra—he was far from a basic man. No, no, no. But still... I couldn’t deny it. He was... damn sexy.*

A blush rose to my cheeks almost instantly as my eyes lingered over his figure. His muscular frame, the way his muscles flexed under his dark, caramel-colored skin, covered with freckles that made him look even more striking. His black ripped jeans clung to his toned, thick thighs, the rips in the fabric expanding as he moved. His arms, not overly muscular but perfectly toned, flexed with the strain of holding two massive moose heads. Blood dripped from his claws, the sharp tips pressing into the flesh, and I couldn’t look away as the blood traced down his forearms.

I licked my lips without thinking. The dreams I’d had, the fantasies I’d pushed aside—suddenly, they felt too real. Too close to reality. His presence was enough to make my knees weak. I couldn’t help but wonder if my body was giving off some sort of scent, as I watched the blood slowly trickle down his powerful arms.

I followed the line of his body up to his long, thick neck, which looked as strong as his jawline, sharp and defined. I traced his scar up his chiseled face, his high cheekbones and perfect jawline, and felt the heat flood my face. His eyes, glowing with an unearthly mix of blue and yellow, were the final blow. They were mesmerizing, impossible to look away from. His lashes, thick and dark, fluttered just enough to highlight those incredible eyes, framed by perfectly arched brows.

His hair was buzzed short, but I could see the faint scar tracing through the fade, a testament to whatever battle or life he’d endured. Catra was everything. And I was in trouble.

I didn’t even realize I was staring at him so hard until my father called out to me, a voice I almost didn't recognize. His words were distant, muffled by my thoughts.

"Huh?" I said, snapping out of my trance, and Catra simply chuckled. His smooth, deep, raspy voice made my heart race.

"Come inside," he said, his tone teasing.

I barely registered the words as I nodded in response. "Yes."

But just as I started to walk forward, Ranger's voice cut through the tension like a knife. "Adora, inside. Now."

I froze, a flush still painting my cheeks. Catra didn’t move from his spot; he simply watched me, his intense gaze never leaving me. I was sure I was as red as a tomato. The attraction was undeniable, overwhelming, and it felt like he could see right through me.

It wasn’t until Crux came over and playfully dragged Catra inside that the spell was broken. "Why are you looking at her like that?" Crux asked, and Catra shook him off.

"Fuck off," Catra muttered under his breath, his eyes still locked on me as he followed Crux inside.

Adora sighed, her head tilting to the sky. "Really, Nature? You didn’t have to go that hard... he was already good-looking enough."

As she walked toward the door of the main house, she couldn’t help but feel like her entire world was shifting. When she reached the door, her father gave her a quick glance.

"Are you okay?" he asked softly.

"Yeah, just peachy," she replied, her voice strained as she tried to shake off the flurry of emotions that had taken over.

Together, they entered the house, the air inside thick with anticipation.

Chapter Text

Adora couldn’t deny it any longer—Catra was intoxicatingly magnetic. His presence commanded the space around him, a quiet storm of confidence and raw masculinity that sent a rush of heat coursing through her veins. Her pulse quickened whenever her gaze drifted to him. He wasn’t the gangly boy she once knew. Catra had grown into himself—a man whose every movement exuded grace and power.

His physique was striking, sculpted with precision. Muscles rippled beneath skin that seemed to glow with vitality, every inch of him honed to perfection. The way his black, ripped jeans clung to his muscular thighs and the subtle flex of his arms as he moved made it nearly impossible to look away. Veins stood out against his dark caramel skin, tracing paths over taut muscles, while the freckles scattered across his arms lent him an unexpected softness. Tattoos etched along his arms and shoulders completed the picture—a balance of edge and artistry.

And then there was his voice—a deep, raspy timbre that resonated in her chest like a low, distant drum. It wasn’t just sound; it was gravity, pulling her thoughts apart and leaving her achingly aware of every sensation in her body. The mere memory of his voice was enough to leave her breathless.

This wasn’t just attraction. It was something deeper, something primal, as though he had rewired her senses to respond solely to him. The thought of him consumed her, leaving her thoughts scattered and confused. How could one person command such a reaction?

Adora shook her head lightly, forcing herself to focus as she followed the men inside the building. The main house doubled as a camp office, its modest lounge area outfitted with a bookshelf and a table littered with pamphlets and assorted boxes. It had the sterile efficiency of a workspace, with only one office and two assistants managing the front end. As they walked down a long hallway, past a dimly lit bathroom, her eyes kept darting to Catra. She caught herself biting her lip, her gaze lingering on the flex of his arms, the faint gleam of his skin in the hallway light. With a quiet curse, she turned her focus to the walls, determined not to let her thoughts spiral further.

At the end of the hall, a heavy metal door loomed. Carter reached for a key, its aged red surface resembling something ancient and ceremonial, almost like an artifact. Adora watched as he inserted it into the lock, and the metallic click echoed ominously in the stillness. She tried to suppress the fleeting thought that she might be walking into a trap. Her lips twitched into a sardonic smile, but she quickly schooled her features.

The door opened to reveal another hallway, this one leading to a seemingly ordinary front door. Adora raised an eyebrow, curiosity bubbling beneath her amusement. So many doors. If she didn’t know these people, she might’ve thought this was the setup for a murder mystery.

Carter gestured for them to enter, his tone polite but firm. “Please, take off your shoes. I don’t want any mud tracked inside.”

Adora complied, stepping into what could only be described as a modern rustic haven. The open-concept space was both functional and charming, with exposed brick walls, a massive stone fireplace, and plush furniture that radiated comfort. It was a blend of a cozy wood cabin and sleek, contemporary design. Her eyes wandered to the kitchen, noting the stone pizza oven and unique wood-glass backsplash. It was the kind of kitchen her father would have loved—a chef’s dream. A staircase off to the side led upstairs, stirring thoughts she tried to banish before they derailed her entirely.

They settled into the living room. Catra, Adora, and Crux took the couch, while Carter and Ranger occupied armchairs opposite them. Catra lounged back, his legs spread casually, one arm draped over the back of the couch. His fingers brushed her shoulder ever so slightly with each movement, sending her nerves into overdrive.

A heavy silence hung in the air before Catra broke it, glancing at his phone with an arched brow. “So… is anyone going to talk? Or are we just here to stare at each other?”

Carter sighed and turned to Ranger. “Why don’t you explain, since you’re the one who wanted this meeting.”

Ranger rolled his eyes, leaning forward as his expression hardened. “Fine. I’ll be the adult here.” His gaze swept over Adora and Catra, his tone growing sharper. “First and foremost, this is about what happened four years ago when you, Catra, gave my daughter your blood.”

Catra sat up abruptly, his jaw tightening as he opened his mouth to speak. But Ranger raised a hand, cutting him off. “Let me finish. Yes, I know you saved her life. Without your intervention, the vervain in her system would’ve killed her. For that, I’m grateful. But that doesn’t change the fact that it happened.” He paused, his voice lowering. “Your blood isn’t… ordinary. It carries a unique cocktail of mutations—some documented, others entirely unknown. By sharing your blood with Adora, you inadvertently passed those same mutations to her.”

Adora’s eyes widened, her attention now riveted on her father.

“For the past four years, those mutations have lain dormant,” Ranger continued, his voice steady but edged with urgency. “But they’ve disrupted her natural development. Her powers—whatever they are—haven’t progressed as they should. And now, the timeline is tightening. From her 18th birthday to her 25th, the window for safe activation has been open. But that window is rapidly closing. Once she turns 25, her body will no longer be able to adapt to the surge of power.”

Adora’s breath hitched, her mind racing.

“A few days ago,” Ranger went on, “a reaction occurred in my private lab. Your blood samples—both two years old—interacted in a way we’ve never seen before. It confirmed Carter’s fears. There’s a residual connection between your blood and hers. This reaction not only suggests a deep biochemical link, but also raises questions about how much of your blood remains in her system. That’s why I brought in my best scientists. They’re unconventional, but brilliant. We need immediate tests to chart the changes and determine a way forward.”

Catra stood abruptly, his voice sharp. “I get you’re worried, but I’m not here to be some; experiment. I did what I had to do to save her. And now you’re saying I might’ve killed her anyway?”

Ranger’s voice was firm, his eyes hard as he stood to meet Catra’s gaze. “Yes, unintentionally. And that’s why you’re going to help me. Because if she dies, Catra, I swear I’ll hold you responsible, and I'll kill you. Your father won’t be able to stop me; and by the time he does I will have already drained the life from your body.”

The tension was electric, silence stretching between them. Carter stayed seated, his expression unreadable, while Catra looked at Adora and back to ranger. Something shifted in his gaze—a flicker of guilt, determination, or something deeper. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and strained.

“Fine,” Catra muttered, shoulders stiff. “I’ll do it.”

Carter stood then, his tone brisk. “Good. Now that’s settled, boys, let’s get to carving that deer. It won’t gut itself.” Crux rose and followed him to the back, Carter’s heavy steps fading as Catra glanced at Adora one more time before following his father and brother.

Adora remained seated, her thoughts a whirlwind of fear, hope, and something she couldn’t quite name.

—

Catra’s POV

Their footsteps echoed heavily as they made their way to the back of the house. The silence between them was thick with unspoken tension. Carter opened the door, humming softly as his gaze landed on the two deer hanging from the rig of the porch. The metallic scent of blood lingered in the air, pooling in a bucket below. He inhaled deeply, as though the scent itself steadied him, his expression unreadable.

Crux stepped toward the table pressed against the house, shrugging off his shirt and jacket before pulling on a pair of black gloves. He tossed a set toward Carter, who caught them with ease, slipping a cap backward onto his head. His eyes flicked to Catra, a faint growl escaping his throat as he threw the last pair at his feet. Catra could feel the tension tightening around them, Carter’s demeanor practically daring him to speak first.

Leaning into his brother’s assumptions, Catra’s raspy voice cut through the air. “How many people have you told about me behind my back?”

Carter didn’t reply, focusing instead on the first deer as he readied his blade to start carving. Crux, sensing the storm brewing, quietly began moving the sharp tools closer to the deer and well out of Catra’s reach.

“The fuck are you so quiet for?” Catra growled, his tone sharper now. “You had no right to give that fucking vamp my blood. I’m not one of your lackeys. That was a complete breach of my trust, you son of a bitch. No wonder Uncle doesn’t come around. You probably pulled some shit like this on him too.”

Carter straightened slowly, turning to face his son with a cold, piercing stare. His voice, low and steady, carried the weight of his authority. “You know, son, you have a tendency to talk before you think. And let me remind you—I am not every person you talk to. I’m your father. If I need to remind you of who I am, just say the word. Because I don’t give a damn if you feel betrayed.” He stepped closer, his voice gaining a dangerous edge. “You think I care about your self-pity? Maybe one day, some poor woman will take pity on you, give you a kid, and then you’ll understand what it means to live a life constantly worrying.”

Carter took a breath, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t ask questions. You jump straight to anger. So let me spell it out for you. My head? My head is with my children—you and your brother. I thought about how you could drop dead at any moment because of what’s coursing through your blood. Do you even realize how dangerous your blood is? Do you even care ? You’re walking poison, Catra. Your blood could kill wolves, humans, vampires, fae—it doesn’t discriminate. And when you saved that girl, gave her your blood, without thinking—you didn’t just gamble with her life. You gambled with all of ours.”

Catra stood frozen, his father’s words cutting deep.

“When you told me what you did, my heart dropped. I thought I’d get a call from her parents saying she was dead. And you know what I thought next? I thought I’d have to fucking hide you from the vampire council—one of the most vicious groups on this planet. You think they wouldn’t come for you?” Carter’s voice rose as he began pacing, his hands clenching into fists. “And then I find out who her father is. Do you even know, Catra? Do you know her bloodline? She’s directly descended from Dracula’s line— his fucking granddaughter . The purest of the pure. And you think I’m overreacting? You have no fucking clue how much shit you could have gotten us into.”

Catra’s jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “It still doesn’t give you the right to hand over my blood, old man. You didn’t even think to ask me how I felt. No, you just did it. Now I’m finding out four years later that you’ve been taking my fucking blood and shipping it off to some lab for a fucking vampire to study. No one asks me shit.”

His voice rose, anger spilling into every word. “I have every fucking right to be pissed! You should’ve told me. Not let me be blindsided by them showing up here with their whole travel lab full of freaks, ready to study me like I’m some experiment. That doesn’t cross your mind, does it? You had no fucking right.”

Carter’s laughter was bitter, laced with venom. “You’ve got some nerve, boy. I gave it to him because he promised me something no one else had. Answers. I wanted to understand you—to learn about you. Why you’re so different. Why you eat differently, breathe differently, think differently. Why you’ve struggled. Your mother was the last of her bloodline, and every ounce of it went into you, not your brother. Do you think I wanted to betray you? I just wanted to make it easier for you. But you—you never think about that, do you?”

Catra’s voice cut through Carter’s tirade. “If I wasn’t different, you wouldn’t have to deal with this, huh? Sorry to disappoint, Dad. Maybe you shouldn’t have fucked some random bitch with no family. Some lost sheep because you wanted to fuck something. Isn’t that what you always say? Everything has consequences. ”

The slap came hard and fast. Carter’s hand struck Catra’s face with such force that four deep gashes opened along his cheek, blood spilling in crimson streams. Catra felt the tear of the claws as it went through his skin. He tasted the blood pouring into his mouth, swirling it thoughtfully before swallowing.

Crux froze, staring wide-eyed at his brother as the blood continued to drip from Catra’s face. Catra turned his head slightly, showing his bloodstained teeth as he smiled.

“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Dad,” Catra said slowly, his voice trembling with barely restrained fury. “And I don’t regret saving her.” He paused, his fists still clenched. “You never asked me why I did it, did you? Didn’t think to ask because you don’t care. You only care about the pack. About control.”

His voice softened, his haunted eyes meeting Carter’s. “That day—it wasn’t me, Dad. Something else called me. I didn’t choose to do it. Something made me. I was just standing there, frozen. I saw her fall. I felt her break—her legs, her back. I watched her struggle for air, for her life, and I couldn’t move. And when I finally could…”

Catra bit his lip, the memory of the shadows surging into his mind. He said nothing, his fists trembling.

Carter’s expression darkened, his voice sharp. “What do you mean, something made you? What are you saying?”

“Does it matter?” Catra snapped, his voice breaking. He tossed his gloves to the ground. “I’m done here.”

Carter’s laughter followed him, dry and mocking. “Isn’t that just like you? Always running. You wanted to talk, and when we finally do, you walk off.”

Catra rolled his eyes, turning on his heel and storming away.

After a moment, Crux spoke softly, his tone measured. “That was unnecessary, Dad. He wasn’t wrong. Maybe next time, try talking to him. Ask him questions instead of assuming you’re always right. Just because you’re our father doesn’t mean you know what’s best for us.”

Carter’s gaze snapped to Crux. “When did you and your brother get so damn mouthy?”

Crux shrugged, his voice dry. “The day you decided we’d live above ground.”

Carter huffed, rubbing his temples. “Fine. Let’s get started. I’m hungry, and so are they.”

Carter glanced at the bucket of blood and let out a breath. “Should we give them the bucket?”

Crux smirked faintly. “Why not? They’re probably starving by now.”

Carter chuckled, shaking his head as they turned to the task at hand.

Adora’s POV

Adora leaned against the back door, her mind racing as Ranger spoke on the phone in a language she didn’t recognize. His tone was sharp, his words hurried, and the tension in his voice only added to the unease settling in her chest. She shifted uncomfortably, the stillness around her growing heavier with every passing second. Finally, needing air—and perhaps a moment of clarity—she slipped on her shoes and quietly stepped outside. Closing the door behind her, she inhaled deeply, the cool air rushing into her lungs, grounding her momentarily.

Inside, the office buzzed with activity, though Adora moved quickly to avoid lingering eyes. She forced a polite, nervous smile whenever necessary, though her discomfort was evident. As she passed a tall, striking redhead whose piercing gaze seemed to follow her, Adora’s steps faltered. The woman’s sharp eyes made her skin prickle, a wave of unease washing over her. She hurried her pace, eager to escape the heavy scrutiny.

Adora didn’t know exactly where she was going—only that she needed to move, to think. But more than that, she needed to find Catra. There was something he hadn’t said, something heavy, and she knew he wouldn’t say it in front of his father. Determined, she pushed past several people, weaving her way toward the trees until the hum of the office faded behind her.

Stopping to catch her breath, she crouched low, her hand pressing against the cool earth. Closing her eyes, she let her heartbeat steady, her senses expanding outward. For a moment, there was only silence, and then, like a whisper carried on the wind, something within her stirred. The faintest suggestion lingered in her mind—a quiet urge to stop and feel, to breathe with the forest around her.

Adora inhaled deeply, and suddenly, the scents around her sharpened, becoming distinct. She could smell the bark of the trees, the damp earth, the crisp bite of distant water. And then—Catra. His scent hit her like a wave, wild and electric, sharp and alive. It was intoxicating and unmistakable, an intricate blend of raw energy and warmth.

Her eyes snapped open, and without hesitation, she followed it. Letting the forest guide her, she moved with purpose, her steps light and deliberate as she tracked him.

Catra’s POV

Catra moved through the forest with no clear destination, his mind a whirlwind of anger and confusion. The faint light filtering through the trees barely registered as he trudged forward, his thoughts consumed by the echoes of his father’s words. A low growl rumbled from his chest, frustration spilling out as he struck his own head with clenched fists, desperate to quiet the storm raging inside him.

The energy of the forest felt oppressive, pressing against him from all sides. His ears rang with its overwhelming hum, the vibrations making his head throb. He felt the blood drying on his face, the skin beneath tightening as it began to heal. The process burned, each stitch of flesh pulling together with sharp, relentless precision.

Hissing through his teeth, Catra pressed his clawed fingers to the broken skin, feeling the raw edges knit together beneath his touch. The pain was grounding, familiar, and for a fleeting moment, it subdued the chaos within him. He muttered to himself, his voice low and bitter. “You weren’t there to know... They wouldn’t let me help her until they were ready. They only let me move when they wanted...” He paused, his fists trembling. “Fuck. Fuck.”

The anger surged again, hot and electric, making his muscles tense as his body instinctively fought the urge to shift.

Then, with the sudden crack of a twig, the stillness shattered. Catra’s head snapped up, his hand ripping away from his face. The motion reopened the fragile wounds, fresh blood dripping down his cheek. His sharp gaze locked onto the figure emerging from the trees.

Adora.

Shock hit him like a blade, cutting through his fury. He stared at her, stunned, unable to comprehend how she had found him—or how he hadn’t sensed her approach. His heightened senses should have caught the faintest rustle of her steps, the shift in her scent as she neared. But they hadn’t.

“Adora,” he rasped, his voice low and uncertain. The intensity in his mismatched golden and blue eyes burned as he studied her, searching for an explanation. For a long moment, neither of them moved, the air between them charged with unspoken words.

His skin tingled, a strange fire igniting beneath his flesh as her cold, gray-blue eyes met his. It was as if she could see through him, reading him like an open book. For the first time, he felt hollow—like glass. His fists clenched tightly as she took a step toward him.

Adora’s POV

Adora’s breath hitched as she stepped forward, her eyes fixed on the blood streaking down Catra’s face. She wanted to speak, but the words caught in her throat. She had questions, so many questions, but she knew better than to push. Not yet. She needed to let him come to her, to be ready to speak in his own time.

Even from a distance, she could feel his pain—a sharp, searing ache that seemed to radiate from him in waves. It was so overwhelming it burned to breathe around him. But she couldn’t turn back now. She needed answers. Did he feel what she felt when he looked at her? Or was this some strange, instinctual pull—something tied to her blood?

And, if she was honest with herself, there was one question she couldn’t ignore. If she was in danger, if she were dying again—would he save her? And if he would...did she want to be saved?

Catra’s POV

Catra stared at her as the wind swirled through the clearing, stirring the leaves and kicking up loose dirt around them. The trees seemed to hum, their rustling leaves and the calls of distant creatures creating a symphony that filled the silence.

His voice cracked as he finally spoke, rough and raspy. “What... How did you follow me?”

His gaze shifted briefly to the ground before snapping back to her, the thought gnawing at him. How did I not hear her?

-

Catra’s POV

I know the face I’m making probably looks like I have two heads right now, but… shit. My skin feels weird, like it’s humming. I need to calm down or I’m going to shift. Fuck. Okay, okay… take a deep breath, close my eyes, and center myself. I can’t let this vamp bring out my wolf. If she goes running back to her father, she might say I tried to kill her or some other bullshit.

Peeking through my lashes, I glance at her. The way the woods frame her makes her look almost unreal. Without realizing it, both my eyes are wide open, just staring at her. The air feels thinner, but at the same time, more open than it ever has in my life.

She’s mesmerizing. Her skin is this creamy, milky color with a pinkish-red undertone that gives her the look of a princess—hell, she already gives off princess vibes. Her lips look soft. Shit. No, Catra, stop. She’s younger than you. You can’t touch her.

But my body isn’t listening. I feel my toes and fingers twitch just at the thought of her. Closing my eyes again, I try to smother the thrill running through me. I let the sounds of the woods wash over me, searching for an escape from these thoughts, but her voice—it’s like honey—pulls me back.

It stirs something inside me, something that makes me feel wrong. I shouldn’t like her. She’s a vamp. She’s younger. She’s human. I shake my head, desperate to let the serene woods calm me, but her voice consumes my thoughts, and I can’t even hear her words anymore.

“Catra,” Adora says, and her voice finally cuts through the fog in my mind.

It’s like the wind freezes, the world around me pausing as my eyes snap open and lock on her lips. They’re soft, full, and slightly parted. I can smell her nervousness—her scent is everywhere. The faint bite mark on her lip where she’s been chewing to calm herself, the press of her nails against her palm. Her striking blue eyes shine through her lashes like beams of light, and I swear time itself stops. Everything I’ve ever felt or thought seems to culminate in this one moment.

Adora’s POV

“I’m sorry for following you,” I say, my voice soft. “I just… I just wanted to talk, you know?”

“About what?” Catra asks, his tone low, guarded.

“About what you and your dad were talking about,” I say, fidgeting slightly. “I overheard… not that you were being particularly quiet to begin with.” I glance at him shyly, unsure if I’ve overstepped.

Catra’s lips quirk into a bitter smile. “Yeah, well, I’m not good at keeping quiet when I’m angry.” His gaze drops to the dirt around us, and instinctively, mine does too.

We stand there, awkward and silent, caught in a moment that feels too heavy and too raw.

“What is it?” he asks finally, his voice softer now, though his tone still carries an edge.

My head snaps up, surprised.

Catra’s POV

Good god, why is she happy?

I clear my throat. “What… umm… what exactly did you hear? Let’s just start there, kid,” I say, the word slipping out despite myself.

Adora rolls her eyes, her demeanor shifting instantly. “I’m not a child. I’m 18, Catra.”

“Still a kid to me,” I reply with a smirk. Her irritation is immediate, and it amuses me more than it should.

“I’m not a kid,” she shoots back, folding her arms defiantly. “And I’m pretty sure most kids don’t have these .” She gestures toward herself, a sly grin tugging at her lips.

I choke on air, blinking in shock. She’s trying to hold back a laugh, and I glare at her. “Very funny.”

“Well, am I wrong?” she teases, her grin growing wider.

Rolling my eyes, I sigh. “What do you want to know, Adora?”

Her expression sobers as she steps closer. “I heard him call your blood poison. Is that true?”

My jaw tightens, and I look up at the trees as the wind rustles the leaves around us. The words stick in my throat, but eventually, I force them out. “In a way.” I glance at her, gauging her reaction.

“I have what my people call Nero blood,” I explain. “It’s like a human blood type—some types can only accept blood from the same type, and others can’t mix at all. But I’m… somehow both. If I share my blood, I can kill. And you’re the only survivor who’s ever lived this long with my blood in their system.”

She blinks, processing my words. I expect her to be overwhelmed, but she doesn’t seem fazed.

“So why are you afraid to let them look at your blood?” she asks, her voice tinged with curiosity. “Don’t you want to change that if you could?”

I chuckle dryly. “Not really.”

“Why?” she presses.

The answer burns in my chest, a truth I don’t want to admit. “Because…” I hesitate, the words heavy on my tongue in my head. I say “It’s the only thing that makes me special,” which I finally say with my voice low. “I don’t care enough to want to change it.”

Adora’s eyes narrow, and she cuts me off sharply. “But I might die because of what you did. Don’t you want to help save the person you might've killed?”

Her words hit harder than I expected, i didnt even think I would care about her opinion, I squeeze my fist and I force a laugh. “I already saved you once. If I killed you after, it’s fine. It evens out.”

She stares at me, shocked, her lips slightly parted, and for some reason, her expression makes me laugh even harder. But it twists my gut. 

—---

Catra’s POV

Her pout is the cutest fucking thing I’ve ever seen.

Then I hear it—a noise from the bottom of the trail we’re on. The faint scent of blood mixed with dove soap brushes against me, tightening like a noose around my neck. I panic because I know what this means: River’s coming.

The wind picks up, carrying whispers that scream in my ear: “Take her away. Hide her. Hide her. Hide her.”

Adora’s POV

I watch as Catra ducks his head, his hands clamping over his ears. He drops to his knees, his expression twisted, before snapping his head up to look at me.

And then it happens. Loud voices—alien yet familiar—fill my mind: “Go with him. Go with him. Go with him.”

Catra surges to his feet and bolts toward me. I flinch as his hand grabs mine, and suddenly, we’re running uphill together.

Everything becomes a blur. No, literally a blur. I’m moving so fast on my own, my surroundings warp into streaks of green and brown. And then— oh my god —the scent hits me. Something divine, intoxicating. It’s overwhelming. I grab Catra’s hand tighter, and before I know it, we’re moving in sync, faster than I thought possible.

The trees blur past us, and I glance to my side to see Catra. His golden-blue eyes lock on mine, intense and burning. The moment shatters as my foot catches, and I slip—but before I can hit the ground, his arms catch me, sweeping me up effortlessly.

Now I’m in his arms, bridal style, as he races through the forest.

Instinct takes over. My nails grow, clawing at a nearby tree to redirect us, and then I grab his ear, shouting, “Stop!”

In one fluid motion, his entire body obeys, skidding to a halt.

I’m red as a tomato, holding onto his neck for balance. His heart pounds loudly in my ear, matching the racing rhythm of my own. My lips brush near his ear as I try to steady myself.

Catra’s POV

Her fingers are cold against my neck, but they warm me in a way I can’t explain. Slowly, I turn my head, meeting her gaze. Her blue eyes burn like ice, and the whites of her eyes seem to glow faintly, unnervingly.

I try to focus, but when I glance up, I see them again—those two fucking shadows watching us. Without realizing it, my claws extend, sinking into her side.

“Fuck! What the hell are you doing?!” Adora yells, her voice sharp in my ear. I drop her instantly and scramble up the small hill nearby, needing to distance myself from her and whatever’s happening.

Adora’s POV

The pain is sharp, hot, like fire radiating from where his claws pierced my side.

When he drops me, I land awkwardly and clutch at the wound, feeling the warm blood pour out faster than I can react. “Fuck,” I hiss under my breath. Pulling off my jacket, I lift my white tee and tuck it into my bra to try and slow the bleeding. That’s when I notice my thigh is bleeding too.

“Catra, I’m bleeding! Your claws stabbed me!” I shout, struggling to stand.

He’s not listening. Instead, he climbs higher, his eyes darting around the forest.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” I demand, frustration and pain lacing my voice.

Finally, he looks at me, his expression tight with guilt. “Shit. I’m sorry. I… I don’t know what happened to me.”

I stagger forward, but the blood loss makes my vision swim. Before I can fall, he’s there, steadying me.

“I’m going to take you somewhere. You’ll heal faster there,” he says quickly.

“Why can’t I heal now?” I ask through gritted teeth.

“It’s the air,” he explains. “The plants on the treetops release something. You’re breathing it in, and it’s landing on your wounds. It’s slowing everything down. I’ll fix this.”

Without waiting for my response, he scoops me up again and takes off running.

Catra’s POV

She’s heavier than I expected, but I don’t slow down.

“What are you running from?” Adora asks, her voice unsteady.

I hesitate, then mutter, “River. She’s… let’s just say she’s jealous. If she finds you here, she’ll want to kill you.”

Adora stares at me, wide-eyed.

“You’re going to have to learn to fight fast around here,” I add. “And build your immunity to vervain. Your human traits are strangling your vampiric side.”

“Trust me, I know,” she snaps. “But that’s your fault too. Your blood is overwhelming. It’s doing this.”

I chuckle softly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Please,” she says, her voice softer now. “Let them test your blood. I just… I want to get stronger. I’m tired of being weak.”

Her words hit me harder than I expect, and I hold her tighter.

“Fine,” I mutter. “Don’t say I never gave you anything.”

Her cheeks flush, and she murmurs, “This isn’t what I had in mind when I came here, but… I like being in your arms. I feel safe.”

“You’re heavier,” I joke, trying to lighten the mood.

“Fuck you! I thought I was a kid,” she snaps back, biting my arm hard.

I skid to a stop, dust kicking up around us. “The fuck do you think you’re doing?” I growl.

“I’m breaking skin, asshole,” she snaps. “Look at me! I’m gushing blood, and I ruined my new jeans because of you. Put me down!”

Sighing, I set her on the ground.

Adora’s POV

The moment my feet hit the ground, I take a breath, feeling my wounds start to stitch themselves back together.

“So, River wants to kill me,” I say, my tone dry. “Got a crush on someone I don’t know about?”

Catra laughs. “No. I saved you, and she said I smelled different after. She swears I changed somehow. She made it clear if I got too close to you, she’d leave me.”

“Are you going to get close to me?” I ask, teasing. “I don’t bite. Well, not that much anyway.”

His lips twitch into a reluctant smile. “Why would I risk the only woman who’s ever seen me for you?”

Without thinking, the words slip out: “Because I think you’re mine.”

My eyes go wide, and I slap my hand over my mouth.

He throws his head back, laughing. “That’s rich. Why would I belong to a vamp?”

“I don’t know,” I stammer. “I think I lost too much blood. Look, I just want to learn my powers and stop being weak. I don’t want problems with your ‘friend,’ but you’re going to have to help me. This is your fault anyway. My powers are coming in weird, and I need your help to figure it out.”

Catra’s POV

The air around us is thick with tension, but the view from the mountain’s edge is calm, the treetops stretching endlessly below.

I take her chin gently, tilting her face toward mine. “I’ll help you activate your powers. And I’ll show you how to handle the rest.”

Her face lights up, and she throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly. For a moment, I let myself lean into her warmth.

Ranger stands on the porch, staring into the woods. “I don’t know where she could’ve gone.”

Carter approaches, his hand heavy on Ranger’s shoulder. “She needs time. Let her find herself. Parents hovering over their kids doesn’t activate their powers. It stifles them.”

Ranger glares at him but finally nods, his shoulders sagging.

“Come on,” Carter says. “We’ve got to bring the deer back and start cooking. They’ll come back. Plus, River’s hunting.”

“That doesn’t mean she’s with Catra,” Ranger mutters.

Carter laughs deeply. “Oh, yes it does. I can smell her. Let’s just say mating calls are hard to miss.”

Ranger groans. “That’s something I didn’t need to know about my daughter.”

Carter’s laughter echoes.

-

River came striding down the hill, her hips swaying with confidence, her fiery red hair flowing like blood in the wind. Her eyes burned with a feral intensity as she scanned the scene, her presence commanding and sharp.

Leaning casually against a tree, Crux watched her approach with a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Found them,” he said with a chuckle, knowing the information would drive her insane.

“Fuck off,” she snapped, her voice dripping with venom. “He’s mine. I’m not letting some vamp steal him from me.”

Crux’s chuckle grew into a full laugh. “You must be amazing in the sack.”

River’s fury ignited. She whipped around, her eyes blazing, and charged at him. Crux moved swiftly, catching her by the neck and slamming her to the ground with startling ease.

He loomed over her, his grip firm but measured. “Calm down, River. She’s an outsider who won’t be staying long. If you push too hard, you’ll lose him for good. You’re barely holding him now. Your anger? It’s making it worse.”

River’s nostrils flared as her chest heaved with frustration. Tears began to spill from her glowing eyes, betraying the storm of emotions within her. Crux sighed and released her, stepping back.

“He’s not leaving you, River,” he said, his voice gentler now. “So relax. Don’t hurt the vamp.”

“Why?” she growled, her voice thick with desperation. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Because,” Crux replied, crossing his arms, “she’s my friend. And she’s going to be my brother’s friend.”

“He doesn’t need friends,” River spat.

Crux laughed again, shaking his head. “Yeah, he does. More than you know. He talks to no one about anything. She…” He hesitated, catching himself. “Just let it be.”

River glared at him but reluctantly pushed herself up. “Fine. I’ll play nice,” she muttered before smirking. With a swift movement, she tripped Crux, sending him face-first into the dirt.

Crux groaned, lifting his head. “Bitch.”

River laughed as they started walking together.

“I thought that when I saved you, I felt your powers,” Catra said, his voice low as he gazed out at the horizon. His mismatched gold and blue eyes flickered with a distant intensity. “I could feel them. You were definitely active when I saved you.”

Adora closed her eyes, breathing out a long sigh as she looked ahead. “Well, then I guess after the blood, it stopped. I haven’t felt any change in my powers since then. Which really sucks.”

“Sorry,” Catra murmured, his voice heavy with regret. He looked away, his jaw tightening.

Adora reached out and grabbed his hand, her grip firm. “Let’s sit for a while,” she said. “Then we can leave. I just… I want to look. Last time I tried, I fell and almost died.”

A soft laugh escaped Catra’s lips, and the two of them settled on the ground. The view stretched before them, a vast expanse of trees and sky meeting at the horizon.

After a quiet moment, Adora broke the silence. “What made you save me?” she asked, turning to him.

Catra hesitated, his gaze fixed on the trees. The question lingered in the air, heavy and unspoken.

“I heard what you said back there with your dad,” she pressed. “That something made you do it.”

Catra glanced at her sideways, his expression guarded. “I don’t know,” he admitted after a beat. “That whole day was weird. One moment I was fine, and then it was like… the forest was screaming at me.”

“Like the wind?” Adora asked softly, her voice a whisper carried by the breeze.

Catra nodded. “Yeah. In a way. I couldn’t control anything I did that day. By the time I was back in control, I was holding you at the base of camp, waiting for the ambulance to come.”

Adora tilted her head, studying him. “You seemed like yourself,” she said.

Catra laughed, the sound dry and self-deprecating. “You don’t know me that well. That’s why. But maybe you’re right. My dad didn’t notice anything either.”

“Or maybe,” Adora said, her cheeks flushing slightly, “you’ve never let someone really see you. Or know you.” She blushed deeper, unsure where her boldness was coming from but unwilling to hold back. “Which is something I’d very much like to do. And I don’t just mean the version of you no one knows. I mean the real you.”

Her soft laugh broke the tension, and she looked away, embarrassed. “I don’t dismiss the idea of you being controlled, either.”

Catra’s brows furrowed as he turned to face her fully. “Really?” he asked, his tone cautious but curious.

“Yeah,” Adora said, her voice quieter now. “Sometimes the wind talks to me, too. It tells me to do things. Sometimes it tries to force me. It never fully gets a grip, but it’s loud.” She melted into herself as she spoke, a nervous blush spreading across her face.

Catra’s eyes—one gold, one blue—locked onto hers. “That was the first time it got its claws into me,” he admitted. “I couldn’t control it. It was so loud. But…” His voice softened. “I don’t regret it. Adora, I’m glad I saved you. You were the first person I ever saved. It made me feel like, finally, I was strong enough to protect someone.”

Adora’s breath caught as she looked at him. She saw the faint sheen in his eyes, the emotion he was fighting to suppress. He blinked quickly, stuffing the tears down as he turned his gaze back to the wind-swept view before them.

Catra squeezes the dirt beneath his fingertips, his golden and blue eyes focused on Adora. Taking a deep breath, he says softly, “You’re not bad for a vampire.”

Adora chuckles, her lips curling into a small smirk. “You’re not bad for a dog. I’d say you’re actually a really good safety dog.”

They both fall into a fit of laughter, their voices carrying into the quiet forest.

Catra’s smile fades slightly as he looks at her, his tone becoming more serious. “About River… I’ll help you with the power stuff and figuring out how to get stronger, but that means I’ll be spending time with you. And that’s going to put a target on your back.”

Adora raises a brow, her amusement fading. “What do you mean?”

“She’s already picked up your scent,” Catra continues. “Which is weird, since you’ve never met. That means she must’ve memorized your scent from when it was on me years ago. Not good.” He chuckles darkly. “She’s like a rabid dog—territorial as hell. And I’m something she’s pissed on a million times to mark her territory.”

Adora’s expression twists in disbelief. “She pees on you?”

Catra bursts out laughing, shrugging. “She’s very in touch with her animal side. What can I say?” He smirks mischievously. “And she sucks dick so good.”

Adora yanks her hand back, rolling her eyes in disgust. “You’re disgusting, Catra!” she snaps, her voice rising as she shoves him away.

Catra collapses into a fit of laughter, clutching his stomach as he wheezes. “Your face—oh my god!”

Adora tries to suppress her own laughter, shaking her head in exasperation. “That is not what I wanted to hear! Like, at all.”

Still lying on the ground, Catra manages to catch his breath, his grin lingering. “Alright, alright. Relax. River’s not all bad. Once you get to know her, she’s a great person. She just has… anger issues. She doesn’t know how to be herself unless…” He smirks again. “…unless I’m inside her.”

“ Shut up , Catra!” Adora shouts, shoving him harder this time. “I don’t want to hear about how you fuck her!”

Catra rolls onto his side, laughing uncontrollably. “Look, it’s not like that! I’m trying to explain—”

“Then get to the fucking point already!” Adora interrupts, crossing her arms with a glare. “This is technically our first conversation , and I already know way too much about your sex life!”

Catra stops laughing abruptly, tilting his head at her. “Shit… this is our first real conversation, huh?” His voice lowers as he murmurs, almost to himself, “You’re easy to talk to.”

Adora pretends not to hear, but the soft smile on her face lingers, betraying her thoughts.

“Friends?” she says suddenly, holding out her hand.

Catra looks at her outstretched hand before taking it, shaking it lightly. “Yeah… I guess I could have a kid as a friend.”

“Fuck off, Catra. I’m not a kid.”

He smirks and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay. You’re not a kid.” A mischievous glint flashes in his eyes. “So… what was your first time like?”

Adora’s face turns scarlet, and she stammers, “None of your business! But he was probably a better lay than you.”

Catra’s brows raise, and a low hum escapes him as he looks at her, his eyes glowing faintly.

About thirty minutes pass, filled with laughter and teasing, the tension between them easing into something lighter. Adora’s stomach growls suddenly, breaking the moment.

Catra grins. “Alright, let’s head back. We’re about…” He looks around, assessing their location. “…45 minutes out. That run we did pushed us back pretty far.”

Adora cuts him off, holding her hand out confidently. “Then let’s run.”

Catra looks at her, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. Without hesitation, he takes her hand, and together, they speed off through the forest, the wind rushing past them like an exhilarating blur.

Chapter Text

  The dust leaped from the ground with every strike, each shattering impact sending ripples through the dirt floor, fracturing it like glass under pressure. The heavy, ragged breathing of two figures filled the tense air—sharp inhales mingled with gasps as one fought desperately to reclaim the ecstasy of breath. The wind howled through the trees, their branches trembling like restless animals awaiting the end of a battle. Even the earth seemed to hold its breath as the chaos unfolded.

Pale, blunt nails dug into the dirt, trembling fingers scraping at the ground as a bloody thread of spit dangled from her cracked lips. Adora coughed violently, the acrid taste of dust invading her lungs, tearing through her throat like fire. Each hacking spasm sent jolts of pain through her aching body, her muscles rippling under the strain of sheer willpower. Her blue eyes, dim and struggling to ignite their familiar glow, locked onto the offending plant that poisoned the air with its fumes. The realization hit her—someone had been grinding its leaves. Its crushed remnants lay scattered beneath her as the sound of approaching footsteps broke through the ringing in her ears.

Panic surged. Her body screamed in protest as she tried to scramble away, clawing at the ground in a desperate bid for escape. Before she could rise, a massive hand, tipped with long black claws, clamped around her neck. Adora’s nails scraped futilely at the dark, freckled skin as her strength waned. She felt every vein in her body burn as the air was cut off from her lungs, her wounds weeping crimson streaks onto the earth below. Her vision blurred, and tears streamed down her dirt-smeared face as she gasped out, choking on the weight of her desperation.

“Please…” she rasped, her voice breaking. “Stop…”

Her plea was met with cruel laughter. The deep, raspy voice that followed was as cold as steel.

“Stop?” he mocked, his words dripping with disdain. “I thought you were stronger. Only the weak beg for their lives. The strong embrace death in its coldest form.”

As his clawed hand tightened, ready to deal the finishing blow, another figure crashed into him with the force of a thunderclap, sending both bodies sprawling across the dirt. A guttural, menacing growl erupted from the attacker as he rose, fury radiating from his form.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarled, venom dripping from his words.

The newcomer, Crux, stumbled to his feet, his voice shaking with urgency. “Stop, brother. Look at her! She’s had enough of whatever this is. I can smell her blood from here.” He steadied himself, his wobbling legs a testament to his own exhaustion. The dust began to settle, revealing Catra, half-shifted into his natural form, his sharp eyes gleaming with menace.

Catra ignored him and strode toward Adora. He crouched down slowly, peering at her through narrowed eyes as she struggled to catch her breath, her body trembling violently.

“Are you alive?” he asked, his raspy voice tinged with amusement, though his smirk betrayed the sadistic pleasure he took in her suffering. “My brother seems to think you’re calling for death. Are you?”

Adora let her head drop, her forehead pressing into the dirt as she rasped through shallow breaths. “I’m…fine,” she managed, her voice shaking. “Just…preparing…for the next round.”

Catra chuckled, glancing back at his brother with a wicked grin. “See? She’s fine. Just a few cuts.” His smile darkened, malice dancing in his eyes.

Crux’s gaze flicked between them, disbelief etched into his features. Adora was anything but fine. Her body was riddled with gashes and bruises, blood pooling beneath her where she lay. Her breath rattled, wet with the telltale sound of a punctured lung. He could hear the faint crackle of fractured ribs pressing against her chest.

“She’s not fine,” Crux said, his voice firm but strained. “She needs to heal, or you’re going to kill her.” He turned his attention to Adora, his tone softening. “You have four broken ribs, a collapsed lung, and internal bleeding. It’s a miracle you’re still conscious. You need to stop—now.”

Before Adora could respond, Catra let out a sharp laugh, cutting through the tension like a blade. He crouched closer to her, his voice dripping with mockery as he cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze.

“You want to be strong, don’t you?” he said, his tone a sinister purr. “You want to be a good girl and get stronger? This is how you do it. And you’re doing a good job.”

Adora’s stomach churned, a mix of fear and something she couldn’t quite name twisting inside her.

Then, Catra dropped her chin and rose to his feet. He took a step back and barked, his voice cold and commanding. “Walk to me now, Adora, or stay here and die. I don’t train weaklings, and I have no use for one. Stand.”

Crux’s frustration boiled over. “She needs medical attention!” he shouted. “You’re acting just like Uncle Brynn—”

“Shut up, Crux,” Catra snapped, his icy glare silencing his brother. “That’s why I’m strong, and you’re weak. I don’t care what you think. Your presence here is unwelcome. Speak again, and I’ll make sure it’s your last word.”

Turning his attention back to Adora, Catra’s voice softened, though the threat remained. “Adora, stand the fuck up and come to me—now.”

Adora’s breath burned as she felt the sickening shift in her knee—a clear break. Tears streamed down her face, mixing with the dirt smudged across her skin. She stared into the vastness of the forest, her gaze unfocused, and drew in a deep, ragged breath. Every fiber of her being screamed in agony, yet she refused to collapse. Her lips trembled as she bit down hard, the metallic taste of blood pooling on her tongue, spilling over the edge.

With trembling hands and gritted teeth, she forced her body upright, dragging herself inch by agonizing inch. First, to her knees—the pain like molten fire coursing through every joint, every muscle. Her body begged for reprieve, but her resolve was louder than the protests. Her lips quivered as she bit harder, tears flowing freely, unbidden, while she braced herself for the next push.

The moment she tried to lift one leg, it felt like a sledgehammer crashed into her. Still, she pressed on, her breath coming in sharp, wet gasps. Finally, she wobbled to her feet, swaying like a frail reed battered by a storm. Every fractured rib and bruised muscle screamed in unison as she took a hesitant step forward, her broken ankle grinding under the strain. A strangled cry escaped her throat, but she bit it back, knowing if she fell now, she wouldn’t get back up.

Her eyes locked onto Catra. His face was a mask of unyielding stone, but his gaze burned with an intensity that struck her to her core. His eyes seemed to pierce through her, daring her, commanding her, challenging her to defy her limits. She wanted to please him, wanted to prove to herself that even in this broken state, she could still rise.

The memory of his words haunted her as she staggered forward:

"I’m not nice, Adora. I was trained by one of the best warriors of my people, and he showed me no mercy—even when I was younger than you. I will do the same. I don’t care if you’re a woman or younger than me. I will carve strength into your body and will into your soul. Diamonds are forged under immense pressure, and if you want to shine, I’ll break your first layer and start your journey. It will feel like I’m crushing you, but it’s the only way. We don’t have time for gentleness. We only have three days left.”

The words had ignited a fire in her, even as his fists had struck her relentlessly, as though sculpting her into something indestructible. Yesterday, he had beaten her until her jaw and arm broke. What infuriated her most was the knowledge that he was holding back, and she told him not to.

Now here she was, dragging her shattered body toward him, every step an agony that tore through her resolve and tested her pride. Each step forward felt like a lifetime. The burning air thick with vervain made every breath a battle, yet she pushed through. The broken bones shifted, her wounds tore open anew, but she kept moving. Her pride swelled as she approached him, her blue eyes dim but determined.

Catra’s expression remained stoic, but the faintest smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as she closed the distance between them. When she finally reached him, her body gave out, collapsing into his arms. He caught her effortlessly, arranging her battered form with care. Cradling her like a fragile thing, his hold was both protective and possessive. Her head lolled against his chest as his scent washed over her, grounding her in her last conscious moments before darkness claimed her.

“She passed out,” Catra said flatly, his voice steady but tinged with something unspoken.

“I’ll take her to the far edge to breathe some fresh air.”

Crux's voice cut through, his concern sharp. “Why not take her to—”

“She won’t always have a medical crew at her beck and call,” Catra snapped, his tone biting as he glanced over his shoulder. “Her body needs to learn to trust itself, to fight, to heal. She wants strength, and her body has to understand what that means. If we coddle her, she’ll never learn to endure.”

Crux stepped back, his brows furrowed in frustration. “She’s not healing right—her ribs are broken, her lung is collapsed, and she’s still bleeding. Do you even care what this looks like?”

Catra stopped in his tracks, turning to face his brother with a cold, cutting glare. “You don’t understand what I’m doing. You’re too weak to comprehend it. So stay out of it, runt. Or stand in silence. Either way, your presence here is unnecessary.”

Without waiting for a response, Catra adjusted Adora in his arms, his steps deliberate as he carried her toward the edge of the clearing. His voice softened, almost to a whisper, as he muttered to himself, “You’ll thank me one day, Adora. Strength comes at a price, and I’ll make sure you’re ready to pay it.”

Crux watched them disappear into the trees, his fists clenched, helpless against the growing rift between them.

When Crux returned to camp, Adora's father, Ranger, approached him with Carter close behind. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air, undeniable and thick.

"What’s happening? Where is she?" Ranger demanded, his voice edged with panic.

Crux gritted his teeth, trying to suppress his irritation. "She’s fine," he said flatly. "She and Catra are training. They’ll be gone for hours—he took her to the far edge."

Carter nodded, placing a firm hand on Ranger’s shoulder. "Come on, then. Let’s head back to the lab."

Ranger hesitated, glancing back in the direction where Adora and Catra had disappeared. "I can smell a lot of blood... Is she really okay? It’s fine to tell me if they went too far. I won’t freak out."

Before he could finish, Carter cut him off sharply. "They’re fine. Go wash up, boy." He gripped Ranger’s arm and tugged him forward with authority, signaling the conversation was over.

As they neared the lab, Carter’s tone softened slightly. "You need to stop asking questions about whatever they’re doing. That look she gave yesterday? It wasn’t regret. It was determination. She chose this, Ranger. She’ll push herself through it. And she picked the hardest teacher for a reason. She knows exactly what she’s getting into."

Ranger frowned but stayed quiet, his unease palpable.

Carter continued, his voice firm yet understanding. "She’s different, Ranger. That means she needs to learn differently. You have to let her grow, even if it’s brutal. You’ll be amazed at what she becomes if you step back and give her space to blossom."

He paused, his expression thoughtful. "I know you think I don’t understand, but I do. Catra was trained by my brother. That man’s a demon in battle—a relentless, unforgiving warrior. He started training Catra when he was just eight, beating him into the ground over and over. And every time, Catra got up and hit harder. Now? Catra’s one of the most formidable fighters alive. Adora is learning from someone who was forged in fire. She’ll emerge as something magnificent if you let her."

Ranger stopped in his tracks, his face conflicted. "But—"

"No buts," Carter interrupted. "Trust her. Let her walk her path. If you don’t, you’ll only hold her back."

Hours passed. Catra stood at the edge of the forest, the cool wind brushing against his skin. The earthy scent of the woods filled his lungs as he leaned against a tree, his sharp eyes scanning the horizon. It had been three hours since they arrived, and Adora’s healing had finally begun. The slow, agonizing process had started taking shape about thirty minutes ago, and now, her wounds were nearly closed.

A rare smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He thought back to his own training when he was just twelve.

"Listen, boy," his uncle’s voice boomed like thunder, "power isn’t something you find. It’s something you earn. Think of power like a person. If you barely know them, why would they trust you? Why would they follow you? You must build that trust. And just like earning someone’s trust, you must earn power’s respect.

"Not every man with power is powerful," his uncle continued. "Some only wear the illusion of it—a facade. But real power? It starts with trusting yourself. Believing that you deserve it. Believing you can handle it without breaking."

Twelve-year-old Catra, bloodied and battered, nodded fiercely despite the pain coursing through him. His broken arm hung at an unnatural angle, his small frame trembling with exhaustion.

"You want power?" his uncle sneered. "Then you must build your body to hold it. To bear its weight. To endure. Even if you don’t yet know what that feels like."

Before Catra could respond, his uncle grabbed his broken arm, hoisting him into the air by it. The boy screamed in agony, tears streaming down his swollen face, before his uncle hurled him across the field. He hit the ground hard, the impact knocking the air from his lungs.

"Stand, boy!" his uncle roared. "Or stay down and die before dinner is even made!"

Catra’s body screamed in protest, his knees buckling, his vision blurred. But he forced himself up, tears mixing with dirt and blood. His arm hung uselessly by his side, but he staggered forward. Step by agonizing step, he pushed through the pain, his uncle’s mocking laughter ringing in his ears.

When he finally reached his uncle, the man looked down at him, a flicker of pride hidden behind his stern gaze.

"Throw me like that again," young Catra hissed through gritted teeth, "and I’ll claw your arm off and eat it."

His uncle chuckled, barely able to hide his amusement. "The goal, boy, is to beat me one day. Then to lead—"

"I don’t want to lead!" Catra interrupted, his voice hoarse but fierce. "I just want a do-over. To be stronger. Strong enough to save someone like her one day. That’s all I care about."

His uncle’s laughter echoed through the field, but the pride in his eyes was unmistakable.

Catra snapped back to the present as Adora stirred. Her breathing was shallow, but she was healing. He smirked, watching her resilience take form.

"She’s stronger than she knows," he muttered to himself, his voice barely audible over the rustling leaves.

He looked down at her, cradled in his arms, her face pale but determined even in unconsciousness. He carried her to the far edge of the forest, where the air was fresher, free from the stifling tension of the camp.

Crux had questioned him earlier, but Catra didn’t care. "She doesn’t need a medical crew," he had told him. "Her body needs to learn to trust itself. To heal on its own. If we keep coddling her, she’ll never grow. She’ll never learn to fight back."

As he laid Adora down gently beneath the shade of a tree, Catra whispered, "You’ll survive this, Adora. And when you do, you’ll be unstoppable."

He sucked on her breast, his sharp teeth grazing her nipple. A bead of blood rolled down her chest, and he licked it away with a mix of tenderness and raw hunger. His movements were both gentle and commanding, a perfect blend of care and dominance. He trailed his tongue upward, his body pressing down over hers as he claimed her skin, his sharp teeth grazing the soft flesh of her neck. Her breath hitched as her hands instinctively roamed his body, feeling the hard flex of muscle beneath her touch.

Suddenly, he sat up, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand. Her chest rose and fell in rhythm with her shallow breaths, their eyes locked—his gold and blue irises burning into her gray-blue ones. A single bead of saliva slipped from his lips and fell onto hers. Her tongue darted out instinctively, tasting him, savoring his essence. He smirked and leaned down, his lips capturing hers with an unrelenting force. A deep, guttural moan escaped her as his raspy tongue invaded her mouth, igniting an ache that grew unbearable. Her thighs clenched together, desperate for friction as heat pooled in her core.

The pressure of his body against hers was intoxicating, her thoughts a haze of longing and resistance. When he finally pulled back, she gasped for air, trembling under his intense gaze. He grinned, a wolfish expression that made her shudder. “I can smell you,” he teased, his voice low and dripping with raw desire. “But you’re not ready yet, baby. You’re not strong enough to take me without breaking.”

He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear. “I need you to grow stronger, or you’ll die while I’m fucking you, carving your body into being mine.”

Her eyes snapped open, a harsh breath tearing through her lungs. She bolted upright, disoriented, her body sore and her mind reeling. The dark room around her was unfamiliar yet comfortingly intimate. The scent—earthy and electric—was unmistakable. It was his. The dampness between her thighs was a harsh reminder of the dream, her heart pounding as she tried to get her bearings. She shifted, intending to leave the bed, only to step directly on something warm and solid.

A startled scream escaped her as she recoiled, falling back onto the bed. His laugh broke the tension—a low, rumbling sound that sent shivers down her spine. He sat up lazily, shirtless, his muscular form stretching as if he hadn’t a care in the world. The bed shifted under his weight, and her gaze involuntarily followed the movement, her thoughts betraying her as a primal urge to submit and be claimed surged through her.

He smirked at her, his gold-and-blue eyes gleaming with mischief. “Relax,” Catra drawled, his voice rough and teasing. “I didn’t do anything... not yet, anyway.” He paused, watching her flush deeply, her face a shade of crimson that almost made him laugh.

She scrambled to her senses, her voice higher-pitched than usual. “Why are you naked?!” she shrieked, quickly diverting her gaze to the ceiling.

Catra chuckled, clearly enjoying her flustered state. “It’s normal to sleep naked,” he replied nonchalantly, stretching again as if this were the most casual conversation in the world.

“Not when we’re not... dating or... doing things! People don’t just sleep naked around others!” Adora huffed, her hands clenched tightly in the sheets, her eyes glued to the ceiling as if her life depended on it.

He leaned closer, his face hovering above hers, consuming her senses entirely. The weight of his presence was overwhelming. “You have nothing to worry about. I just can’t sleep with clothes on. They rip off me anyway.” His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it carried a gravity that made her shiver.

Adora’s voice softened into a plea. “Please... put on pants.”

Catra raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening as he leaned closer. “I thought you said you’d had sex before.”

Her blush deepened, her cheeks flaming as she stammered, “I-I have! But this—this is different! And anyway, it’s not like there’s anything worth looking at!” She added the last part hastily, hoping to regain some control of the situation.

He let out a low, shaky laugh, his expression somewhere between amused and predatory. “Is that so?” he said, his tone dripping with challenge.

Her gaze betrayed her, darting downward before she could stop herself. Her eyes widened as she realized how very wrong her assumption had been. Heat flooded her body as she snapped her head back up, her voice trembling. “P-put on pants, Catra!” she squeaked, her dignity barely holding together.

His laughter was deep and genuine as he complied, pulling on a pair of pants with an infuriating slowness that made her pulse race. She caught a glimpse of his body, the way the fabric stretched and moved as he adjusted himself, and she swallowed hard. Her eyes darted upward, but when they met his, her breath hitched. He’d been watching her the entire time.

“See something you like, Adora?” he teased, his voice a seductive purr.

Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She clenched her fists, willing her racing heart to calm. She was determined not to let him win this game, even if every fiber of her being screamed for him to consume her entirely.

After a moment, Catra looked at her and said, “You did good yesterday. But I needed to see how you move—what may trigger you…”

Adora’s eyes widened, her head snapping to fully face him, her attention locked. “Really?” she asked quickly. “How? What did you see—or how? Or—”

Catra, barely holding back his laughter, raised a hand to stop her rambling. “Breathe. Relax. First, I want to hear what the labs have to say about the tests we ran the day after you guys arrived. Based on what they tell us, we’ll see how much of this ‘science’”—he lifted his fingers in air quotes—“is actually fucking useful, or what our fathers think is going to work for us. But honestly?” He let out a sharp breath, shaking his head. “I think they’re just throwing words at us, hoping any answer is better than no answer. And, well...I think there’s a lot more we can figure out on our own than with any of them. But that’s all I can say until after the camp meeting today. Because it’s Monday, and I’ll be doing my counselor thing—helping out new arrivals, making sure everything’s in order, and training the newbies to act…civil in front of outsiders when camp tours start next week.”

Catra ran a hand through his dark hair as he rummaged through his dresser, pulling out a pair of black shorts, a matching tee, and socks. He placed them neatly on the pillow beside her and looked up. Adora watched him take a steadying breath before saying softly, “I have my own place. There’s food in the fridge, and I got some…uh…girl stuff for you. It’s in the bathroom.”

Her eyes softened as they landed on the pile of clothes, a light blush warming her cheeks. She smiled faintly. “Thank you, Catra. Really. I know this is…a lot for both of us. I just want you to know how much it means to me that you’re helping instead of fighting my dad on the testing. And…” She trailed off, her voice a soft murmur. “...it means more than you know.”

Catra, with his back turned as he slipped on a white tee, paused for a moment. He muttered under his breath, “Yeah…sure.”

His voice had dropped slightly, the emotion barely audible, but he said nothing more as he grabbed the door handle. The light from the living room spilled into the small, dark bedroom, tracing over his tense form. His knuckles whitened around the handle, the faint sound of metal bending under his grip made her heart clench.

“River’s home all day,” he said abruptly. “Be careful. She’s strong and she’s fast—learns her victims quicker than you’d think. Stay alert. Today’s lesson would be called ‘Surviving the Mountain Lion in the Middle of Their Woods and Living to See Tomorrow.’”

Adora let out a shaky laugh. “Okay. I’ll bet my toes.”

Catra gave a firm nod. “Good. Stay on your feet. Use your senses. Adapt. If you’re quick enough to move and think fast, you’ll survive.” He lingered for only a second longer before speeding out of the small cabin apartment.

Adora exhaled, tension slowly unraveling from her chest as she slid out of bed. She padded over to the window, looking out into the dense trees. “River…” she whispered, a chill running through her. Her mind flashed back to the dream—the haunting words that still clung to her skin.

“I need you to grow stronger, or you’ll die while I’m fucking you, carving your body into being mine.”

She shuddered, swallowing hard as the memory lingered. “I need a shower,” she muttered, turning toward the bathroom.

The hot water streamed over her body, filling the room with thick steam. She let the warmth consume her, scrubbing at her skin as if trying to erase the dirt, the grime, the blood. Every muscle in her body ached—a dull, persistent hum vibrating through her bones. Each harsh drag of the cloth against her skin stung, but it was grounding, pulling her back to herself. She clenched her eyes shut, taking shaky breaths, wincing as the steam burned her lungs.

Images of the night before replayed in her mind—the blows, the hits, the overwhelming power of Catra’s strikes. He had been brutal, his strength almost otherworldly. And yet…even in his brutality, there had been softness. A deliberate holding back that both infuriated her and turned her on.

What’s wrong with me? she thought bitterly, scrubbing harder at her skin.

Meanwhile, Catra was walking down the hill when River appeared at his side, her presence slicing through the quiet like a blade.

“Is she in your room?” River asked sharply.

Catra rolled his eyes and sighed, throwing his head back as he kept walking. “Yes, she’s in my room. We got back late from training, and I had to beat the shit out of her, okay? I carried her back. She was unconscious—”

River cut him off, her tone venomous. “Is that your problem?”

Catra stopped abruptly, his boots grinding against the dirt. He turned to face her fully, his amber eyes sharp and cold. “Stop, River,” he said in a low voice. “She’s not just some bitch or some girl you can mess with. You hurt her, the vamps will kill you, and I’ll let it happen. You get that? There’s no need for you to act this way. It’s not like I’m in love with her, or we’re running off together. For fuck’s sake, I barely know the girl.”

River’s lips curled into a mocking snarl. “But you want to, don’t you?”

“Fuck off, River.”

“You do, don’t you?” she pressed, stepping closer. “You want her. I can see it.”

Catra clenched his jaw, his voice deadly calm. “I love pussy, baby. I just love to fuck. I don’t care what feelings you think I have. If I fuck her, I can. Just like you can screw whoever else you want. We broke up. For fuck’s sake, it’s been a year.”

River’s blue eyes glinted dangerously, her lips twisting. “But you want her, Catra. You’re mine—you’ll always be mine.”

“I’m not, ” he growled back.

River smirked, her tone a soft whisper of warning. “We’ll see about that. Have a lovely day, baby.” She swayed as she walked off, the smell of her lingering lust hanging in the air.

Catra watched her go, his body tense. Fuck, she’s still hot, he thought bitterly, shaking his head. Just pussy. He muttered the words to himself like a mantra, trying to pull himself together. With one last glance back, he caught River’s satisfied smirk from the top of the hill. He growled under his breath and stormed down the path.

River laughed to herself, turning back toward the cabin, her mind already churning with ideas. I’ll figure out how to pull him back to me, she thought, the spark of chaos already brewing in her chest.

Adora noticed the subtle shape of batons, paired with a faint yet familiar scent—lavender and white lily, fresh as though just picked. Beneath that floral lightness, she detected a faint, earthy undertone of soil that made her smile softly to herself. It grounded her, reminded her of something unspoken, something real. She chuckled quietly as she brushed her hair back and began gathering it. She fashioned a top ponytail, split the pony into two braids, and let the rest of her hair fall freely.

After finishing her routine—lotioning her skin, taming her hair, and centering herself—Adora returned to the bedroom. Her clothes were laid out, chosen for both comfort and practicality. The shorts were loose, but a drawstring secured them snugly at her waist. The top was light and breathable, though slightly oversized, and the black socks were undeniably soft. Catra had thought of everything, as always—an outfit that wouldn’t restrict her movement, especially knowing today would demand more of her body.

Adora stepped into the small living room-kitchen space and noticed a folded piece of paper on top of a pair of black boots. Her name was scribbled on the note. She picked it up, her fingers brushing against the sturdy leather of the boots.

*"Your sneakers had too much blood. I had to burn them. Went to the camp store and got you these boots—better for the terrain anyway.

• C"*

She smiled at Catra’s straightforwardness. Practical as ever, yet there was care beneath it all.

A sharp knock at the door broke the moment. Adora stiffened, turning instinctively toward the sound. She hesitated, glanced through the peephole, and felt her chest tighten.

It was her father.

Ranger knocked again, his voice muffled but earnest. “Adora, open up. I just want to talk. I didn’t see you come into the cabin last night. I—” He paused, the words weighted. “I passed Catra down below. She told me where I could find you. Please open up, honey.”

Adora sighed, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She opened the door just enough to peer through, watching as her father’s stone-gray eyes locked onto hers. Despite the hardness, there was something soft lingering there—something like regret. A faint glow, a reflection of the light outside, seemed to haze over them.

Ranger leaned in slightly. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice low.

Adora nodded and stepped back, opening the door wider. “I’m sorry too, Dad. Come in.”

Ranger entered, moving carefully into the space as though he didn’t want to disturb anything. He stood awkwardly for a beat before Adora broke the silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other day,” she admitted. “I just knew that if you saw me—saw me getting beat up like that—after the first training session, you wouldn’t want me to go back. And I have to do this. I don’t have a choice.”

Her voice grew steadier as she spoke, conviction simmering beneath her words. “I know you want to protect me because you still see me as your kid. But I can’t stop. There’s so much we don’t understand—things science alone won’t explain. You think your experience with experiments, with Frater, with Hordak... maybe it will help. Maybe it’ll be the very thing Catra and I need. But it’s not going to tell me how to activate my powers. That’s something I have to figure out.”

Ranger looked at her, a mixture of pride and pain in his expression. He exhaled deeply, turning away to glance out the window. The forest beyond was silent, save for the whispers of wind against the glass. “You’re right,” he said finally, his voice quiet but firm. “In all my experience with the supernatural world we live in... this is the most out of my depth I’ve ever been.”

He turned back to her, his gaze searching. “And Catra—he’s something else entirely. The blood results are coming in slowly. Later today, we should have some real information—something we can actually talk about.” He paused, his voice tightening around the edges. “I can’t promise that what we find is going to be the answer you want. Or the answer I want. Or Catra wants. But it’ll get us closer—closer to understanding something about all this.”

Adora held his gaze, absorbing the weight of his words. The silence that followed was thick, yet not heavy. It was simply... there, like a bridge connecting two opposing shores.

She swallowed hard, letting the quiet stretch before finally speaking. “I know, Dad.”

Ranger nodded, his expression softening as he studied her face. She wasn’t a little girl anymore—she was something stronger, sharper. But even so, he couldn’t stop the pull to protect her.

Adora hesitated, her mind clouded with unspoken fears and unrelenting determination. “This—whatever this is—it’s only the beginning,” she said softly.

Her father didn’t argue. He just looked at her, his eyes betraying the weight of everything he wished he could take away but knew he couldn’t.

Adora paused, letting herself breathe. Outside, the faint rustling of leaves sounded like a thousand tiny voices carrying secrets on the wind. Secrets that neither she, nor her father, nor even Catra fully understood yet.

But she would.

Somehow, she would .

Frapta and Hordak were hunched over the lab table, studying the samples when a sharp beeping sound shattered the silence. Frapta immediately perked up, spinning her chair around with an excited squeal. “The samples from three days ago are finally done being processed!” she shouted, practically bouncing in her seat, her joy spilling into the sterile air of the lab.

Hordak, however, remained far more composed— worried even—as he rubbed the space between his brows with deliberate exhaustion. “You need to calm down,” he muttered, his voice carrying the weight of caution. “We haven’t even looked over them yet. This could be catastrophic. It could be something we can’t tell them—something that’ll more than likely get us killed.”

Frapta merely laughed, brushing off his concern like a stray thread. “Oh, stop being so dramatic, Hordak. This is for the love of science!” she chimed, her tone teasing and unapologetic as she leaned over to tap the top of his head lightly. “And that’s the most important part, isn’t it?”

Her grin softened, and she placed a finger on her chin, pretending to think. Then, out of nowhere, her voice took a sultry turn, though it still carried that mischievous edge. “So, tell me, would you like me to give you fellatio , or would you prefer we just do coitus ?”

Hordak froze, his eyes widening so far it seemed they might pop from his skull. A deep crimson blush bloomed across his cheeks, spreading to his ears as his breath hitched. He stared at her for a moment, stunned into silence. Frapta, however, was unbothered, her gaze utterly innocent, as though she were discussing tomorrow’s breakfast rather than anything intimate.

After an awkward beat, he cleared his throat. “W-well...” His voice cracked as he nodded shyly, the blush intensifying as if she’d turned the heat up in the lab.

Frapta’s lips curled into a knowing smile. She reached over, patting his head again—this time with a gentler, almost affectionate touch. “Just don’t overdo it this time, okay? We do have work tomorrow.”

Hordak’s embarrassment only deepened. He ducked his head, his voice nearly a whisper. “I... I’m sorry.” The admission was earnest, laced with the guilt of someone who cared far more deeply than he’d ever admit.

Frapta shook her head, though her expression was far from displeased. If anything, there was a quiet fondness to her tone. “It’s not that it was... unpleasant,” she reassured him, her voice steady yet soft. “I just need time to rest afterward, and you know I haven’t had that lately. So tonight—” She raised her brow, letting the word linger in the air like a promise. “I’d like something slower. A little more... paced . Consider it a celebration. Or maybe our final moments, since you seem convinced they’ll kill us.”

Hordak exhaled a heavy breath, shaking his head as though trying to gather his thoughts. “Fine,” he mumbled, resigned yet careful. He glanced at her, his lips twitching into the smallest of smirks. “Okay.”

Frapta smiled back at him, satisfied—her playful nature only dimmed by the faint tension still lingering in the room. Despite her excitement, despite her need to tease and challenge him, there was an unspoken understanding between them. A familiarity. A shared, quiet acknowledgment that whatever the samples revealed... it could change everything.

For now, though, they existed in this moment—in a fragile bubble of laughter, trust, and the tenuous bonds of a partnership that, despite its quirks, held something real.

And when the world outside inevitably came crashing in, they would face it—together.

Chapter Text

The wind rustled, stirring up dry dust around the gnarled trees. Branches creaked and groaned under the strain, bending against an invisible force that carried whispers of the desert’s secrets. She stepped outside, her boots crunching against the parched ground, and tilted her head back to take in the Arizona sky. The fading sunlight painted a masterpiece above her—hues of pink melting into deep blues, like watercolor strokes bleeding together in perfect chaos. She bit her lip absentmindedly, wincing as the sharp sting reminded her of the broken skin.

It had been another grueling day. Catra had worked her over again, her body a canvas of bruises left by relentless training. But this time, River had been there, watching. River’s icy blue eyes seemed to pierce through her, dissecting every movement, every breath. Those eyes were wolf-like—predatory and haunting, burning with an intensity that made her feel exposed, as though her very soul had been laid bare.

Crux had stepped in, his voice sharp and commanding as he called Catra away before things could escalate. But River stayed, her presence heavy, inescapable, suffocating. The air between them was taut, charged with unspoken words and unyielding tension.

River approached slowly, her steps measured and deliberate, like a stalking lioness sizing up her prey. When she finally spoke, her voice was a venom-laced drawl, each word deliberate and cutting. "You trying to steal my boyfriend?"

The accusation hung in the air, sharp and loaded, daring a response.

She hesitated for only a heartbeat before squaring her shoulders, refusing to cower. “What if I am?”

The boldness of her response sliced through the tension like a blade. For a split second, River’s icy composure cracked, and something primal flickered in her eyes—a flash of raw, unguarded emotion.

Catra’s warning echoed in her mind like a cautionary drumbeat: She’s dangerous. Over the past three days, she had pieced together fragments of Catra and River’s story—of what they had been and what they still were, despite the unraveling threads. They weren’t together anymore, not officially, yet their connection clung to them like the aftermath of a storm—raw, unresolved, and simmering with electric tension.

It wasn’t just their history. It was the way they moved around each other, the unspoken words caught between their silences. There was no denying the passion that still burned between them, an untamed force neither had fully mastered. It was the kind of passion that didn’t fade—it only smoldered, waiting for the right spark to reignite the blaze.

As the wind howled around them, carrying the scent of desert sage and something faintly metallic, she wondered if she had just lit that spark—or if it had been smoldering all along, waiting for the perfect storm to consume them all.

But Catra had grown bored, and that shift made River even more volatile. Crux’s warning about River’s unpredictability only deepened Adora's unease. Yet, despite the warnings and her own apprehension, Adora couldn’t deny the magnetic pull she felt toward River. There was a fiery presence about her—a kind of dominance that seemed to bend the world around her. River commanded attention effortlessly, her eyes always watchful, like a predator assessing its surroundings. But Adora noticed something else: River’s focus was singular, unwavering, and it was locked entirely on Catra.

The camp itself was steeped in tension, an almost suffocating weight that pressed down on everyone. Adora felt it like a storm cloud hanging over her, threatening to burst at any moment. Her father and Carter had been increasingly distant, barricaded in their lab. Their secretive behavior hinted at some groundbreaking discovery, but whatever it was, they weren’t ready to share. That secrecy only added to the unease settling over the camp.

Meanwhile, Catra’s training sessions had grown more brutal. Each day was a test of endurance, both physical and mental, and today was no exception. His strikes were precise, his movements deliberate, but it never lasted long. He wasn’t just teaching Adora to fight; he wanted her to hone her instincts.

“Your senses are your greatest weapon,” Catra had said, his voice sharp and unyielding. “You need to learn to read the world around you. The way someone’s breathing shifts, the slight flush in their skin when they’re about to lie, the way their pulse quickens when they’re afraid. Every creature has a tell. Even the strongest among us let their weaknesses slip if you know where to look.”

Adora nodded, absorbing his words. She understood the importance of what he was teaching, but it was daunting—like trying to decode an unspoken language. Her mind lingered on one question, though, and finally, she asked it.

“What about River?”

Catra had paused, his expression thoughtful. “River’s tells are so faint they’re almost impossible to detect. But you’ve been around her long enough. You might have picked up on them without realizing it.” He tapped his chin, a rare smile tugging at his lips. “Crux’s noticed, too. I’ve caught him watching her, trying to figure her out. She’s skilled at hiding it, though. Too skilled. If you were to use her as practice, you’d better be prepared. With the way she is, you’re more likely to end up dead before you even realize her tells.”

Those words echoed in Adora’s mind as she sat in the quiet of the camp that night. The air was heavy with the scent of earth and wood smoke, mingling with the faint trace of lavender from River’s perfume. And then, for the first time, Adora thought she sensed them—River’s tells.

It wasn’t anything obvious. It wasn’t the way River stood, poised like a coiled spring, or the sharpness of her gaze. It was something subtler, almost imperceptible, like the heat radiating off burning wood—sharp, acrid, and intoxicating. Adora’s senses felt heightened, her pulse quickening as she tried to pinpoint what it was she was feeling.

River’s presence was overwhelming. She was stunning in a way that demanded attention—tall, lean, with sharp angles softened by the fluidity of her movements exuding both grace and raw power. Her deep red hair caught the moonlight, glowing like embers, and her icy blue eyes seemed to hold secrets too dangerous to uncover. There was cruelty in her beauty, an edge that kept people at arm’s length. But it also drew them in, like moths to a flame; that gave her an almost devilish allure.

“What the fuck are you staring at?” River’s voice snapped her out of her trance, venom lacing every syllable.

Adora couldn’t help but be captivated, even as her instincts screamed at her to stay away. She knew what Catra had meant. Being near River was like standing on the edge of a cliff, the thrill of the height mingling with the terror of falling. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

She smirked, finding her footing. “I’m just trying to figure out what it is he sees in you.” lie she could see but  refused to say that or acknowledge it at least to River face.

River’s laugh was sharp, mocking. “You think you’re competition? You couldn’t even begin to understand what binds him to me.” 

River smiles that almost remind me of Catra. It's a little bit mean but something amusing playing along her lips. she talks “you want to  know what he's attracted to and what makes him so tempted around me.  Let me tell you” 

Adora looks a bit worried as river steps closer. “It's because he's mine”  Her breath is hot on my face, drops of  spit land on my lip and cheek. 

she continues “Let me describe how he's mine when my fangs  grow, they grow to break through his flesh just Above his mating line. It sinks down and pushes right through the muscle scraping along his bones carving my name deep within his body, it’s the usual bite when he's 10 inches deep inside my pussy, just before he cums pumping me full of his bloodline”

Adora's finger flinches as River  continues to talk “ and my pussy is sucking him dry.  Just like it was last night” at those words something in me flares to life like nothing I've ever felt before.

It feels like electricity running through my veins burning to life. As River continues to talk, my fingers flex at each word. “When I sink my claws into his skin” River smiles as she says this “tears right through his skin and his skin starts to heal around my claws, as if trying to consume me, to make me bring me closer to him, blending our bodies together. Everything about him is mine. The way that he breathes is because I've helped him breathe. The air in his lungs is from inside of me, every breath that I take, is the air he breathes. When I bleed I bleed his blood, because I've spent countless hours drinking him dry as he's claimed my body, I'm drunk of just the thought of it.” 

she smiles, as the subtle laugh breaks through.  My laugh takes over hers. I smirk as River's smile drops as she watches me. It makes me laugh a little. Adoras smile grows as she watches rivers fave twist in  a jealous anger.

Her words painted a vivid, brutal picture: claws sinking into flesh, marking him as hers. Every detail was laced with obsession, possessiveness, and a twisted kind of love. But she held her ground, refusing to let River’s words shake her.

“You’re delusional,” Adora says, her voice calm but cutting. “What you’re describing isn’t love—it’s desperation. You’re clinging to a man who’s already halfway out the door.”

River’s fury was palpable, her icy composure fracturing as her pulse quickened. Her breaths grew shallow, her scent shifting—lavender laced with blood. The predator in her surged forward, but so did something primal in herself. 

 adore, felt electricity flowing through her body. She couldn't describe it, but it was raw and powerful. The wind in the trees rustled stillness to the air sounds coming in after as of time slowed.

A voice whispered in her mind, dark and insistent: Consume her. Consume her.

Her vision blurred as her senses heightened. She could feel River’s heartbeat, hear the creak of her teeth as she gritted them. The whisper grew louder, drowning out rational thought.  

just as they're both about to move to Pounce on each other. A hand wrapped around her throat, adora tugs forward  just a bit but the firm and commanding arms around her body were  solid and unwavering. Electricity coursed through her a singular breath allowed her to breathe in and take in the scent that was wrapped around her body and encasing her and snapping her back to reality. Catra. His grip was both a restraint and a lifeline, grounding her in the storm raging inside.

“Relax,” he murmured, his breath warm against her ear. But his attention wasn’t on her—it was on River, whose growl rumbled like an earthquake. Catra’s tight grip around her body gave her body a sense of awareness that River really was a threat but it also let her know that she was one too because in that moment, catra had to do two things at once push River back while still also containing Adora

something in adora, I had to awaken alive and something told her that in a few days or whatever she was gonna feel  the unrelenting power that had been dormant for the last four years. 

In Catras' arms adora felt alive for the first time in her life. she had finally awaken them she could feel it in the way that catra’s  grip their body, his muscles flex around her arms the tightness the pressure she didn't even realize her eyes was glowing crooks and Catherine held their ground holding down both as best they could if they were a second later a very unpredictable moment would have happened. 

River’s fury was volcanic, her icy facade crumbling under the weight of jealousy and betrayal. But Crux  whispered into River ear “ please calm down not here just relax” his calm presence diffusing the tension. He pulled River away, his touch instantly soothing her.  but her eyes were locked on them like in a trance. Crux's grip tightened around her.” Please let it go, just relax.”

Catra’s voice was low and sharp as he whispered into her ear, “What the fuck are you two doing?”

River’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, Adora thought she’d gone too far. The air between them seemed to crackle with tension, the kind that preceded a storm. River’s fury was palpable, radiating off her in waves. But Adora didn’t back down. She couldn’t.

And then, as quickly as it had come, the moment passed. River turned on her heel, her movements fluid and graceful. But as she walked away, her parting words lingered in the air like a threat.

“Be careful, Adora. You’re playing with fire.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, the sound wild and unhinged. The fire coursing through her veins was intoxicating, and for the first time, she felt powerful—terrifyingly so.

As River was led away, her piercing gaze lingered, filled with a promise of reckoning. But at that moment, she wasn’t afraid. She was ready.

To make sure that she actually walked down and wasn't gonna turn around crux’s followed river down the hill, the moment they were further enough away catra’s  grip lightened on adora.

Catra took a bated breath “what the hell were you thinking, she could've killed you”  he shook his head running his hand through his hair. 

Crux trailed behind River, his voice sharp but laced with concern. "What the hell, River? Was that really necessary? What were you planning to do if Catra and I hadn't stepped in—kill her? If this is your idea of getting his attention, it's the wrong way, and you know it. I don't care if you accept their connection or not; going after her like that isn't the solution. It's been days , River—days—and he's already stepping in to protect her from you . Do you get what that means? You’re not pulling him closer; you’re driving him further away."

He stopped walking, his chest rising and falling with the weight of his words. "Are you even listening to me? I'm not your enemy here."

Crux flexed his hand into a fist, his voice softening but no less firm. "Whether you two are together or not, you're family to me. That won't change. I'll always have your back—but for the love of everything, give me something to work with here . I won’t stand by and let you lash out at her, but at least help me understand where you're coming from. Right now, River, you look like... someone in a jealous rage—a scorned ex, hell-bent on taking down some girl who barely has a crush on your ex-boyfriend. And that’s all it is, River. A crush. He hasn’t made a single move on her. Nothing inappropriate has happened—at least not physically. You’re spiraling, and it’s going to cost you.

"You know what they’re trying to do, don’t you? They’re activating her. She’s from an old bloodline. If you trick her into a fight—or worse, provoke her into losing control—who knows who’s going to survive that? Maybe neither of you will. And then what? You’re stronger than this, River. I care about you, but you have to stop acting like this. If he thinks you’re a threat to her, he will stop you—with everything he has. And you know that’s the last thing he wants to do, no matter what’s happened between you two."

River’s hands twitched, her claws extending and retracting reflexively. Her back remained turned to him, but her shoulders trembled as silent tears streaked down her face. The tears stung, each one a searing reminder of everything she was losing—or had already lost. Acidic emotions bubbled under her skin, threatening to consume her whole.

Crux’s words cut deep, carving through her fragile armor. Family? How could he still call her that? She knew better. She’d never be family. Not now. Not when Adora was sinking her teeth deeper into the only thing River had left—her real family .

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, the words barely audible before she took off, running faster than Crux could keep up.

River’s thoughts swirled in a chaotic storm, each one more crushing than the last. Panic clawed at her chest, threatening to strangle her. Catra’s face—her expression—was something River had never seen before, not directed at her. Not like that. The realization set in like ice in her veins: if Adora got her hands on him—if she sank her teeth any deeper—River would lose everything.

The only family she’d ever known.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated, her voice breaking, though no one was there to hear it. Her legs burned as she pushed herself harder, desperate to outrun the truth she couldn’t face.

— Back at camp in the secret lab of Carter and Ranger

Back at the lab, Carter and Ranger were locked in a heated debate with Hordak and Frapta. The question loomed over them: was the data they had gathered conclusive, or would they need to conduct further tests? The DNA analysis they had compiled over the last few days had been rigorously tested for every genetic mutation imaginable, spanning multiple species. Yet, the mystery persisted.

The debate centered around Catra’s genetic anomaly. Was it an evolutionary development triggered by his mother’s unique genetic makeup, or something entirely different? The problem was clear—there was no genetic pool to cross-reference from his mother’s side. Her bloodline had been wiped out, leaving no traceable lineage. On the other hand, Carter’s bloodline, though distinct, aligned with known werewolf genetic markers, stabilizing within the boundaries of historical data. But Catra’s mother was on an entirely different spectrum, and the implications of her genetic legacy were tied, inexplicably, to Adora.

Frapta took a deep breath before launching into a detailed explanation, her voice steady and clinical yet tinged with fascination. “The genetic pool Catra has been tested against shows no clear precedent. What we can ascertain is that his genetic mutation enables his body to develop at an accelerated rate. He heals faster, adapts more swiftly, and represents a higher evolutionary breed—a species in constant flux. His blood has undergone a transformation, potentially becoming something transmissible, though the mechanism—whether airborne or otherwise—is still unclear. At this point, the mutation appears dormant in most cases, but the anomaly lies in how it reacts to Adora’s blood.”

Carter frowned, his brows knitting together as Frapta continued. “When Catra’s blood interacts with Adora’s, it triggers an unprecedented reaction. Her blood, which should remain stable, begins a process of rapid development. It cancels out the latent human genetic markers within her bloodline. This reaction is unlike anything we’ve ever observed—it’s as if their blood shares a symbiotic relationship, generating an energy source when they interact.”

Ranger’s voice cut through the room, laced with disbelief. “Are you saying their blood creates energy?”

“Exactly,” Frapta confirmed, her eyes gleaming with the thrill of discovery. “The first reaction manifests as light—a combustion of sorts. The blood interaction ignites something in both of them. For Catra, it accelerates his already heightened abilities. For Adora, it activates dormant potential, overriding the human limitations in her system. However, there’s an initial dormancy when their blood first merges. Adora’s body seems to need time to process the interaction before it can fully integrate Catra’s blood and activate its effects.”

Hordak crossed his arms, his skepticism evident. “And this dormancy—you’re saying it’s because of her human lineage?”

Frapta nodded. “Precisely. The human markers in her blood resist the mutation at first, weakening the process. The interaction essentially ‘eats away’ at those markers, allowing her body to align with the new energy source. Once the initial integration completes, reintroducing Catra’s blood ignites the process again, this time with amplified results. Her body heals faster, her senses sharpen, and her ability to interact with biological energy becomes almost limitless. Theoretical forces of energy, tied to the fundamental layers of existence, start to manifest within her.”

The room fell into a tense silence as Carter and Ranger exchanged bewildered glances. Ranger finally broke the silence. “So, you’re saying...they’re connected on a level we can’t fully understand?”

Frapta sighed, her voice softening. “That’s exactly what I’m saying. Their bond isn’t just emotional or physical—it’s written into their very DNA. The implications of this are profound, but without a broader genetic pool to study, we’re navigating uncharted territory.”

Hordak shook his head, muttering under his breath, “Uncharted is putting it lightly.”

Carter leaned forward, his voice firm but uncertain. “And what does this mean for them? For all of us?”

Frapta’s gaze didn’t waver. “It means we’ve only scratched the surface. Their connection could be the key to something far greater—or far more dangerous—than we’ve ever imagined.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, leaving everyone in the room with the uneasy realization that this was only the beginning.

Frapta's tone remained steady as she addressed the room, her words calculated and deliberate. "This information isn’t something we can simply run with yet. To make sense of it all, we need more observations. With Adora undergoing new training, we must determine whether her body has completed its dormant phase. There will be unmistakable signs when she’s ready for the next... update, so to speak."

Ranger cut her off sharply, his voice tinged with both skepticism and urgency. "So, you're saying we have to reintroduce her body to Catra’s blood?"

Frapta nodded solemnly. "Yes. Technically, her body has been in a dormant state for the last four years. The blood she absorbed initially has been working—methodically stripping away every human marker in her DNA. Once those markers are completely eradicated, her body will require a replacement to maintain stability. Without it, the consequences could be catastrophic."

She paused, letting the weight of her words settle before continuing. "Adora’s very essence—her human biology—was meticulously intertwined with something... other when she was created. That delicate balance is now being systematically dismantled. Once those human limitations are gone, her body will need a new foundation to anchor itself. Without it, she risks losing control over her development—or worse."

Ranger exchanged a glance with Carter, who stood leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable but his eyes betraying deep concern. "What kind of effects are we talking about?" Carter finally asked, his voice low but steady.

Frapta sighed, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as she spoke with increasing urgency. "Her training is already activating parts of her that were never fully developed before. Those senses, those abilities—they’re evolving rapidly. But they lack a stable foundation. Right now, the blood she carries is tearing through the remnants of her human biology like wildfire. It’s been eating away for years, preparing her for this moment. Once that process is complete, the void it leaves behind must be filled. If it isn’t, the resulting instability could kill her."

A heavy silence filled the room as the implications settled over them. Hordak, who had been silently observing from the corner, finally spoke. "And you’re suggesting we reintroduce Catra’s blood as the solution? How much are we talking about? Are we even certain it will work?"

Frapta exhaled, her frustration momentarily visible. "That’s the problem. We don’t know how much blood was introduced the first time. It wasn’t monitored; it was... instinctual. If we introduce too little, it might do nothing. Too much, and we risk an unpredictable reaction. Her body might not handle the influx well—or at all."

Ranger frowned, running a hand through his hair. "And Catra’s blood itself is an anomaly. There’s no genetic baseline to compare it to, no precedent. His bloodline is completely wiped out—gone. Carter’s blood and Crux’s are known quantities, but Catra’s... he’s the outlier. The singular variable in all of this."

Frapta turned to Hordak, her focus shifting. "We need a body scanner capable of tracking the transformation in real-time. Something precise enough to measure the reaction as it happens. Without it, we’re working blind, and that’s not a risk I’m willing to take."

Carter, who had been silent, finally pushed off the wall and stepped forward. His voice was firm but tinged with worry. "How much longer do we have? How close is Adora to losing the last of her human markers?"

Frapta’s lips tightened. "Not long. Her body is already showing signs of accelerated adaptation. Every day she trains with Catra, it pushes her closer to the tipping point. The clock is ticking."

Ranger crossed his arms, his tone skeptical but curious. "And what about the connection between their blood? You’re saying it’s more than just a biological reaction?"

Frapta hesitated, her gaze flickering as she weighed her words carefully. "Their blood doesn’t just mix; it interacts. Catra’s blood ignites hers, triggering a process of transformation. But Adora’s blood responds in kind, going dormant first—like it’s processing the change before activating. It’s as if their blood was designed to complement one another, creating a cycle of ignition and stabilization. But why, or how, we still don’t fully understand."

The room fell silent once more, the weight of the moment pressing down on each of them. Frapta met their gazes, her determination unwavering. "We don’t have the luxury of hesitation. If we’re going to save Adora, we need to act—and soon."

  Ranger rushes out of the lab clearly in a bit of a panic. Carter rushes out after him after they Leave the lab.  Hordak turns to frapta. 

Hordak folded his arms, his expression grim, the weight of the conversation settling heavily over the room. "Then we’d better figure it out. Because if this connection is as deep as you’re implying, it’s not just Adora’s life that’s on the line—it’s also Catra’s."

He paused, his gaze narrowing as he continued, each word deliberate and laced with urgency. "If this connection is truly as profound as you’re suggesting, then any erratic event that affects Adora could have drastic repercussions when Catra is drawn further into this... knot, this bond. Am I correct in assuming that if something destabilizes Adora, it could trigger unforeseen consequences in Catra as well?"

Frapta nodded slowly, her face etched with concern, the weight of her own thoughts evident. "Yes, that’s exactly the danger. The connection they share is symbiotic. If Adora’s transformation falters or spirals out of control, it could ripple through to Catra in ways we don’t yet understand. Their bond isn’t just biological; it’s foundational. What affects one inevitably impacts the other, and the deeper that bond becomes, the more unpredictable the consequences."

Hordak’s eyes darkened, his voice hardening with determination. "Then we need to figure this out—and fast. If we don’t, we’re risking not just their lives but the fragile balance holding everything together. The longer we wait, the higher the stakes."

The room was thick with tension as the weight of Hordak’s words settled over everyone. Frapta’s mind raced, her thoughts weaving through endless scenarios, each more precarious than the last. "We need a solution that’s both precise and controlled," she said finally, her tone measured but resolute. "Something that allows us to monitor the interplay between them in real time. If we’re going to act, it has to be with absolute precision. One misstep could unravel everything." Hordak’s gaze swept over the room, his sharp mind already calculating the risks and possibilities.

Carter rushed forward, his hand gripping Ranger’s shoulder with enough force to turn him around. "You need to calm down!"

Ranger’s eyes flared with frustration, his voice rising as he shrugged off Carter’s grip. "How could you tell me to calm down? My daughter is teetering on the edge of death, and we have no solution—no plan, no answers! Everything they just said in there could be a pile of bullshit, or it could be the catastrophic truth. We’re dealing with forces we don’t understand! And that’s saying something, coming from a werewolf talking to a vampire ! More forces we don’t know means more risk. It means death!"

Carter paused, his jaw tightening as he met Ranger’s enraged stare head-on. "Yes, I agree. The situation looks bleak—desperate, even. But she’s still alive. She’s still out there, training, fighting to better herself, to figure out who she is and what she’s becoming. Adora hasn’t given up, and if you fall apart now, she’ll have no one to lean on. At the end of the day, Ranger, you’re her dad. And I’m Catra’s."

Ranger faltered, his hands curling into fists as Carter’s words sank in. Before he could respond, Carter’s ears twitched, catching faint voices from the lab. His face shifted, worry etching deep lines across his expression. Without a word, he turned sharply and stormed into the lab, leaving Ranger standing frozen in place, the weight of his own emotions rendering him momentarily still.

Inside the lab, Hordak and Frapta turned at the sound of Carter’s hurried footsteps. The tension in the room thickened as he approached, his gaze locking on Frapta with unrelenting intensity.

Carter’s voice cut through the silence, sharp and demanding. "How much time do we have? How long before this bond—this knot—starts to unravel completely?"

Frapta exhaled slowly, her shoulders visibly weighed down by the gravity of the situation. "Not long," she admitted, her voice steady but somber. "Adora’s body is changing faster every day. Each interaction with Catra accelerates the process. The signs are all there. If we don’t act soon..." She hesitated, her words faltering under the pressure of what she knew she had to say.

Ranger had followed Carter into the room, standing in the doorway as Frapta continued, her tone grim. "The problem is, we can’t put an exact timeline on it. We can’t predict when or how, but we know this: if something happens to Adora, something will happen to Catra. They are... intertwined in ways we don’t fully understand. And it’s likely to be catastrophic."

Her words hung in the air like a guillotine, the unspoken possibilities tightening the knot of dread in everyone’s chest.

The room fell into a tense silence, heavy with unspoken fears and grim resolve. Each of them felt the stakes weighing on their shoulders—the fragile line they walked between action and destruction.

Hordak’s voice broke the stillness, steady but cold. "Then we have no choice. We must move forward. No hesitation. No missteps. Because if we fail, we lose them."

As his words echoed through the room, the collective realization dawned: the weight of their next steps was greater than any of them had anticipated.

— back to adora and catra 

“What the hell was that, Adora?” Catra’s voice sliced through the air, sharp and unforgiving. His frustration radiated like heat as his narrowed eyes locked onto her. “You’re out here provoking River— River , of all people—after I explicitly told you to be careful around her. I explained how dangerous she is, and yet, I come back after just a moment of being gone to find you ready to throw down with her. What the hell is wrong with you?”

Adora whipped around, her face flushed with anger, her chest heaving. “So what? I’m not weak! I could take her! That’s the whole point of me training with you, isn’t it?”

Catra’s expression darkened, his frustration boiling over. “The fuck are you talking about, ‘not weak’ ? You are weak, Adora! That’s exactly why I’m training you!” he snapped, his voice rising. “And even if you did get stronger, it doesn’t mean you’re strong enough to fight her. You’re running around like this is some kind of game! Every wolf in this camp is here for life-or-death reasons. You? You’re here to figure out some answers, and that’s it. Stop acting like it’s more than that!”

Adora’s jaw tightened as her hands curled into fists at her sides. “You act like it’s so simple, but it’s not! Nothing about this is simple!” she shot back. “I just found out that we’re bonded—that our blood is connected in some theoretical, twisted way that could kill me . Do you think I’m supposed to just accept that?! You think I haven’t been running that through my head since the day I got here? And don’t act like you didn’t make me beg for your help!”

Catra straightened, his voice laced with cold fury. “Yeah, you did beg. And do you know why I hesitated to help you? Because I saved you once already. And I’ve been told— countless times —that maybe I shouldn’t have. So forgive me if I’m not exactly eager to save you all over again. You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings that day, Adora. You were careless. That’s why I had to step in. That’s why you needed saving. And now, instead of learning from it, you’re letting this mess dictate every choice you make. Welcome to reality! Nothing about our lives has ever been fair, but that doesn’t mean you get to act like the rules don’t apply to you.”

Adora’s voice trembled with raw emotion, her words spilling out like a flood breaking through a dam. “Because I have to, Catra! I have to fight it! Am I just supposed to sit here and accept that I’m alive because you saved me? That I’m walking around with borrowed time? Do you think that’s easy for me? I’m trying my hardest to deal with this reality—to find some way to be okay with it—but it’s not fair! None of this is fair! And you know what? You’re right. The whole world is damned. I might as well be dead ! Do you get how fucked up that is?”

Tears streamed down her face now, her voice cracking as the words tore out of her. “I don’t want to die, Catra. I don’t. But ever since that day—ever since you saved me—everything has been different. I can’t sleep. I can’t think straight. I dream about you. I daydream about you. And I hate it! I hear voice in the wind like some kind of ghost haunting me.still dont know what the fuck that is about  either And these powers I was supposed to be gaining? They’re gone! Every single day, I feel like I’m going backward—like I’m losing myself. Losing everything ! And just when I feel like I’m finally finding a shred of stability, some tiny piece of reality I can hold onto, there’s her . River. Ready to rip it all away from me again!”

Her voice rose into a scream, raw and unfiltered. “So yes, I’ll fight her! I’ll fight anyone! I’m done letting the world dictate my life. If she has a problem with me because I have the audacity to look at you as more than just a teacher—the guy who saved me when I probably should’ve been left for dead—then fine! Let her come! I’ll stand my ground. I’ll live my life, even if it means tomorrow is my last day!”

Catra stood frozen, her words crashing over him like a tidal wave. His lips parted, but no sound came out. He couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t even begin to process the storm of emotions she’d just unleashed. The weight of her confession hung heavy between them, the silence crackling like a wildfire.

Finally, he swallowed hard, his voice soft and almost hesitant. “You’ve been dreaming of me since that day?” His eyes met hers, serious and unreadable, his words barely above a whisper.

Adora’s breath hitched, the weight of her outburst crashing down on her. Tears stained her cheeks, her face flushed and trembling as she stared at him, her fists still clenched at her sides. Her voice wavered as she tried to respond, but the words wouldn’t come.

And then, Catra’s lips curved into the faintest of smiles—a quiet, bittersweet thing. “Me too,” he said softly, his voice blending with the wind, so faint it was almost lost to the world around them.

Adora’s eyes widened, a flicker of hope breaking through the storm of her emotions. For the first time, something unspoken passed between them—something fragile, yet undeniable.

– 

River was running. Her breath came in sharp, uneven gasps as she leaned against the rugged bark of a tree. The wind howled around her, weaving through the branches like it was echoing the turmoil in her mind. She pressed her forehead against the rough surface, eyes shut tight, but the chaos wouldn’t relent. The shouting in the distance—Catra and Adora’s voices—pierced through the wind, dragging her focus back to the present.

The argument grew louder with every step she took toward it, the words slashing through the air like blades. By the time she arrived, she was cloaked in shadow, unnoticed as she watched the heated exchange unfold. Jealousy twisted like a vice in her chest, suffocating and relentless. Their bond was unmistakable, unbreakable, and it crushed her. Her heart hammered in her chest, her breaths shallow and quick, and before she could stop herself, the familiar heat of her transformation began to take hold.

Catra’s final words to Adora were the spark that ignited her rage. Her body quaked, the primal shift tearing through her. Bones snapped and reshaped as her werewolf form emerged, a raw force of nature unleashed. The blinding anger consumed her, and a guttural growl tore from her throat before she lunged forward.

Adora didn’t see it coming. River slammed into her with bone-crushing force, the impact sending them both crashing to the ground. River’s fanged teeth sank into Adora’s throat, ripping through flesh as blood sprayed in a sickening arc. Adora’s strangled gasp filled the air, her eyes wide with shock, while Catra’s expression twisted into sheer horror.

“River! No!” Catra’s voice was a roar, primal and raw. He surged forward, yanking River off Adora with all his strength. But River was relentless, her snarls vicious as she thrashed against him, claws raking the air with wild desperation.

Catra’s muscles rippled as he shifted into his werewolf form, his towering presence dwarfing hers. They collided like titans, their feral snarls reverberating through the forest. Each strike landed with bone-jarring force, dust and debris erupting around them. River’s claws slashed across Catra’s chest, carving deep gashes, but he barely flinched. His focus was singular: end this fight.

With a final, decisive blow, Catra slammed his massive paw down on River’s head, the force driving her into the ground with a deafening crack. Bones shattered under the impact, and River let out a choked cry as blood pooled beneath her broken form. Her body convulsed, weak and trembling, as her strength ebbed away.

Catra staggered back, his chest heaving, blood dripping from his wounds. His golden eyes darted to Adora, who lay gasping, choking on her own blood. Her trembling hands pressed feebly against the gaping wound in her neck. Panic gripped Catra’s heart as he dropped to her side.

“Shit, no, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he pressed his hands against her neck in a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. “Adora, stay with me. Please, just stay with me.” His mind raced, but every thought spiraled into dread—she was slipping away.

Adora’s bloodstained face turned toward him, tears carving paths through the crimson on her cheeks. Her fangs, sharp and glinting, began to push through for the first time, her face contorting with pain. Her voice was faint, thick with blood, as she choked out, “I don’t... I don’t want to die, Catra.”

“Stop it,” Catra begged, tears streaming down his face. “Don’t say that. You’re going to be okay. You have to start healing, Adora. Please. Focus. Just start healing, or you’re going to die.” His voice broke, the desperation raw in every word.

He screamed into the night, his voice echoing through the empty expanse. “Crux! Someone, help! Please!” His hands trembled against Adora’s wound as he searched for a way to move her without causing further harm. But flashes of the past invaded his mind—his mother’s pale, lifeless face, her bloody hand brushing against his as she whispered her last words: Trust your instincts.

Adora’s bloodied hand reached up, weakly grasping his arm, pulling him back to the present. Her touch was faint, her strength fading fast. “No,” Catra muttered, shaking his head as his chest heaved with panicked breaths. Her desperate eyes locked onto his, pleading.

Her mouth opened, blood spilling over her lips as she gasped, “Please...”

Catra’s heart shattered as he saw the light in her eyes beginning to dim. “Adora, no,” he whispered, his voice trembling. Her fingers tugged at his arm again, softer this time, insistently. His mother’s voice whispered in his ear once more, her ghostly words urging him: Trust your instincts.

Reluctantly, he let Adora pull his arm closer, his jaw clenching as his own fangs extended. Pain flashed through him as Adora sank her fangs into his flesh. The bond flared to life, an ancient and raw connection that coursed through them like fire.

Adora’s eyes glowed faintly at first, then brighter, the luminous intensity mirrored in Catra’s. Her breath steadied, her body beginning to heal, but the bond left an indelible mark on them both. As Catra cradled her, his tears mingling with her blood, he whispered, “shhh ..You’re going to be okay. I promise.” his head  tilted back to the sky, “ i’m, im trusting you mom” . catra breathes out softly to the sky.

Chapter Text

POV: Catra

"I'm going to listen, Mom. I'm trusting you," the words spilled from my lips, shaky but resolute. My voice barely carried in the still air, thick with unspoken fears and the weight of the moment.

I glanced around—it was me as a child, standing in front of the gate with my mom. But something felt different, slightly distorted. I looked up at her; she was still so beautiful.

Her eyes, weary yet vibrant with unyielding love, met mine. They held a quiet strength that had carried me through countless storms, a lighthouse in my darkest nights. She reached out, her hand trembling yet firm, and rested it gently on my cheek. The warmth of her touch anchored me, grounding my scattered thoughts.

"You’ve always had what it takes," she whispered, her voice a melody of reassurance and conviction. "Trust your instincts, baby. They’ve brought you this far, and they won’t fail you now."

Her words wrapped around me like a shield, guarding the vulnerable spaces I rarely let anyone see. I wanted to believe her—needed to—but the storm in my heart roared louder, threatening to drown her voice.

The world felt like it was closing in, every sound amplified, every shadow stretching longer. Doubt clawed at the edges of my mind, whispering lies I wasn’t ready to face. But there she stood, unwavering, a pillar against the tide.

“Mom,” I choked out, my voice breaking under the weight of emotion. “What if I—what if I can’t? What if it all falls apart?”

Her grip tightened, her hand steady against the quivering of my soul. “Then you pick up the pieces, one by one. You don’t have to be perfect. You just have to be brave. And you are, even when you don’t see it.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, unbidden, carrying with it the fears I couldn’t yet voice. Her thumb brushed it away with the care only she could muster.

“Promise me,” she said, her tone soft but commanding. “Promise me you’ll trust yourself. You’ll fight for what you know is right, even when it feels impossible.”

“I promise,” I whispered, though the words felt heavy on my tongue.

“And remember,” she added, her lips curving into a faint, knowing smile. “I’ll always be here, even when you think I’m not. Listening. Watching. Believing in you.”

As she pulled me into her arms, the weight of her love settled over me—a balm to my restless heart. And in that moment, I decided that maybe, just maybe, trusting her meant learning to trust myself.

Present Time – POV: Catra

The rustle of my footsteps echoed faintly as I struggled to steady myself. Both women lay unconscious before me. The steady wind was haunting, swirling debris and silence around us.

River’s body was broken—every bone seemed shattered. She was bleeding from her nose, her pulse dangerously weak. Adora, though healing slowly, still lay lifeless. Since I’d given her my blood, the process had started, but she’d lost so much. The memory of her fangs piercing my skin, thick needles puncturing deep, still made my chest ache.

My own injuries lingered. River’s claws had cut deep, embedding dirt under the layers of my skin. It burned as my body worked tirelessly to heal itself. Only 20 minutes had passed since the chaos unfolded—River attacking Adora with a ferocity I hadn’t seen before. I had to act quickly, dragging both of their bodies back to camp while avoiding detection.

I bent down and slid my arms beneath their limp forms, cradling their heads to prevent further harm. With a single, strong jump, I propped them into my hold. They felt like fragile dolls in my grasp. I took the back road, a path rarely used for fear of getting lost, each step filled with tension.

Every sound made my heart race. I felt like a child again, standing beside my mother on that night she dragged me out to talk to the moon. The memory was suffocating, but I shook it off. I couldn’t afford to falter now.

Another 20 minutes passed, and the sun had fully set by the time I stood before the door. A new problem arose—I couldn’t open it.

“Hey,” a voice called out from the darkness.

I turned, slow enough not to startle myself. Crux rushed toward me, panic etched on his face.

“What happened?” he demanded, but I rolled my eyes.

“Just open the door,” I snapped. “I need to get them inside before anyone notices.”

He hurriedly opened it, and together we climbed four flights of stairs. Finally, we entered my apartment.

“Grab River and put her on the couch. Be careful—I don’t need her dying on me,” I instructed.

Crux nodded, though his face was riddled with questions. His hands were steady but cautious as he felt the broken bones in River’s body. Her head lolled, and he caught it, gently propping it on his shoulder. He placed her on the couch with care, straightening her fragile frame.

“She feels like rubber,” he muttered nervously, glancing back at me.

I gave him a look that said later . Turning to Adora, I carried her into my room and laid her on the bed. Her wounds were deep but no longer bleeding, though her blood-soaked hair and clothes stained my sheets.

When I returned to the living room, Crux was waiting, arms crossed.

“I need to know what happened,” he said, his tone firm.

I slumped to the floor, leaning against the far wall where shadows cloaked me. My head rested back as I took a deep breath.

“River attacked Adora,” I started, my voice low. “It all happened so fast. Me and Adora—we were arguing a little. I just wanted to know what was going on in her head. Then, out of nowhere, River came at her and tore a massive chunk out of her neck.”

Crux’s face twisted in shock as he glanced at River.

“I had no choice. I ripped her off Adora, but she wouldn’t stop. She started fighting me.”

His eyes dropped to my chest, where the last remnants of my wounds were fading.

“I had to shut her down. I slammed her into the ground so hard it broke every bone in her body. She wouldn’t stop, even then. I don’t know what set her off.”

Crux’s voice was quieter now. “What were you and Adora arguing about?”

“Does it matter?” I shot back.

“It does matter. Whatever you said might’ve set her off. Wait—how is Adora even alive? You told me her body takes hours before healing even starts.”

I met his gaze. “I gave her my blood.”

“What?” Crux’s voice rose in disbelief. “Why?”

“Shhh,” I hissed, standing up. “Not so loud. I’ve got a headache.” I walked into the kitchen, and of course, Crux followed.

"Look, it's not like I wanted to—she was dying," I breathed out, exhaustion heavy in my voice.

Crux’s expression was a mixture of shock and resignation as he glanced at River's lifeless form. I took another breath and steadied myself. "Give River your blood. She's taking too long to heal. She’s dying."

Without hesitation, Crux nodded and knelt beside her. Gently, he opened her mouth and ripped his wrist open, letting his blood drip down her throat. I turned away, my mind clouded with guilt and frustration, and headed toward the fridge. Pulling out a bottle of water and a beer, I chugged the water first, then the beer, letting the sharp bitterness numb me momentarily. I threw the empty bottle into the trash and placed the glass in the sink with more force than necessary.

As I leaned against the counter, I spoke, my voice low and firm. “If she looks like she’s waking up, shut her down, Crux. Adora’s still healing, and her blood is soaking my bed. Her scent is already everywhere in the apartment. I don’t need a replay of earlier.”

I paused, my eyes drifting to Rivers pale, still form on my  couch. The sight of her tore at something deep within me—a love I once clung to, now a painful reminder of everything I’d lost. Shaking the thought away, I turned back to Crux.

“Watch them,” I instructed, the words clipped. Then I walked to the bathroom and shut the door behind me.

Two Years Ago

The sound of glass shattering against the wall snapped me from my thoughts. I ducked instinctively as shards flew past my head.

“You said her fucking name again, Catra!” River’s voice was a tempest, raw and furious. Her eyes burned, their usual crystalline blue now glowing with barely contained power. “While you were fucking me! Is my body not enough for you? Is my pussy not good enough?”

“River, relax!” I rushed toward her, grabbing her by the arms to calm her down. “It was a slip. I wasn’t doing anything!”

She wrenched herself free from my grasp, her eyes narrowing as her voice dropped into something even more venomous. “Do I look like an idiot to you? Do you think I wouldn’t know the difference between you calling me ‘adorable’ and you saying her name?”

I opened my mouth to defend myself, but she shoved me back. “This is the third time, Catra. The third time! I told you—you were different after saving that girl. Now, you're saying her name while you're supposed to be making love to me. Just tell me the truth! What’s happening to you?”

Her desperation was palpable, laced into every syllable of her words. I felt it like a dagger in my chest.

“I…” My voice faltered. I shook my head and took a step back, running a hand through my hair. “I just need a minute, okay? Please, don’t leave. Just… give me a minute.”

Her expression was torn, teetering between anger and heartbreak, but she didn’t move to leave. I took the opportunity to retreat to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

I leaned over the sink, gripping its edges as I stared at my reflection. My breath came in uneven bursts.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself. “Stop screwing this up. River’s hot. You’ve got this. Stop thinking about some teenager. You’re about to be an adult. You’re not a freak. Get your shit together.”

I splashed cold water on my face, letting it jolt me back to the present. Straightening up, I puffed out my chest, forcing a confidence I didn’t feel.

When I stepped back into the room, River was lying naked on the bed, her back turned to me. She was beautiful, even in her anger, her scent filling the space like a drug I couldn’t resist. But her shoulders were trembling. Her face was buried in the pillow, and I knew she was crying.

I climbed into bed and pressed my body against hers, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her close.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured against her shoulder. My voice softened, breaking under the weight of my own guilt. “Okay? I… I know I’m different. I don’t know why. I just feel… off. But I’ll be better. I’m sorry for lying to you. Please forgive me. Let me make it up to you.”

I kissed her shoulder, letting my lips linger against her skin. She turned her head slightly, her tear-streaked face meeting mine.

“Then do it,” she said softly, her voice daring me.

I smiled faintly, a glimmer of hope flickering in my chest. And I tried. I really tried.

I kissed her, feeling the soft tissue of her breast in my palm. I squeezed gently, my lips trailing from her neck back to her mouth. I paused just before deepening the kiss, shifting her body to avoid the awkward angle. Pulling her closer to me, I ran my hands over her, marveling at the contrast between her softness and the hardness of my own body.

I loved her. She was everything that kept me tethered to sanity after my mother died. She held me together through the grueling pace of my uncle’s training, witnessing every moment of my breaking and healing. She stitched my wounds before they had the chance to bleed deeper.

A tear clung to my lips as I kissed hers, savoring the peace of this fleeting moment. She fell asleep in my arms, her claws pressing into my skin as if daring me to move. If I tried, it felt as though she would tear through me to keep me there.

Gently, I whispered, "I need to go to the bathroom." Her claws retracted in her sleep.

I slipped out of the bed and made my way down the steps, leaving the sanctuary of her warmth behind.

In the kitchen, my father was making a sandwich. Without turning, he said, “Your apartment will be ready soon, so I don’t have to hear you two bicker, yell, and then… you know. Trust me, no father wants to hear that.”

I laughed dryly and went to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of water. My father kept working on his sandwich, but his words lingered.

After a moment of silence, I broke it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Every day, I try to stay loyal, and it was fine. But now… something’s changed, Dad. I can’t stop it. And River… she’s—”

“She’s perceptive. Extremely perceptive,” he cut in, turning to face me. He held his sandwich in one hand, his expression steady.

I nodded, sighing as I looked out the kitchen window. Beyond it, the night wolves kept watch over the camp. The twisting shadows outside mirrored the turmoil in my gut.

“I love her,” I confessed, my voice cracking under the weight of the truth. “But that love… it’s changing. Another love is taking over, and I don’t even know it. I don’t know her, Dad. I don’t know this girl who’s ripping my love from me. And I don’t want it.”

My father took a bite of his sandwich, chewing thoughtfully before ripping a piece off and handing it to me. “Life isn’t always fair,” he said simply.

I stared at the food in my hand, struggling to hold back tears. “I don’t know how to tell River,” I whispered. “She’s everything I want to love, but…”

“She’s a fighter,” my father said, cutting me off. “She’ll fight with every fiber of her being to keep you. That’s why she’s with you. You’ve been her everything since she was eight years old. Do you remember that? When your mother died, she crawled into your bed, curled around you, and licked your wounds—healed you when you couldn’t. Her love for you is deep, Catra. It’s embedded. The only way to remove it would be to cut it out.”

Carter took a bite of his sandwich, chewing slowly, his face unreadable. After a moment, he tore off a piece and handed it to me.

“Life isn’t always fair,” he said, his voice low and steady.

He glanced up at the top of the steps, his gaze lingering as if the weight of the world rested there. Then he turned back to me. “I don’t know how to help you, son. Losing love? That, I get. But replacing it? That’s a whole different kind of pain. Just… don’t.”

His words hung heavy in the air, cutting deeper than I expected.

His words hit me like a blow to the chest, their weight settling heavily in the silence that followed.

“One day, you’re going to have to stop running from her,” he continued. “Be straight with her. Or…” He paused, his eyes sharp as they met mine. “Give her something—a piece of yourself—for her to hold onto forever. If you don’t, she’ll tear herself apart trying to keep you.”

I swallowed hard. “You won’t be mad?” I asked, my voice small.

Carter shook his head, his gaze unwavering.

As I lay in my bed, Carter's words linger in the air, heavy and suffocating, like worms writhing in a pit of dirt.

I turned my gaze to River, thoughts colliding in my head as I tried to figure out how to say it—or if I should even say it at all. Maybe I should just act, let things happen, but I knew she'd figure it out before I could explain. My mind danced with the chaos, torn between telling her now or waiting until later, until the right moment.

“A baby,” I muttered under my breath, the words barely escaping my lips.

Soft, clawed fingers brushed against my face, gentle at first, but then one hooked beneath my chin, tilting my head with deliberate slowness. The pressure was light but firm, a warning wrapped in tenderness, and I found myself staring into her storm-filled eyes.

“What baby?” she asked, her voice low but already alive with anger, her eyes sharp and unrelenting.

I smiled faintly, the kind of smile meant to disarm, but it only seemed to ignite her further. “You’re very easy to get mad at me lately,” I teased.

She rolled her eyes, but her claws didn’t release me. “What baby?” she repeated, her tone now something I couldn’t quite read—somewhere between exasperation and something darker.

I let out a low hum, a small noise meant to stall, before answering softly. “I was just… thinking about what our baby would look like.”

Her glowing anger dimmed immediately, the fire in her eyes retreating as confusion and vulnerability took its place. She glanced down at herself, her hands retreating to her sides.

She sniffed once, almost imperceptibly. “I’m not, so why—”

“Because I want one with you,” I interrupted, my voice steady and unwavering. The confidence in my tone caught her off guard, slicing through her doubt like a blade.

Her gaze softened, her claws retracting completely, and for a moment, the storm between us was quiet.

Her desire for a baby was apparent in her eyes as she gazed at me, longing and hopeful. I turned my head to the ceiling, searching for the right words before finally admitting, "I want you to have a piece of me always and forever, if possible. I want something in this world that's both of us." It was a mixture of truth and lies, but mostly the truth. My reasons may have been skewed, but the love I felt for her was undeniable. 

As she leaned in to kiss me, I couldn't resist pulling her closer, deepening our connection. Like before, a fire ignited within me, fueled by my desire for her. I showed her how much I loved her through my touch, pushing her body into the mattress with primal force. The sound of creaking springs filled the room as I dominated her, driven by a need that felt as vital as air itself.

Running my hand down her body, I couldn't help but let my claws slightly break the skin as I spread her legs and continued our passionate kiss. Her arms wrapped around me tightly, grabbing at my face with her own sharp nails that left marks on my skin. Breaking the kiss momentarily, she licked up the blood from my cuts, eliciting a growl from deep within me. As I pushed her back down onto the bed and licked her lips stained with my blood, I could feel the wildness taking over.

With hands clawing at each other's bodies and hearts racing with anticipation, we surrendered ourselves to each other completely. Her claws raked against my back as I aligned myself with her entrance and felt the wetness pooling between us. Inhaling deeply, I took in all of her scent before thrusting softly but firmly inside of her. She gasped at first but soon adjusted to the angle made possible by my thigh propping up hers.

Using all of my strength and power, I raked my clawed hand up her thigh and hooked it just under her knee, pulling her leg back and spreading her wider for me. This gave me complete control as I moved above her, thrusting harder and harder with no regard for her pleasure, only my own. It was as if I had won the right to own her and I took everything she had to give me.

As she reached her first orgasm, a quiet scream escaped her lips and the veins in her neck bulged against her skin. Despite the dry gasps of air she struggled to take in, I didn't let up. Continuing to thrust relentlessly, I forced more and more orgasms from her until she became nothing but a puddle of sweat and came beneath me. The sheets were already ruined by our passion - torn and stained with blood, cum, and claw marks.

For four days straight, I kept her in my room, leaving only to bring her water. My determination knew no bounds and she reveled in being claimed by me - in this twisted version of heaven we had created for ourselves within the confines of hell.

Each thought in my mind raced with hesitation and uncertainty, wondering if this was right, if this was okay. But as she smiled at me, all of those doubts faded away. We were just us again, the way it's always meant to be. 

A couple a days later, my father told me my apartment was ready and that i need to finish it a man should finish his own house carter laughed,  me and some of my friends where putting the finishing touches to my place panting and putting up posters and last  minute shit, we were laughing and joking around.  

Then she came running into my apartment, bursting through the door as I and some of the guys were wrapping up our conversation. "Cat," she panted breathlessly. I stood up from my seat on the couch and walked over to her, pulling her into a deep kiss that left us both breathless.

 "Come with me," she whispered between kisses. "I have to tell you something." The taste of her lips was different, and I knew immediately that something had changed. We walked out onto the rooftop, the wind whipping through our hair as we looked out at the camp below.

 "She's beautiful," I murmured, but then a wipers came and there was a hint of sadness in the  voice. " Beautiful but  she's not the one." It hit me like a bullet or a punch to the gut -  the whisper grew louder in my head as the wind swirled like whips “She's not the one," the whisper turned into a shout inside my head. I covered my ears, trying to block out the words, and River ran to me in concern. "Are you okay, Cat?" she asked, her hand gently brushing against my cheek. "Look at me, what's wrong?" I pushed her away, trying to compose myself. 

I blinked rapidly and regained control of my body, standing tall and shaking slightly as I walked towards River once again. I couldn't resist kissing her deeply, breathing in her scent and savoring the new taste that mingled with my blood - rotten yet somehow irresistible to me. 

My eyes glowed with intensity and so did hers as I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her close. But before things could go any further, River stopped me with a whisper. 

"I need to tell you first," she said. But I couldn't wait any longer - I could smell it, the tantalizing scent of her arousal, and I wanted to celebrate now. I tugged at her shirt, pulling it off and kissing my way down her body until I was on my knees where I belonged. I took her feet in my hands and removed her pants, inhaling the sweet, musky scent of her sweat and desire.

 My tongue laced over her skin, tracing patterns as I made my way to her panties before sliding them down with my teeth. And then, finally, I tasted her - wet, warm, and ready to please me. As I looked up at her face, the one that I knew I would love forever, I couldn't resist plunging deeper into her and devouring her pleasure as if it were my own, eating my way to her heart. 

Nine months later 

River lay in bed, unmoving since the day our child came into this world unalive. I had tried countless times to pull her out of the void she’d sunk into, but every attempt was met with her clawed hands pushing me away and venomous growls that stung deeper than any words ever could. The pain was raw, endless. Two days after his birth, we buried our son.

The doctors on the surface claimed he hadn’t survived because he hadn’t been properly nourished, that he required more care than what the camp could provide. They insisted that pregnant werewolves needed to return below, where resources and specialized care were available. But River had refused. She didn’t want to be left alone, and I wasn’t allowed to return below by the council. So, we stayed. And now, that decision felt like a betrayal of everything we had tried to build.

I couldn’t forget the conversation that had sealed our fate—the promise that staying together would make us stronger. But in the end, we had failed. And our child had paid the price.

Anger roared within me, an unrelenting storm of guilt and helplessness. As much as I tried to push it away, the shadow of Adora haunted me. She lingered in my dreams, her presence like a siren’s call, pulling at my soul. My body screamed to run to her,The desire to feel whole was calling to feel warmth again from the cold i lived in . But I couldn’t. I had a life here, one I was supposed to build with someone else.

When I returned to our apartment, the sound of River’s sobs seeped through the walls, raw and relentless. My heart shattered all over again. I rested my head against the door, the weight of my failure suffocating me. I had broken her, shattered her spirit into irreparable pieces. My own fractures mirrored hers, but for a different reason—I was torn between the woman who needed me and the one who had somehow stolen  a part of my soul. How I'm still unclear but adoras soul called out every night and day to be whole. 

My thoughts spiraled as I stood there, frozen. I could feel myself splitting in two, the war within me threatening to consume what little was left. I had ruined everything. River had no more tears to cry, I had  no more love to give, and I had no right to ask for her to continue giving me her love . Our last thread of hope, our child, was gone, and with him, my last shred of belief in a future here with her - river.

I was lost. 

"We need to break up, River," I said, sitting on the edge of the bed. My voice was steady, but the weight of those words crushed me inside.

She rolled over to face me, her eyes hollow but burning with rage. "Wow," she spat, her voice venomous, "just after our kid dies? I'm sorry I killed your dream."

I shook my head, trying to hold onto my composure. "I need time. You need time. We lost something..." I paused, my chest tightening. "I've lost a lot, okay? I need time to process," I said, the truth mingling with a lie I couldn’t swallow fast enough.

She moved within the bed, her motions sharp and violent, and before I could react, her foot connected with my head. The force sent me flying off the bed, crashing hard onto the ground.

"I lost my fucking child, " she screamed, sitting up, tears streaming down her face. "The one you asked for! I'm so sorry I couldn't keep him alive for you, okay? But you're fucked for this—breaking us now?"

I growled low in my throat, forcing myself to my knees. "It's not about that, River. I lost him too, okay? I just need time to figure it all out..." The words tumbled out, shaky and raw. "I’m fucking lost, okay? I'm different. I don’t know what’s happening to me, and now I’m dealing with that, and trying to love you, and trying to help you with this loss—when I don’t even know who the fuck I am right now! Shit, I just need time! I need to figure out what’s going on. I feel like I’m being ripped in half, and I don’t know why!"

The tears came fast, hot, and blinding. "It feels like it’s my fault, okay? What if it was my blood? What if I’m the reason he didn’t make it? What if..." My voice cracked as I struggled to breathe. "What if I’m fucked because my love for you has changed? Why were you allowed to carry my child when I—"

She cut me off, her voice shaking but sharp. " Before what? Before you left me?" Her tears were unstoppable now, carving lines of grief and fury into her face. "You wanted to leave me with something before you walked away? For what? For some fucking fantasy swirling in your head that you don’t even understand? You’re willing to throw us away for that ? Fuck you, Cat."

She climbed out of bed and started grabbing clothes, shoving them into a bag with trembling hands. I scrambled to my feet and reached for her, but she shoved me off violently.

"Please, listen to me, River!" I begged, dropping to my knees. "I’m sorry, okay? I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s happening to me, but I can’t keep lying to you. Please, forgive me. Don’t leave."

She looked down at me, her face a storm of pain and betrayal. "Get off me, Cat. I’ll give you the space you want." She shoved me again, her strength surprising, and I let her go. I watched her storm out of the apartment, her rage and sadness consuming the air around her.

I stayed there, collapsed on the floor, weeping. My thoughts raced in a chaotic storm of confusion. My body felt electrified, like white-hot currents were surging through my veins, purifying and burning me from the inside out. I stumbled to the mirror, gasping for breath, and froze when I saw it—a glowing, burning heart hovering above my chest.

The whisper came, carried by the wind that burst through the open window. She’s coming for you, it hissed.

I turned, my blood turning to ice, and saw shadows shifting in the corner of the room. They loomed, dark and menacing, creeping closer. In my panic, I stumbled backward and slammed into the dresser.

One of the shadows crouched low, leaning into my face, its presence suffocating. " She was never our master, " it hissed, its voice like nails scraping against my mind. " But my love will return soon. "

I stuttered, trembling as I tried to speak. "You took my kid from me," I choked out, rage and despair fueling my words. "I saw you—I watched as you loomed over him, as you took his soul from his body. I said nothing. I couldn’t stop you."

The shadow’s form twisted and darkened. " It was born in the wrong body, " it rasped. " She is strong, but not the one who will bring our kind back. "

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I shouted, my voice trembling, teetering between rage and desperation.

The shadow loomed closer, its presence suffocating and cold, like the air had been stolen from the room. Its voice curled with cruel amusement, each word cutting through me like shards of glass. "I can give her another one," it hissed, the weight of its promise dripping with something sinister. "But you must answer the question."

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. My chest tightened as the shadow leaned in closer, its darkness folding around me like a vice. " Why do you want a child with her? " it demanded, its voice low, yet echoing as though it spoke directly to my soul.

I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came. My thoughts spiraled, tangled in confusion, guilt, and something deeper—something I couldn’t name.

Before I could muster a response, it released me. The oppressive weight of its presence lifted abruptly, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for air.

The shadow began to retreat, its form dissolving into the corners of the room like smoke drawn away by an unseen force. It left me there, trembling, with the storm of questions it had planted spinning violently in my mind. Unanswered. Unrelenting.

Present time 

The soap slid off his body as the hot water streamed down, the bathroom thick with steam. He let the heat engulf him, hoping it could burn away the guilt, pain, anger, and sadness warring within him. Both worlds seemed to collide in his mind, the shadow's question ringing endlessly in his head: Why do you want a child with her?

With a sharp inhale, he turned off the shower. The silence was deafening, but he ignored it as he grabbed a bottle of lotion, rubbing it methodically into his skin. Wrapping a towel around himself, he walked into his room, his movements mechanical and detached. He quickly dressed—a plain black shirt, shorts, socks, and sneakers—and rushed out of the room, the urgency of his thoughts pressing him forward.

As he moved, the sound startled Crux, who stirred from where he had been resting. His sharp eyes darted to catra then to toward River, who was lying still but catra rushed towrederd her  suddenly shifted, biting into his own arm. Rivers' eyes glinted was unmissable—something primal, desperate as it cracked open .

“River,” Catra said cautiously, his voice low and measured. “Slowly. Drink.”

Crux rushed forward, his expression one of alarm, but before he could reach her, River sunk her fangs harshly and deeply into Catra’s arm. The bite was fierce, and for a moment, everything seemed to freeze. River swallowed, her body trembling as she released her grip.

Catra’s eyes glowed with an unearthly intensity as she whispered, “Watch, Adora. I have something to give to River.”

River’s body began to heal almost instantly, the wounds  and bond bedding back together river  grounded in pain from her bone snapping back together and skin stitching itself back to its rightful form, as her body knitting themselves together as if reversing time. Catra moved with calm precision, picking River up as though she weighed nothing. Without another word, Catra carried her out of the apartment, leaving a stunned Crux behind.

River was fully healed by the time they returned to her apartment.

“What do you want? Put me down,” she huffed, her voice sharp with defiance.

Catra dropped her without hesitation. She hit the floor with a dull thud, coughing as the lingering echoes of pain coursed through her body—the reminder of Catra’s brutal blow in the mountains that had shattered nearly every bone in her frame.

She groaned, forcing herself upright. “What the fuck were, huh?” she spat.

Catra’s eyes burned with barely contained fury as he stepped forward. “What was I thinking ?” he growled, his voice a menacing edge. “You could have killed her—you know that,” he snarled, his voice low and brimming with frustration.

Before she could respond, he surged forward, grabbing her face with a rough but deliberate grip. His claws extended, puncturing her skin just enough to remind her of his strength and his anger. Her breath caught as his face hovered inches from hers, his tone turning raw and rasping, a mixture of rage and vulnerability.

“I love you, River. I want to have a child with you,” he said, his voice trembling with emotion. “Because I know you’d be an amazing mother—even though you’re fucking insane . I want a piece of you with me, always. Something no one can take away.” His eyes, bright with intensity, darted briefly to the shadows of the room before returning to hers, as if he were speaking both to her and some unseen force.

River froze, her breath hitching. The words should have shattered her defenses, but instead, they ignited something primal in her. The fire in her eyes flickered with something like understanding—or perhaps challenge.

Leaning back slightly, she tilted her head, her lips curving into a faint, defiant smirk. Her voice was steady as she spoke, each word deliberate.

“Then give me back what I lost.”

The weight of her words hung in the air, heavy with pain and unspoken promises.

—- 

Crux paced the room for two days, his nerves fraying with each passing hour. He couldn’t stop thinking about Adora, lying there as Catra had asked him to keep watch. His worry deepened, not only for her but for River too. Were they still fighting? Or, worse, had something happened to them? He couldn’t shake the gnawing fear that Catra might have buried River’s body or that they’d been attacked. His frantic thoughts spiraled, and the weight of helplessness pressed harder with every minute that passed.

Adora stirred suddenly, breaking the suffocating silence. Her body convulsed, wracked by violent coughing as she spit up thick chunks of blood onto Catra’s bed.

Crux rushed to her side, his hands trembling as he grabbed a glass of water. “Hey, hey, breathe. Just try to breathe, okay?” he said, his voice calm but strained with urgency.

Adora nodded weakly, struggling to draw in shallow breaths. Crux rubbed her back in soothing circles, trying to ground her. “Here, drink this. Slowly,” he said, pressing the glass into her shaking hands. He glanced at the faint marks on her neck. They had finally healed, but it had taken far too long. Catra had been right—Adora’s healing process was excruciatingly slow, and with the amount of blood she’d lost, it had taken a full two days to stabilize her.

“he didn’t want you and River waking up in the same space—especially not here,” Crux added quietly, glancing around the room. His voice carried a mix of sympathy and unease. This place was Catra’s sanctuary, a space steeped in memories, and the tension of recent events lingered like a ghost.

Adora nodded faintly, her voice barely a whisper. “How long was I out?”

Crux softened his tone further, sensing her fragility. “Two days. I’ve been here the whole time. My dad and yours are probably worried, but no one knows what happened between you and River.”

Adora’s gaze dropped as she processed his words. After a moment, she looked up, her voice still soft. “Can I shower?”

Crux nodded quickly, standing. “Yeah, of course. Your stuff from last time is still in the bathroom. Go ahead.”

Adora moved toward the bathroom, her steps unsteady but determined. Crux sighed, running a hand through his hair, the tension in his chest refusing to ease.

A sharp knock at the door shattered the momentary quiet. Crux hurried to answer, his pulse quickening as Carter pushed past him, his face etched with worry.

“Where the fuck are they?” Carter demanded, his voice a mixture of panic and frustration. He stormed into the room but stopped abruptly, his nostrils flaring as he caught the lingering scent of Adora’s blood.

“She woke up a few hours ago,” Crux said quickly, stepping in front of Carter to block his path. “She’s in the shower. She’s okay now.”

“What the hell happened?” Carter asked, his tone laced with both anger and concern.

Crux hesitated, shifting uncomfortably under Carter’s piercing gaze. “Adora and River... got into a fight,” he admitted, his voice quieter now.

Carter’s face dropped, a mix of disbelief and dread crossing his features. He took a step forward, but Crux raised a hand, stopping him.

“They’re both fine,” Crux reassured him, though his voice betrayed his own lingering doubts. The weight of everything—the blood, the tension, the unanswered questions—hung heavily in the air. Crux swallowed hard, trying to suppress the nervous energy creeping through his body.

Carter’s fists clenched at his sides, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the room. “Where’s Catra?”

Crux hesitated again, his jaw tightening. “Gone. Took River somewhere.”

The room fell silent except for the faint sound of water running in the bathroom. The storm brewing within each of them felt palpable, ready to erupt but held at bay by the fragile truce of the moment.

Catra stepped out of the shower, the steam curling around him like a lingering embrace. He grabbed a towel, running it over his damp skin, which bore countless marks—silent remnants of the hours he and River had spent together. They had fought, loved, and collided in ways that left more than just physical traces. His body ached for rest, but the turmoil in his chest demanded attention. He needed to check on Adora.

He moved quietly through the hall, his footsteps soft against the floor. Entering the room, he saw River already there, pulling a shirt over her shoulders with slow, deliberate movements. She stopped when she noticed him, her eyes searching his as if looking for answers neither of them could give.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft and trembling, as if the words themselves might shatter.

Catra sighed deeply, running his fingers through his wet hair before sitting on the edge of the bed. He stared at his hands for a moment, the weight of everything he had kept hidden pressing on him. “I’m sorry too,” he said, his voice raw and uneven. “I should’ve told you from the beginning—about everything. But it was... confusing. Every time I thought I understood, it slipped through my hands. I should’ve been honest, and I wasn’t. I’m sorry.”

River lowered herself beside him, the bed dipping under their shared weight. She leaned her head against his shoulder, her warmth grounding him in the moment. “So what now?” she asked, her voice breaking slightly. “Is this... is this it? Are we done for good?”

Catra wrapped an arm around her, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. His voice softened, laced with tenderness and regret. “I love you,” he said. “And we’ll never be over—not in the way we’ll always be there for each other. But... romantically? I think we’ve reached the end of our road.”

River nodded slowly, her face calm but her eyes filled with a deep, unspoken sadness. She had cried so much already; there were no more tears left. “I think we’re done too,” she whispered. “But it’s hard. I’ve never known a world where you weren’t mine.”

Catra let out a small, bittersweet laugh. “I’ll always be yours, in a way,” he said, his gaze distant. “Just not like before.” He hesitated, carefully choosing his next words. “I love Adora. I know how it sounds, and I know it’s crazy. But there’s something about it I can’t run from. My soul won’t let me. I need to figure it out.”

River pulled back slightly, looking up at him. “I just don’t want you lying to me,” she said firmly. “I don’t want to lose what’s ours, even if it’s different now.”

Catra nodded, his heart aching with the weight of their shared truth. “I won’t lie. And I’ll always want something that’s ours... something we created. Even if it’s selfish.”

River’s hand came up to his face, her touch soft but resolute. She kissed him gently, her lips lingering as if sealing a quiet agreement. “We’re both selfish,” she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips.

They shared a moment of understanding, the kind that came only after years of knowing someone completely. Catra rose from the bed, adjusting the towel around his waist. At the door, he turned back, his gaze lingering on her. “If you’re pregnant,” he began, his voice hesitant but sincere, “and I think you might be... go below. I’ll find my way to you.”

River nodded, but something in her posture shifted. She hesitated, her voice quieter now. “You saw what killed him, didn’t you?”

Catra froze, his claws instinctively extending as he gripped the doorframe. His shoulders stiffened, but he eventually nodded, his face a mask of tension.

“I’m not asking for details,” River said softly. “I just need to know it wasn’t my fault... wasn’t our fault.”

Catra turned to her, his gaze fierce but filled with an unspoken tenderness. “It was never your fault,” he said firmly. “I promise you that. If anything, I should’ve thought harder, fought harder. Even if I didn’t know what I was fighting. But this time... I will.”

River exhaled slowly, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. “I might stay below,” she said after a pause. “I miss it. The surface is... fine, but it’s not home anymore.”

Catra nodded, his understanding silent but absolute. Without another word, he stepped through the door, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the delicate threads of their unraveling yet unbreakable bond.

—- 

When Catra walked through the door, Cruxs was gone, but the unmistakable scent of his father lingered in the room. He sighed heavily, closing the door behind him and locking it out of habit. As he moved to open another door, he froze. Adora stood there, naked and startled.

“Shit,” he muttered, immediately averting his gaze and slamming the door shut.

Adora’s blush flared across her entire body, a deep crimson hue. “Oh, I’m so sorry!” she stammered from behind the door. “I didn’t hear you come in, or I would’ve locked it.”

Catra chuckled awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “Nah, it’s fine. I just… I thought you left with my father and Cruxs. I didn’t smell you because, well…” He paused, his words trailing off. “It’s complicated.”

Adora quickly grabbed a towel and wrapped it tightly around herself before cracking the door open. Her face was still flushed. “You can come in,” she said, hesitating slightly. “It is your room, after all. I’ll just wait, or maybe…” She looked down, embarrassed. “Maybe you could pick something out for me to wear? I don’t have anything else, and, um... this is your place.”

Catra grinned, his expression softening. “Sure.” He pushed the door open and walked past her, heading straight for the dresser. After rummaging for a moment, he pulled out a pair of sweatpants, a T-shirt, a hoodie, and some socks. Tossing them to her, he added with a smirk, “And these.” He grabbed a pair of slippers and handed them over.

Adora caught the clothes with a shy smile. “Thanks.”

Catra grabbed a similar set of clothes for himself and disappeared into the bathroom. They both took their time getting ready, the weight of unspoken thoughts hanging in the air.

When Catra emerged, Adora was fully dressed, standing in the middle of the room. Her hands fidgeted nervously as her gaze fixated on the bed, now stained with her blood. Her body was still, but her mind seemed to race.

Catra walked over, his voice soft and steady. “It’s okay. How are you feeling? You lost a lot of blood, and you had to…”

Adora cut him off, her voice calm but firm. “Drink your blood.”

Catra nodded, his ears twitching slightly.

“I don’t feel bad,” she continued, looking down at her hands and flexing her fingers. Her voice carried a mix of wonder and uncertainty. “Actually, I feel… alive. Strong. I don’t know how to explain it, but I’m different now. It’s like everything is the same but not. I can hear the world in a way I couldn’t before.”

She paused, her eyes darting toward the window. “That’s what woke me up, actually. I heard a deer get mauled by a mountain lion. It was so vivid, I thought it was happening right here. And then I woke up, hacking blood. Sorry about your bed.”

Catra laughed softly, shaking his head. “Don’t worry about it. Beds can be replaced.”

Adora’s expression shifted to one of quiet guilt. “How are you feeling? I mean... this is all because of me.”

Catra’s smile faltered. “Do you want the truth? I feel like I failed you. I should’ve reacted faster. Should’ve hurt her—stopped her somehow. But I didn’t, and now you’ve paid for it.” His voice cracked as he finished, his guilt threatening to overwhelm him.

Adora walked closer, stopping him with her words once again. Her voice was resolute and unwavering. "I'm not angry at you," she repeated, locking eyes with him. "Am I upset? Absolutely - at the situation, at what happened. But not at you." She paused, her expression softening as she let out a slow, controlled breath. "Some things just need to happen."

Catra nodded, feeling his tension release as her words sank in. His shoulders, previously tense with guilt, began to relax. "Let's get out of here," he suggested, his tone lighter but still serious. "Our dads are probably worried."

Adora smiled slightly, her hand gently brushing against his arm. "Lead the way," she murmured softly yet determinedly.

For a brief moment, they simply stood there, eyes locked in a silent conversation neither dared to speak aloud. The air between them felt heavy, charged with an unspoken desire that neither could fully articulate. Without realizing it, their hearts beat in perfect sync, echoing the profound stillness of the moment.

They both turned and left the apartment. As they exited the building, a cool rush of fresh air swirled around them, carrying with it a subtle shift, a hint of something new. Catra spoke as he stepped down the path, his voice calm but purposeful. “Let’s go this way.”

Adora nodded, following him closely. They walked side by side, their steps matching in an unintentional rhythm. Behind them, in the hazy distance, trailed two shadowy figures—one dark, one light.

The air seemed to change as they continued down the path, a tangible difference they could both feel but neither mentioned. The shadowy forms moved closer, their presence unmistakable. One dark, one light, walking side by side, now closer than ever to the pair ahead.

Chapter Text

POV: Adora

Catra and I were walking back to the lab to explain everything that had just happened. It was a Wednesday—the day my father and I were supposed to head back home to our family. I knew my mother had been waiting patiently for our return, and the thought of seeing her filled me with a mixture of longing and guilt. I missed them all so much. Yet, despite the urgency of our task, I couldn’t help but enjoy the walk.

Each step felt electric, as if I were truly alive for the first time. This—whatever this was—made me feel whole in a way I had never experienced before. As we made our way down the gentle slope of the forest trail, leaving the dorm apartments behind, I let myself sink into the moment. The world felt sharper, clearer. The wind danced through the grass, whispering secrets. I could hear the squirrels burying their treasures in the earth, the foxes darting stealthily through the underbrush, and the boars wading noisily through waters far in the distance. Even the flutter of birds’ wings overhead felt amplified, and I watched as a stray feather floated gently to the ground.

Every sound, every movement, every detail seemed to pulse with life, and for once, I allowed myself to bask in it. But then, something new caught my attention—a subtle, almost imperceptible cracking sound. My ears twitched as I honed in on its source, my gaze drifting to Catra.

That’s when I noticed it—the faint fractures in his skin, the way his body seemed to be constantly healing and shifting. The sound of his bones breaking and mending, over and over, was like a haunting rhythm. My eyes lingered on him, drawn to the way his muscles flexed beneath his shirt, the tension rippling through him as though his very form was in rebellion.

I murmured under my breath, almost to myself, “He’s in a constant state of change…”

The thought unsettled me, but it also fascinated me. How long had this been happening to him? Did he even know? My heart clenched at the possibility that he might have been silently enduring this for years, unaware or unwilling to share the burden.

And yet, I couldn’t ignore the way my thoughts began to wander, unbidden, down a path I knew they shouldn’t. There was something raw and captivating about the way his body moved, his quiet resilience masking the internal war raging beneath the surface. Heat crept into my cheeks, and I quickly shook my head, willing away the images that had begun to form.

But before I could center myself, an overwhelming heaviness settled over me like a weight I couldn’t carry. My body faltered, my steps growing unsteady. The world around me blurred, and I stumbled forward, my balance slipping from beneath me.

“C-Catra…” I managed to whisper, my voice weak and trembling, just as the darkness closed in and everything went black.

–

Aluna sat cross-legged in the vast, endless expanse of white. The space around them was nothingness—an eternal ether untouched by time. It stretched infinitely in all directions, silent and still, like the pause between heartbeats. Aluna motioned for Adora to sit, her soft smile a quiet reassurance against the weight of the unknown. Adora hesitated, glancing around at the void, and then at the voice she thought she’d heard—Catra’s voice.

"he’s safe," Aluna said gently, as if reading her thoughts. "You’ll see him soon. But first, you must understand."

Adora nodded reluctantly and sat, her movements stiff with unease.

Aluna drew a deep breath, her eyes shimmering with a distant, ethereal glow. "Let me tell you a story, Adora. It’s one you’ve never heard, yet it has shaped everything. It begins in a world far different from the one you know… it has grown in a to afar more different but beautiful world"

She raised her hand, and the whiteness around them flickered, giving way to a vision of another place the past. The ground was scorched red, veins of bioluminescent light pulsing through towering mesas like the lifeblood of the Earth itself. The sky was a haunting copper, churned by eternal dust storms. The forests were alive with sentience, their obsidian-black bark spiraling upward, crowned by molten gold leaves. Iridescent mist drifted between the branches, carrying secrets to those who could hear them.

"This is Arizona, 3500 years after the Cataclysm," Aluna began, her voice soft yet commanding. "It was a land reborn from ruin, strange and beautiful. And within it, I came to be. Not born, but created. The Earth herself was my mother, cradling me in the roots of an ancient tree that grew where no tree should have survived. I was her child, her voice, her protector and yet she was my mother."

Adora’s breath caught as Aluna’s words painted vivid pictures in her mind. She could see Aluna as she described herself: skin like sunlit sand, hair flowing like rivers of onyx, and eyes that held the cosmos. She could feel the Earth’s pulse in the silence that followed.

"I had a companion," Aluna continued, her voice laced with both warmth and sorrow. "A wolf pup, so small and fragile, with fur as pale as starlight and eyes as golden as the sun. I found him on the first day the desert sky wept rain in centuries. He was tangled in a thorny thicket, crying out for someone—anyone—to save him. I named him Solas, meaning ‘light.’ He grew under my care, and in time, he became my shadow and my protector."

The image shifted, showing Aluna and Solas roaming the desert, their bond radiating a quiet, unspoken harmony. Solas, now fully grown, was a majestic beast, his silver coat gleaming under the sun, his eyes brimming with an ancient intelligence.

"But the world does not always welcome what it cannot understand," Aluna said, her tone darkening. "Humans feared me. They whispered of the witch who walked with the wolf, who commanded the birds and spoke to the winds. Fear turned to hatred, and hatred… to violence."

The vision shifted again. Torches blazed in the night as a mob descended upon Aluna’s sanctuary. Adora’s heart clenched as she saw them drag Aluna away, their faces twisted with anger and fear. Solas fought valiantly, his snarls echoing like thunder, but the humans’ chains were too strong and to many, relentless. They bound him, his cries of defiance turning to pained whimpers.

Aluna’s voice softened, thick with sorrow. "They tied me to a pyre in the village square. Solas watched, helpless, his golden eyes filled with anguish. I looked at him one last time and whispered, ‘You are the light. You must carry on, even when I am gone, I love....’"

The flames rose, consuming her. Adora flinched as the vision dissolved into smoke, the memory too painful to linger on.

"Something broke in Solas that night," Aluna said, her voice now a fragile thread. "His grief was so profound, so consuming, that it defied the laws of nature my mother had made. but, still... His body shifted, contorted, until he stood not as a wolf but as a man. A man who bore my face, my form but as a man, but with an aura of shadow and despair."

Adora’s eyes widened. "He became… you?"

Aluna nodded but shook her head slowly. "In a way. He was cursed by his sorrow, forever caught between what he was and what he had lost. As a man when he looked into the reflection he was able to see me, but he was not me, and my powers were of pure, his of despair,  he wandered the Earth, searching for me in the wind’s whispers, in the earth’s hum. But I was gone each and every day I was not there the anger with in him grew and the blessing my mother allowed to happen became a curse he started to hurt when he went back into wolf form, his bones breaking and full with the pain missing me."

The vision shifted once more, showing Solas, now a man, roaming the deserts and forests. Animals followed him, sensing the echo of Aluna within him. Humans spoke of him in hushed tones, calling him the Shadow Walker—a being who could summon storms with his rage and calm beasts with a glance.

"He became a legend," Aluna said. "A guardian of the land I loved. But his heart ached with every breath. He carried my final words with him, a fragile flame that refused to be extinguished: ‘You are the light.’"

Adora felt tears pricking her eyes as Aluna’s story unfolded. The vision shifted again, showing Solas encountering a dying pack of wolves in a desolate forest. His sorrow turned to resolve.

"He was done being alone," Aluna said. "He gave them a gift—the ability to shift, to walk as both beast and man. He called them the Pure-erutiy, the first shifters, born of the Earth’s sorrow and Solas’ light. But even they were not spared the cruelty of the world. Wars came, and the Pure were hunted, their numbers dwindling. The last survivor of their bloodline was Or’Ramas Catra’s mother."

Aluna’s voice faltered, and the white void returned. She looked at Adora with a mixture of hope and sadness. "Do you see now? The pain, the love, the choices that shaped us all?"

Adora nodded, her voice barely a whisper. "No, not really, I see how this began, yes, but I don't. I don't understand why or how all this relates to me."

Aluna reached out, her hand warm against Adora’s. "Then I must explain more then, Adora." Aluna smiled.  

Adora found herself captivated by Aluna's presence. Her smile was cool and calming, an anchor in a storm. Aluna tapped her chin thoughtfully, then ran her hand through her hair with a grace so effortless it felt otherworldly. When her piercing gaze met Adora's, it was almost too much—a quiet power emanated from her, terrifying in its restraint. It struck a chord deep within Adora, familiar and unsettling, as if she were looking at a shadow of herself—or perhaps a future version she hoped never to become.

Adora’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by the rising wave of panic around her. She felt it in the air, heard it in the frantic murmurs, and then Catra’s voice cut through the chaos. That raspy tone, usually so steady, was now laced with worry. The world around Adora began to shift—white light blurred and gave way to darkness. A path of shadow emerged, an inferno cutting through the void.

Aluna stood beside her, unfazed, even amused. She chuckled softly at Adora’s alarm. “Relax,” Aluna said, her voice smooth as silk. “He’s just coming back. He noticed I brought you here.”

Adora’s confusion deepened, her brow furrowing. “Brought me here? What do you mean … you took me’?”

Before Aluna could respond, a towering figure emerged from the shadows. His presence was commanding, his voice deep and rough as he growled, “Aluna, I told you—you can’t just take her.” He rolled his eyes, his exasperation evident as he added, “And I see you didn’t just take her. You pulled her entire spirit out of her body.”

Adora’s eyes widened in panic. “You what ?” she stammered.

Aluna waved a dismissive hand, her demeanor unbothered. “Oh, calm down, Solas. She’s fine. Her body’s healing faster now, and she’s tapping into her powers nicely. I just wanted her to understand what’s about to happen.” She turned to Adora with a gentle smile, her tone softening. “I want you to know what’s happening to you because, well… they have no idea what they’re doing…  down there.” Her laugh was light, almost musical.

Solas let out a deep, frustrated sigh. He sat down heavily, his massive frame radiating irritation. “Whatever,” he muttered. “Just hurry up. My time as a spirit is running out, and this… disruption isn’t helping.” he was laying flat on his back with his hands behind his head with his eyes closed. 

Aluna skipped over to him, crouching gracefully on the tips of her toes. With a mischievous grin, she leaned over his head and poked his cheek. “Always so grumpy,” she teased. “But trust me, this will benefit all of us. If she understands, she can explain it to Catra too. They need to know what’s about to happen now that their bond is fully ignited.” Her expression grew serious for a moment. “I’d rather not leave this to chance. Their connection is too important to risk misunderstanding or worse double personalities which I seen and strongly dislike.”

Adora watched the exchange, her anxiety mounting. “Excuse me,” she interjected, her voice sharp with urgency. “I need to know what’s happening. You’re talking about bonds and spirits and personalities like it’s normal, but none of this makes sense! What’s happening to me and Catra?”

Aluna turned to her, her expression soft but serious. “You and Catra are the reincarnations of me and Solas,” she began. “My mother decided it was time for us to return. Not in the same way, of course—this is something more natural, a rebirth of sorts. My soul is intertwined with his, and she gave us another chance at life.”

Adora’s breath hitched, a catch in her throat as she struggled to process the weight of Aluna’s words. Aluna’s voice was steady, yet carried an undercurrent of unshakable power. “Your bond is ancient and unyielding because it was forged from the very essence of creation. Solas’ soul was born a little early this time—a glitch, perhaps, but not unwelcome. Because She my mother,  allowed him to come first, giving that he had the undesired freedom to wander for so long, which allowed him to grow. And the same applies to Catra—he was born first, having already experienced the trials of grief, love, understanding pain, and finding oneself. These trials have shaped him, prepared him for the transition between him and Solas. It is in this space that Solas has learned to meld with Catra's life. But that’s beside the point.”

Aluna’s gaze grew distant, her voice gaining a sharper edge. “The world below is begging for leaders. Even if they don't understand, they fight for power, unaware of the cost. Our people—every supernatural being in existence—has been shattered by the hands of humans. And that same broken, raging hand continues to strike.”

Solas, interrupting with a soft voice, said, “Sorry about that,” before stepping back.

Aluna chuckled, a softness creeping into her expression before she continued, her words laced with fury and determination. “They need a real leader—someone who will not be stopped by power-hungry mortals or creatures of the night. Now, the two of you are destined to carry on our legacy. You will rule over all who walk in the shadows. The power you are about to awaken... the very blood flowing through your veins, is the foundation of every creature below. Not humans, of course, but the beings of the night—the shifters, those who balance their animal instincts with their humanity.”

Her voice was sharp, steady, and fierce, filled with pure unbridled power. “I died for and because of humans, fearful of me,and  because I was alone. The only fear I held was the fear of losing the one I loved most. And in the they killed him too. but by this time, all I could do was watch from above, I watched... unable to act, because I lacked the knowledge I have now. The one I am passing on to you. I see a world where a groups of people, with no ruler, has existed for so long they begin to believe they need not for one till they  need a leader. And the one they choose is always the wrong one  because they're only choices are the broken. It may sound cruel, but they have only one true leader, and it is us. The ones who created them. We are done watching them squander their powers, their gifts—whether they see them as a curse or not.”

Aluna paused, her gaze becoming distant. Then, a bittersweet smile tugged at her lips, carrying centuries of grief and longing. “This is your destiny, Adora. You and Catra will become what we once were—but more. Stronger. Wiser. Better … And I… I will return through you. Together, you will redefine what it means to lead, to love, and to protect all who will look to you.”

For a moment, Aluna’s eyes darkened, and Solas stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her in a gesture of solidarity. He placed his head gently on hers, his eyes meeting Adora's—a silent connection of their equal and immense power and understanding. “You and him will absorb everything that embodies us, but you will be better. Aluna smiles and solas holds her tighter “ You have knowledge. You have the life experience we never had. It doesn’t matter how we arrive; we are now your bulldozers in this new world  she poses for a quick moment with a giggle. I think that's what they're called. I'm not quite sure.”, unrelenting to build a new path. You will hold the knowledge of the past and the power of the future. The abilities you will receive will make you unstoppable. The only thing that can stop you and will is the fear within yourselves.”

Aluna's voice softened, tinged with a sense of melancholy. “You and Catra, your bodies are becoming one soul, one heartbeat in two places.  a double sided dagger of the same blade.  You are becoming immortal—truly unable to be killed.  you're only weakness being each other  But, sadly, you will still feel pain. It is... the price we pay.”

Solas sighed, a long breath escaping him. “Put her back now, my love,” he said, turning to Adora. His eyes gleamed with an otherworldly light, the intensity of their power radiating from him, but there was something darker, emptier, at the bottom of his gaze.

Adora, shaken by the weight of their words, hesitated before asking, “Will my eyes change? Will Catra’s eyes change?”

Solas shook his head. “The blue and gold within his eyes represent the beginning and the end  of what happened to me. They started bright as the sun but dimmed to the dark pools of blue. Those eyes—his eyes—are both my beginning and my end, and yours, are hers, they are her tears, which is Why they are so blue and in the center white is because there’s purity in them—something untainted by time, by sorrow just as she.”

Adora’s heart pounded in her chest, the enormity of Aluna’s words sinking in like stones in the pit of her stomach. Fear, confusion, and an overwhelming sense of responsibility clouded her mind. Yet, beneath it all, something stirred—a flicker of understanding, of connection. She was being called to something far greater than herself.

She looked at them, her voice small but firm. “Can I go home now? This is all... so much. I need time.”

Adora rubs her head taking a breath trying to take Hi'd of everything that they were explaining to her so much information. How is she gonna be able to relay this back and have it make sense so that she won't sound insane. Adora thought, making her eyes go wide. 

Solas chuckled softly, his gaze warm with understanding. “Sure, I understand. You have time a few days.  but I must warn you not to scare you, but to inform you, our spirits are close. They are finding there way…  they want to go home ... to be whole so.”

Aluna smiled gently, rushing to hug Adora. “I know this is daunting, but it was a pleasure to meet you. Truly. I will no longer exist in this plane, but I’ll be with you—through different forms. Try to understand, as best you can. Please dont Let my consciousness overwhelm yours, but don’t let me take over your life. I want a new life for you. A better one. For me, and for him.” Her voice grew steady, filled with quiet resolve. “We don’t care if we fade within you and Catra. We just want peace.” she smiled so softly as she turned back to him and then back to her “ To live and be with each other in a world of peace. But, like everything... Sometimes you must fight for peace. Live, Adora. You deserve to love and be free, to become everything you dream of and more. Don’t take this as if we are stealing your life. We are giving you the push, the backing, and the power to move forward into whatever you desire.”

And then, the world went black.

This time, instead of white.

— 

POV Adora

Darkness.

Adora could feel the air of the camp—the faint, crisp scent of trees mingling with the warm, subtle hum of human presence. Beneath her, the surface was cold and unyielding, grounding her in an unfamiliar reality. Distant creaks of wooden floors reverberated in her ears, interwoven with the rhythmic beeping of machines and the quiet scribbles of pen against paper—a symphony of chaos muffled by the void.

Then, like a blade slicing through her shadowed thoughts, a voice erupted. Familiar. Sharp. Unrelenting.

Catra.

His voice carried the weight of raw, unbridled fury, rising above the cacophony. Around him, other voices chimed in—her father, Carter, and two scientists, Frapta and Hordak, murmuring amidst the heated storm.

“What did you want me to do? Let her die?” Catra’s voice cracked, venom dripping from every word. His eyes burned, both glowing now—blue and gold, neither overpowering the other, as if his whole being was consumed by his rage.

“She was a popped water balloon—blood everywhere, pouring out like a damn faucet. River would’ve killed her, and I had no choice but to act! I did what had to be done. I gave her my blood, and that’s why she’s alive! Do you even understand? It took hours for her to start healing. Without me, she wouldn’t be here. So if you’re mad about that—if you’re ungrateful—then say it. Say it to my face. Tell me you’d rather have her dead!”

His words reverberated, cutting through the air with terrifying precision. He paced like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair, his tone a mixture of despair and defiance.

“You don’t understand anything, ” Catra hissed. “You’re playing scientist with your little machines, but you don’t know what’s really happening—not to her, not to me. You’re nothing but a blip in this. Insignificant. And what terrifies you the most is that deep down, you know it.”

Ranger’s face contorted, his authority momentarily stripped away by Catra’s unrelenting assault.

Frapta tried to interject, her voice steady, measured. “Actually, we’ve learned quite a bit. If you’d let me explai—”

“Don’t,” Ranger snapped, cutting her off. His voice boomed, his frustration spilling over. “I’m her father! You should’ve asked me before making decisions like this. You’re the reason we’re in this mess! I told you—if anything happened to her, I’d kill you myself. And now she’s unconscious, lying on a table in a lab ! You think you’re the hero here, but you’ve crossed a line. You made choices that weren’t yours to make!”

Catra laughed—a bitter, humorless sound that echoed with disdain.

“You? Her father?” he sneered. “You’re nothing but a sperm donor. You don’t know the first thing about what she needs. You talk about lines? The only line I see is the one between you and reality. You don’t matter. Not to me, and not to her. So go ahead—play with your machines, but don’t ever question why I saved her. I’ll always save her. Always. Even before I’d think about saving myself—or anyone else.”

Before the tension could escalate further, Carter intervened, his voice sharp with urgency: “Enough! Her heart rate is spiking—she’s waking up!”

Ranger shoved past Catra, who let out a low, dark chuckle, muttering under his breath. Carter approached Catra, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Breathe, son. I know you did what was best, but—”

“There’s no ‘but,’” Catra interrupted, shoving Carter’s hand away. “It’s simple. She lives, or she dies. And I chose to save her. If you don’t like it, too bad.” He turned toward the door, glancing back at Adora’s still form with a mixture of worry and anguish before storming out, the door slamming shut behind him.

Adora’s eyes fluttered open, and she gasped, sitting upright with deep, heaving breaths.

Ranger rushed to her side, pulling her into a tight embrace. “You scared the hell out of me,” he murmured, kissing her forehead. “That’s it. We’re leaving tonight. I’m done with this—done with him. I can’t watch you go through this anymore.”

Adora’s eyes widened in panic. “No! Dad, I’m fine. I need to stay—near him .” Her voice cracked, her desperation palpable. Her eyes began to glow, their intensity startling everyone in the room.

“Adora,” Ranger said firmly. “You’re my daughter. It’s my job to keep you safe. You’ve had too many close calls here. Pack your things—we’re leaving tonight.”

“No!” Adora shouted, her voice rising. “I’m not a child! I’m nearly eighteen—I can make my own decisions!”

Her eyes burned brighter, their glow almost blinding. Ranger hesitated, his words faltering as he saw the transformation before him. Carter stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Ranger’s shoulder.

“Give it a day,” Carter said quietly.

Ranger sighed, nodding reluctantly.

Adora, overwhelmed and trembling, bolted from the room—her movements a blur of supernatural speed.

Ranger stood frozen, rendered speechless.

Frapta broke the silence, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. “So... my hypothesis was correct.”

They all  turn to look at her. 

She just smiled. 

—

POV: Adora

I didn’t realize how fast I was running until I saw Catra ahead of me, his stride steady, calm—completely unaware of the freight train barreling his way. My feet barely skimmed the ground, adrenaline pumping so hard it blurred my senses. Before I could shout a warning or force my legs to stop, it happened.

My loose shoelace snagged on a rogue tree root, and I pitched forward. Everything became a chaotic blur: my shoulder slamming into his back, the collective groan of our bodies folding together, and then the sickening crack as we collided with a tree.

The first tree splintered on impact, shards of bark and wood exploding around us like jagged confetti. The second tree didn’t fare much better—our combined momentum hit it like a wrecking ball, snapping it clean at its base. Time seemed to slow as it groaned and tipped, crashing down in a thunderous cacophony that sent animals scattering. Some weren’t fast enough; the sickening crunch of small bodies beneath us was an audible reminder of the chaos we’d unleashed.

Gravity had no mercy. We bounced along the ground, each impact jarring bones and ripping through muscles. The dirt beneath us gave way with every hit, leaving deep scars in the earth until, finally, we landed in an almost deafening silence, the world around us eerily still.

When the dust cleared, the carnage came into focus. Blood—ours, maybe theirs—streaked across the ground. Lifeless animals lay twisted and broken around us, their fur matted with crimson. My stomach churned at the sight, but I barely had time to process it. Pain radiated through every inch of my body, sharp and relentless, grounding me in the moment.

I was sprawled across Catra, my face humiliatingly pressed against his ass. The scent of dirt, blood, and sweat filled my nostrils, a visceral cocktail that made me gag. “Gods,” I muttered, struggling to push myself off him. The movement sent a searing pain through my arm, and I cried out, clutching it instinctively. The bone at my elbow jutted out at an unnatural angle, white against red, and I had to clamp my teeth together to stop from screaming again.

Catra groaned beneath me, his voice muffled by the dirt. “Move... your fat ass,” he rasped, and I almost laughed despite the agony.

When I rolled off him, my eyes landed on his leg. My breath hitched. The bone protrude through the skin, jagged and raw, and his usually cocky smirk was replaced with a grimace so tight it made my chest ache.

We managed to shift onto our backs, the effort stealing what little strength we had left. Our bodies felt like lead, sinking into the soft crater we’d carved into the earth. The sky above was impossibly blue, a serene backdrop to the devastation we’d left in our wake.

Catra broke the silence first, his voice weak but laced with that familiar dry humor. “Well... that fucking hurt.”

A wheezing laugh bubbled up from my chest, the sound almost foreign amidst the carnage. “You don’t say,” I replied, my voice trembling with pain and disbelief.

He chuckled again, wincing as the movement jarred his broken leg. “That was one hell of an entrance, Princess,” he said, the nickname dripping with mockery even through his labored breaths.

I rolled my eyes, but the grin tugging at my lips was impossible to suppress. “Looks like my powers finally kicked in,” I said, the words feeling both triumphant and absurd.

We laughed together then—painful, broken laughter that echoed through the quiet forest. It wasn’t the kind of laugh that came from pure joy; it was a release of sorts, a desperate attempt to find humor in the insanity of our situation and our life.

For a brief moment, lying there amidst the blood and rubble, nothing else mattered. Not the sharp, relentless ache coursing through my body, not the metallic tang of blood that clung to the air, or the bruises painting my skin. We were alive. Bruised, battered, and bleeding—but alive. And somehow, despite everything, we were still us.

Our laughter subsided slowly, fading into the stillness of the forest. The breeze moved gently through the trees, carrying with it the scent of crushed grass and damp earth. It rustled the leaves above us, casting shifting patterns of light and shadow across Catra’s face. I turned my head to look at him, marveling at the way the sunlight danced along the sharp edges of his jaw, the curve of his full lips, and the freckles scattered like constellations across his skin. His lashes fluttered as he blinked up at the sky, and his blue eyes held a depth that made my chest tighten.

I smiled faintly and broke the silence. “I finally talked with the wind,” I said softly.

Catra turned his head toward me, his expression unreadable at first, but I could see the flicker of recognition in his eyes. His mouth opened as if to respond, but no words came out. He shut it again, his gaze searching mine. The silence lingered, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that let the world breathe around us—the rustle of leaves, the whisper of the wind threading through our hair, cooling the sweat on our skin.

“There’s more than wind,” he said finally, his voice low but steady.

I knew exactly what he meant. A smile tugged at the corners of my lips as I recalled the moment—the emergence of Solas in the Nether, his shadowy presence intertwined with Catra’s, and Aluna’s ethereal whispers guiding me. “Mine is the wind,” I said, my voice almost a whisper. “Yours is a shadow. Her name is Aluna, and his name is Solas.”

His brows furrowed as he stared at me, the weight of my words settling over him. “How do you know?” he asked, his tone more curious than skeptical.

I turned my gaze to the sky, watching the clouds drift lazily by. “Because I talked to them when I was... not passed out, but something like it. Aluna pulled me from my body to explain everything. She said my powers took so long to awaken that it created some kind of delay—like I wasn’t fully connected. She’s been whispering to me for a while, but I couldn’t hear her clearly until now. Solas... he’s been with you all along, hasn’t he?”

Catra looked away, his expression unreadable once again as he stared at the sky. “I guess so,” he said after a long pause. “I didn’t know his name, though. I thought he was just... a nightmare. He showed up after my mother died. I wouldn’t call it a close connection.”

The rawness in his voice made my chest ache. I gasped softly, more from surprise than anything else. “You believe me? Just like that?”

He let out a dry chuckle, his chest rising and falling with the effort. “Do you have a reason for me not to believe you? I’ve seen him—his shadow, anyway. It’s not like I can pretend this is normal.”

His humor was a thin veil over the pain, but it was still there, grounding us in a way only Catra could. He pushed himself up slowly, his body almost completely healed. The sight of him resetting his broken leg made my stomach churn. His claws dug into his thigh, and his fangs pierced his bottom lip as he gritted through the pain, a guttural groan escaping his throat. But he didn’t stop, didn’t falter.

I wasn’t nearly as composed. When I sat up to fix my arm, the pain shot through me like fire, and I cried out, tears stinging my eyes. My vision blurred as I tried to steady my breathing, but the agony was relentless.

Catra glanced at me, his expression softening despite the blood still smeared across his face. “You’ve got to push through it, Princess,” he said, his voice quieter now but still laced with that familiar teasing edge. “You’re stronger than this.”

I swallowed hard, my jaw tightening as I braced myself. The wind stirred again, carrying Aluna’s whispers through my mind. You are stronger than the pain, Adora. Trust yourself.

Taking a deep breath, I gritted my teeth and realigned my arm. The scream that tore from my throat was raw and guttural, but the relief that followed was almost euphoric. I collapsed back into the dirt, my chest heaving.

Catra chuckled beside me, his laughter light despite everything we’d been through. “See? Told you.”

I rolled my eyes, a weak smile tugging at my lips. “Shut up, Catra.”

And for a moment, the weight of our situation faded into the background. We were alive. Still us. And somehow, that was enough. 

—

We laughed a bit more at each other, catra was on his knees, stretching his body as it healed.

The forest was quiet, but it buzzed with an energy I couldn’t name. As the healing energy pulsed through Catra's body, he dropped to his knees with a grunt. The forest around us was quiet, but I could feel the buzzing energy in my bones. Sunlight filtered through the leaves above, creating a golden glow on Catra's skin, making him look almost otherworldly, a masterpiece.

With his sharp jawline and faint freckles dusting his cheeks, it was like he had been painted by nature itself. And those piercing blue and gold eyes seemed even more mesmerizing here, as if they were reflecting the magic of the forest.

Catra turned his head, his lips curving into a slight smile that hinted at something mischievous. I could sense that he wanted to say something, but no words came out.

Instead, there was an unspoken tension between us, thickening the air around us. And as our gazes locked, I couldn't help but focus on his slightly rough and cracked lips, stained with a hint of blood from where his fangs had grazed them. They looked surprisingly soft, and my chest tightened with an undeniable longing. It was as if every inch of my body was responding to him in a way I couldn't explain or control.

My body was betraying me. Despite everything I knew and was told, despite my better judgment, knowing I should wait and explain to him what aluna told me, I couldn't resist the pull towards him. It wasn't logical or explainable, but it was undeniable. A primal force that left me feeling helpless and out of control.  I couldn't help but think of how aluna and solas looked at each other, how I wanted what they had or have.

Before I could think twice, I was leaning in, our bodies drawing closer until the space between us was almost suffocating. The familiar scent of him filled my senses and I couldn't help but inhale deeply, intoxicated by his earthy and metallic aroma. Catras eyes glow just a bit, “ are yo-” 

Without hesitation, I pressed my lips to his, the world around us fading into nothingness. Every touch from his mouth on mine sent shockwaves through me, and for a moment, I froze with the weight of what we were doing crashing down on me. But then it disappeared just as quickly as it came, replaced by an insatiable hunger fueled by his response.

He didn't just kiss me back - he devoured me. His movements were fierce and urgent, leaving me breathless and wanting more. His hands roamed over my face and body, the roughness of his finger tips, pulling my shirt through the rips, his fingers brushing my skin igniting shocks of pure electricity, they way his finger grazed along my neck, my jaw as if he couldn't bear any distance between us.

It wasn't gentle or sweet - it was raw and wild. Our teeth clashed together and his tongue explored every inch of my mouth with a demanding fervor that ignited every nerve in my body. Despite the pain from my injuries though healed , it only seemed to intensify the passion between us.

As his hand tangled in my hair and he deepened the kiss further, I couldn't hold back a soft moan that escaped my lips. When he finally pulled away, it wasn't because he wanted to - we both lingered in the aftermath of our heated exchange. Till finally.

"Adora," his voice was rough and laced with desire as he spoke my name. And when I opened my eyes to meet his intense gaze, I knew without a doubt that this was something we, i had been building towards for far too long.

My voice caught in my throat, strangled by the weight of unspoken emotions. How could I even begin to express what I was feeling?..  dreaming of his ecstasy of his presence of his touch no words could explain.  oh, at least in this moment.

He smiled then, a devilish glint in his eyes as his thumb traced a slow path down my cheek, igniting a fire within me. “ im.. Adora …” he paused. His words were like velvet on my skin, heavy with unspoken promise. But I couldn't stay silent any longer. I needed to tell him how long I'd been dreaming of this moment, of him. With every fiber of my being, I leaned in closer, barely brushing my lips against his as I confessed breathlessly, "I've been holding back for so long...  I couldn't  hold back any longer…"

As his lips crashed against mine, it felt like a wildfire spreading through my body. Every inch of me burned with desire as he kissed me, slower and deeper than before. I could feel him savoring every second, memorizing the way I tasted, we fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. His  quiet growls as his lipid grazed mine the way his tongue swirled around mine and his fang sangging  against my lip as he pulled back. 

His hand moved down to my waist, fingers pressing into my skin with a delicious pressure that reminded me of his hidden strength. The forest around us seemed to come alive in response, the rustling leaves and distant chirps of birds creating a symphony to accompany our intense moment.

But at that moment, nothing else existed except for me. It was like an all-consuming force had enveloped me, binding  tugging us together until I was lost in his embrace with no escape in sight. 

I opened my eyes—when had I even closed them?—and found him staring at me. His face was devastatingly close, his blue-and-gold eyes alight with something I couldn’t name but could feel. It wasn’t just longing. It was deeper, sharper, almost reverent, like I was something fragile and sacred all at once.

“I—” I started, but my voice caught, stuck somewhere between my chest and the lump rising in my throat.

He smiled, faint and teasing, the kind of smile that always left me feeling both flustered and furious. His thumb brushed against my cheek, the faint callouses on his skin dragging softly over mine. My heart stuttered, and I cursed its betrayal.

“You don’t have anything to say,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, heavy with meaning that made my knees weak  and a little infuriated as the amusement played along each word.

I leaned in again before I could stop myself, my lips barely grazing his as I whispered, “I couldn’t help it.”

He chuckled, the sound deep and warm, sending a jolt through me. “You really have a way with words, don’t you?”

The blush that rose to my cheeks was instant and scalding. I felt it climb all the way to the tips of my ears as reality came crashing down around me. Oh gods, what was I doing ?

I broke free from his hold standing immediately, my body screaming in protest even as I stumbled backward. “Well, looks like I’m fully healed,” I said, a little too brightly, brushing nonexistent dust off my clothes like I wasn’t completely unraveling inside.

I turned, desperate for a distraction, and took in the chaos around us. The forest was a disaster. Trees were snapped in half, the earth was torn up in jagged streaks, and there was a faint, metallic tang of blood in the air.

“Ummm… shit,” I said, letting out a nervous laugh. “We, uh, we really messed this up. I mean—I messed this up. Like, a lot.” I exhaled sharply, pressing my hands to my hips as if that might ground me.

Catra just watched me, his gaze unrelenting and unreadable till he fully stood up no longer  crouching on the ground, just looking at me Face unreadable. That made it worse.

“Anyway,” I continued, the words tumbling out faster than I could stop them, “I wanted to tell you about, well, everything that happened when I passed out, but—uh—I kinda wanna take a shower first because, um, I’m pretty sure I have, like, fifty different kinds of animal blood on me right now. And it’s, uh, making me really sad that I, uh, accidentally killed them.”

He tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable.

I let out a sudden burst of nervous laughter, the kind that came from deep in my chest and had absolutely no place in this moment. “So, yeah,” I said, my voice higher than I wanted it to be, “gonna go shower now. Bye!”

I turned and started walking, my steps uneven and jittery as I followed the trail of wreckage we’d left behind.

I could hear Catra following me, his footsteps soft but deliberate, and the weight of his presence was impossible to ignore. My heart raced, each beat loud and erratic in my ears.

Stop thinking about him. Stop thinking about his lips. Stop thinking about his stupid, perfect face.

My fingers brushed my own lips, and I felt the heat rise to my cheeks again. I barely registered the rock until my foot caught on it, sending me stumbling forward.

“Whoa there.”

Catra’s arm shot out, catching me before I could hit the ground. His grip was firm, steady, and the smirk that spread across his face was positively infuriating.

“Focus,” he said, his voice low and amused as he crouched slightly, his face close enough that I could see the faint laugh lines near his eyes.

“I—uh—yeah,” I stammered, my brain short-circuiting as his smirk deepened.

“Something on your mind?” he teased, his voice dripping with playful mockery.

I glared at him, but it was half-hearted at best, my traitorous gaze snagging on the way his thick lashes framed his eyes his fucking  Beautiful blue and golden-amber eyes, the faint shadow of stubble along his jaw, the way his dark hair fell just so, making him look effortlessly perfect.

Before I could respond, his grip on my arm tightened, and with a quick, fluid motion, he lifted me off the ground.

“Hey!” I yelped as he cradled me against his chest like I weighed nothing.

“Careful, Adora,” he said, his voice lilting with amusement. “I might start to think you like me or something.”

I rolled my eyes, refusing to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. “Put me down, Catra. I can walk just fine.”

He threw his head back, laughing loudly, the sound rumbling through his chest and into mine. I hated how much I liked it.

“Sure, sure,” he said, his tone dripping with mock agreement. “Because last time you walked, you slammed into me like a runaway cart.”

“I lost control!” I snapped, crossing my arms and glaring up at him. “I didn’t even know I was running that fast!”

“Sure,” he said again, the word drawn out and dripping with sarcasm.

I huffed, turning my head away from him, but I didn’t try to wriggle out of his arms. He was annoyingly warm, now I know what my sister said about the vamp chill. It was like I was warm but not as warm as everyone else I thought,  and part of me didn’t want to let go of his warmth wrap around me and I never felt safe.

As he carried me through the wrecked forest, I couldn’t help but steal glances at him, my heart pounding with every step. His smirk hadn’t faded, and the way his eyes softened whenever they met mine made me wonder if maybe, just maybe, he felt the same restless pull I did.

Chapter Text

The birds burst out of the trees, squirrels scatter, and snakes slither away in a desperate rush. The roots of the trees tear violently from the ground.

"Uhhh… Mmm…"

A low growl ripples through the air. Claws slowly emerge, pushing out from beneath the skin of fingertips, tearing through fabric with a menacing rip. Her eyelashes flutter, and her bright blue eyes begin to glow. An erotic expression spreads across her face, a crimson strand of blood trailing down her lip. She bites down harder, savoring the sensation, until a guttural moan escapes her throat.

Her fangs push through her gums, both top and bottom, replacing her human canines. “Fuck, bite harder,” she gasps, the words dripping with desperation and lust.

A deep growl answers her, followed by a dark, low chuckle. She feels it resonate against her neck, the vibrations making her skin prickle. His lips trail down, brushing against her pulse. His raspy tongue licks the length of her neck before his teeth sink into her skin with deliberate pressure. Blood stains his teeth as he pulls back briefly, his voice rough and teasing. “Hmmm, are you forgetting something, Adora? I’m not a vampire,” he murmurs before his tongue returns to the wound, licking at the raw skin.

He sucks hard, his lips creating a bruising vacuum. The pain and pleasure intertwine, blood vessels bursting under his ministrations, forming a black-and-blue stain that has her eyes rolling back. Just as she thinks he’ll stop, he pulls away suddenly, spitting onto her neck.

Her breath catches, a sharp gasp escaping her lips as he smirks, licking the saliva from the forming bruise. His mouth trails upward, his lips grazing along the edges of her jawline. “So,” he says between slow, deliberate kisses, his voice dripping with amusement.

She feels his rough lips and the subtle scrape of peeling skin brushing against hers. The sharp edge of his teeth grazes her flesh, sending a delicious shiver down her spine.

“I’m the only one who can hurt you, correct?” he whispers against her skin, each word punctuated with a kiss.

“Mmm…” A moan builds in her throat.

He chuckles darkly, lips never ceasing their assault. “Adora, answer me,” he growls, though his lips continue to claim every inch of her skin.

“Mmm…” Her voice is lost to the sensation, her body trembling in response.

Catra bites down harder, growling as the blood flows into his mouth like water. The sound of his growl sends shivers down Adora’s spine. When his lips release her skin, he kisses the wound, then drags his tongue slowly along the ridges of the bite. The broken skin tugs as it fights to heal.

He presses his tongue against one of the puncture holes, the tip pushing in first. He flicks it around inside, savoring the way Adora gasps in a mixture of pain and pleasure. Slowly, he pushes his tongue in deeper, the delicate skin of the bite stretching and tearing further.

Adora’s grip on his shirt tightens as she hisses from the sharp pain, her legs rubbing together unconsciously. Her knees knock against each other as her body responds, even as the sensation makes her tremble.

Catra smirks, leaning into her. With a sudden thrust, he pushes his tongue harder against the torn flesh, the skin splitting further under the pressure. The creaking of the tree intensifies as its roots strain against the ground, reacting to the surge of energy between them.

He removes his hand from her body only to pin her against the tree, the bark pressing into her back. His tongue delves deeper into the wound, each flick making the torn skin flutter slightly. Blood begins to spill, rolling down Adora’s neck and soaking into her shirt.

Catra doesn’t stop his ministrations, his tongue sliding in and out of her flesh, his lips, tongue, and chin now stained with her blood.

“Uhhh, fuck…” Adora tries to speak, but the words catch in her throat as he continues, relentless.

My fingers tremble as they grip his shirt, pulling until the fabric tears apart, the seams bursting under the pressure.

“Uhhh… stop, stop, stop…” I whisper, my voice barely audible as he continues thrusting his tongue into the wound. The sensation is unbearable, electric, confusing—I don’t understand what’s happening to my body. Everything feels wavy, like I’m floating but anchored in flames. My nerves are sparking like firecrackers, each pop shooting heat through me. I can barely catch my breath, each gasp ragged and desperate.

Heat pools between my legs, wetness soaking through my panties, and for a fleeting moment, I panic—am I losing control? My knees shake, my legs feel weak, and I can hardly stand.

Catra presses his body fully against mine, his weight overwhelming, grounding me. His thigh slides between my legs, inserting itself firmly, and he growls low in his throat. The sound vibrates through us, making my entire body tremble.

“Uhhh…” I can’t explain what’s happening to me. My plea is little more than a whisper as I struggle to form words through gasps of air. He allows me no reprieve, lowering me until I’m straddling his knee. Somehow, it’s positioned perfectly, the pressure landing directly against the clit.

He shifts his knee side to side slowly, deliberately, and the friction ignites something deep inside me. The sensation is unbearable—a white-hot current firing through my veins, leaving me lightheaded. My body sags against him as he continues, his tongue pushing deeper into the wound on my neck.

Blood flows freely, warm and thick, pouring like water every time he pulls his tongue back. And then he pushes it in again, the skin tearing further with each flick of his tongue inside me. His hot breath from his nose tickles the fine hairs on my neck, a maddening contrast to the searing pain and pleasure radiating through me.

And then… white.

“AHHHHHH!”

Everything is wet. Wet skin. Wet fabric. Wet heat pooling between my legs, dripping, spreading.

He pulls his tongue out, and I feel the blood flowing from the wound. I’m trying to figure out what just happened, but my mind is a haze. Then he leans in close, his breath hot against my ear as he whispers, “Heal.”

I’m gasping, struggling to fill my lungs with the air I somehow lost. My body sags against the tree, completely spent. Everything around me is blurry, my vision swimming as I try to make sense of the sensations wracking my body.

As I shift slightly, the feeling hits me—a wet, sticky sensation clinging to me. My jeans are soaked, and the dampness feels utterly obscene. It looks like I’ve wet myself.

Catra’s knee is wet too, glistening under the faint light. I glance up, my head resting back against the rough bark, only to meet his gaze. He’s fully in view now, his lips stained red with my blood and stretched into the most devilish smirk I’ve ever seen.

“What…” I murmur, my voice hoarse and trembling.

He throws his head back and laughs—a deep, rumbling sound that makes my cheeks burn even hotter.

“I didn’t think…” he starts, shaking his head as the laughter continues, “I didn’t think you’d be a squirter.”

His words hit me like a slap, and my confusion quickly gives way to embarrassment. It all comes crashing down in my mind, the realization of what just happened.

My face flushes completely red as I stammer, “I… I’m… not—”

He laughs even harder, his head tilting back further as the sound rolls out of him without restraint. I can’t help it—I blush harder, the heat creeping all the way to my ears.

"Fuck," I think to myself, I really just had my first real orgasm, and we didn’t even have sex. What the fuck is happening? Is this because I have access to all my senses now? Or is this normal? Or… is Catra just way more experienced than me?

We’re walking under the moonlight again—our new routine for the past three nights. It’s the only time we can steal away from my father, who won’t leave us alone during the day. I explained things to him the best I could, omitting details because, well… parents aren’t exactly built for the whole truth.

Catra, on the other hand, is loving the sneaking around. For someone older than me, he’s like a giant child, reveling in the thrill.

"Hey," his voice cuts through the quiet night.

I glance at him, and damn it—why does he have to look so good? Even now, with dried blood staining his lips, his hair disheveled from our earlier scuffle, and that ever-present smugness carved into his sharp features, he’s annoyingly, distractingly sexy.

"What are you thinking?" he asks, his tone teasing, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smirk.

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore how the light from the moon makes his honey-amber and icy-blue eyes seem to glow.

"Nothing," I huff, though my tone betrays me. "I’m just pissed that I look like I pissed myself because of you."

His laugh is deep and unapologetic, the sound vibrating through me like a plucked string.

"You came," he says, not even bothering to hide his amusement. "Why can’t you just admit that I made you lose control—that I made you come from my tongue fucking your neck?"

The heat rising to my face is unbearable. "You did no such thing," I snap back, folding my arms.

His grin only widens, his expression one of pure satisfaction. Then, without warning, he rushes me.

I barely have time to gasp before my back hits the ground with a force that knocks the air from my lungs. The earth beneath me feels cold, rough, alive, but none of that matters when his body presses into mine, his weight pinning me effortlessly.

His growl is low, guttural, primal—it sends a shiver coursing down my spine.

"Fuck," I think, "this is sexy."

His eyes, a breathtaking mix of molten gold and piercing blue, burn into me, their glow casting faint shadows across my face. He’s so close now, his lips brushing against mine, his breath warm and intoxicating. I can feel every inhale, every exhale, and before I realize it, I’m matching his rhythm, our breathing syncing as though we’re one.

The tension crackles between us like a live wire. Then, his tongue drags slowly across my lips, tasting, teasing, and I shudder beneath him.

"I can’t wait until you give in to me completely," he murmurs, his voice low and venomous, each word deliberate and sharp. "You won’t be able to breathe without getting wet. I want every move you make to remind you of what I’ve done to you—of how I will claim you, body and soul, until there’s nothing left but me."

The weight of his words crashes over me, heavy and unrelenting. His tone is so serious, so certain, that I feel it settle into my bones like an undeniable truth.

I try to turn my head, overwhelmed, but he grips my jaw firmly, forcing me to meet his gaze.

"Keep pretending to be deaf and blind," he says, his lips curling into a smirk. "But I’ll teach you how to hear… and how to see."

Before I can respond, he kisses me—deep, wet, consuming. My resistance crumbles far too quickly, and I hate how eagerly my lips part for him, how desperately my body leans into his touch.

When he finally pulls away, his teeth catch my bottom lip, biting down just enough to draw blood.

"Ahhh," I moan involuntarily, my voice foreign to my own ears.

He stands, towering over me, his lips stained red from my blood, his eyes glinting with something feral.

I sit up slowly, touching my lip, feeling the slick warmth of blood. My head spins as I heal, the wound stitching itself back together under my fingers.

Catra watches me, his gaze hungry, predatory. His eyes are like twin whirlpools—golden flecks leading me into the endless blue beneath, his freckles like tiny constellations mapping out a path I can’t resist.

I shake my head, trying to clear it, and murmur, "Please… just lead the way. I want a shower."

He steps closer, his grin sharp and teasing. "Together?"

My face flushes an even deeper red. "N-no!" I stammer, flustered beyond belief. "Just take me back already."

His laughter is rich and wicked as he turns, leading the way with that infuriatingly confident stride of his.

My senses are still in overdrive, every nerve ending alive, every thought tangled with the feel of him, the taste of him, the sound of his voice.

"I might have to take my father up on that vamp training," I mutter under my breath, following him through the night, my body still humming from the aftermath.

"You think you're so smooth, what did you get that off a movie, or something?" I say, finally steadying myself. My words drip with defiance, though a flicker of unease lingers as his gaze locks onto mine—sharp, piercing, and brimming with something that feels too much like a challenge. His devilish grin curls like smoke, lazy but lethal. I almost regret speaking when his voice cuts through the silence.

"I’ll start right now, Adora," he murmurs, his tone dangerously low.

I open my mouth to respond, but he doesn’t let me. His words spill out, thick with venom and something darker, something impossible to ignore. “Let me make one thing clear. I don’t know who the hell you’ve been messing around with before me—if anyone—or what little fantasies you’ve conjured up from books or... whatever you think you know." He takes a slow, deliberate step forward, his presence swallowing the space between us. "But I’m not them. I’m not some idea you’ve built in your head. I’m real."

His voice deepens, laced with a promise I’m not sure I want to understand. “I’ll carve my name into your skin with my claws and fangs. Over and over, until it doesn’t heal anymore, until it becomes a part of you. Permanent. I’ll fill your lungs with my breath, so every time you inhale, it’s me—only me—that lets you live. You’ll never be satisfied without my touch, Adora, and it’ll kill you because you’ll know it’s my choice to make.”

I can feel his words sinking into me, scorching every nerve, and it takes all my strength not to crumble beneath their weight. His laugh rumbles low and guttural, more felt than heard. He’s standing so close now that the heat of his body seeps into mine, and his eyes—one amber, one blue—burn like twin flames of different fires. One smolders with rage, the other with raw, unfiltered desire.

He leans in, his breath fanning over my cheek, intoxicatingly warm. “I know you’re not ready to give me everything yet,” he says, softer now but no less intense. “I’m not here to push you... much.” He grins again, and it’s devilish, feral, making my stomach twist in a way that’s equal parts terror and thrill. “But I want you to understand something, princess.”

He pauses, closing his eyes briefly, as though savoring the moment. When they open again, there’s no mercy in them. “I know. Every. Damn. Time. You want me to touch you. I can smell it on you, Adora.” His grin stretches wider, and the wind carries his words, amplifying their power. “You think you can hide it, but I can sense it the second it happens. Just like now.”

His voice drops to a husky whisper, dragging against my skin like a physical touch. “It’s sweet. Like maple syrup, slow-cooked with cinnamon, blending together perfectly. That’s you, Adora. That’s what you smell like when you want me.”

The wind shifts, brushing past us, and for a moment, it feels like even nature itself has aligned to emphasize his words. He inhales deeply, exaggerating the motion, and his eyelids flutter closed as if the scent alone is enough to undo him. My body betrays me, heat pooling low and unrelenting, and I bite my lip to keep from making a sound.

His eyes snap open, and he smirks knowingly. “You’re delicious, princess. And you don’t even realize it.”

—---

 3 DAYS AGO 

Catra put Adora down on the ground, his touch lingering just enough to draw her attention before he stepped back. Carter and Ranger approached them, their strides starkly different. Ranger stormed forward with angry, purposeful steps, while Carter’s slow, deliberate gait was calm, almost mocking the tension.

“Adora, you can’t just run off like that,” Ranger’s voice thundered, his piercing glare shifting to Catra. “And you—” he pointed at Catra, “you could’ve told me her power came in.”

Catra rolled his eyes, his response nothing more than a low, guttural growl, a challenge that hung heavy in the air.

Ranger pressed on, voice taut with frustration. “We’re staying one more day, Adora, then we’re going home. And I’m not leaving you alone with him anymore. Every time you’re with him, you come back bruised, battered—and last time, almost dead because of his crazy little girlfriend.”

Catra muttered under his breath, “Not my girlfriend.”

Adora huffed, crossing her arms. “River is not his girlfriend, Dad. She’s just—”

Ranger cut her off sharply. “I don’t care, Adora! She almost killed you! Do you understand me? If you would’ve—” He faltered, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. “If you would’ve died, what would I have told your mother? Your sister? Your brother?” He ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head as he exhaled heavily. “I’ve been alive a lot longer than you, and you’ve had more near-death experiences in a week than I have in a century.”

“It’s not that serious,” Adora argued, her tone defiant. “You’ve trained before; you know how it is.”

“No, Adora,” Ranger snapped. “I’m a fucking vampire! I’ve never been trained by wolves to be what I am. What you are!” His voice softened momentarily as he steadied himself, hands clenched into fists at his sides. “We’re vampires, Adora. Not wolves. Not witches. Not anything else. Our kind barely tolerates sitting next to each other, let alone someone training us!”

Adora yanked herself free of his grasp. “But I’m not like you! I’m not like Amra or Adam or any other vampire. I’m a half-breed, remember? Mom’s human. I don’t see many half-human, half-vampires, yet here I am. Mara exists. Adam exists. So your point doesn’t stand.”

Ranger grabbed her shirt, his voice rising, his eyes flaring crimson. “You will listen to me! I know you’re growing up—”

“I’m grown, Dad! I’m 18!”

“Not for another month!” he shot back, his voice almost shaking.

Adora shook her head, defiant. “It doesn’t matter. In the car, you told me you’d be open. You said you’d accept that I’m not a kid anymore, that I can make my own decisions. So why now are you—”

“Because you almost died , Adora!” Ranger’s voice echoed, raw and furious. “Do you even understand what that means? Dead! Not hurt. Not scraped. Not bruised. Dead. Gone. No coming back!” His voice cracked, his rage melting into something more vulnerable, more afraid. “You’re my child. I fought for you. For your siblings. For your mother. Do you know how hard I had to fight just to be with her? To have the life we have now?”

He looked at her, his eyes brimming with emotions he rarely let surface. “My people didn’t approve of me marrying a human. Let alone having children with one. And raising them as humans? That’s a battle we’ve fought tooth and nail for, Adora. Blood, sweat, tears—losses you can’t even imagine. My own clan doesn’t even speak to me anymore because of the choices I’ve made. And you expect me to just be okay with a wolf—” he pointed at Catra, venom in his voice, “—beating the hell out of you, dragging you into danger, and almost killing you?”

He took a step closer, his voice dropping to a pained whisper. “And let’s not forget why we’re even here—because he gave you his mutated blood. Blood that changed everything about you, Adora. Everything.”

Silence hung heavy between them, thick with unspoken words. Ranger exhaled deeply, shaking his head as if trying to release the weight of his worries. “I hope one day you’ll have a child of your own, so you’ll understand. But until then, you’re not walking off with him anymore. Not as your father, not as your leader—I can’t allow it.”

He stepped back, his voice steady but firm. “We leave in a day. Get your stuff packed.”

Adora stood her ground, her voice trembling with frustration. “And what if I don’t listen?”

Ranger’s eyes glowed blood-red, and Adora’s resolve wavered. “Go shower off whatever the hell happened and pack. Now.”

Adora nodded, retreating to the shared camp without another word.

Catra smirked, turning to follow her, but Ranger’s voice stopped him cold. “She knows where the camp is. Go find your little bitch in heat—the one who nearly killed her—and tell her to leave. If I see her, I’ll rip her fucking head off.”

Catra paused, slowly turning to face Ranger. He exaggeratedly looked around the camp, feigning confusion before pointing at himself. “Who, me? You can’t possibly be talking to me like that.” His grin widened, a predator toying with its prey.

“I’m serious, Catra,” Ranger growled, stepping closer.

Catra chuckled darkly. “Oh, I believe you. But let me tell you something, old man—” He leaned in, his voice dropping to a menacing whisper. “You don’t scare me. You don’t scare anyone but your own shadow. My ‘bitch in heat’ will walk around as she pleases, just like your daughter. And you won’t do a damn thing about it.”

Ranger lunged forward, his anger boiling over, but Carter grabbed him by the neck, holding him back.

“Relax, Ranger,” Carter said calmly. “Breathe. They’re teenagers, man. Let it go. You’re already on shaky ground with your kids. Take it easy.”

Ranger shoved Carter off with a snarl. Carter sighed. “Come on. You need a drink.”

As Carter led him away, Catra sauntered off, laughing under his breath. “Bitch ass.”

– 

IN THE CABIN  

Adora stormed into her room, slamming the door behind her. She was fuming, her frustration bubbling over like an untamed fire. Still, the sight of her father’s glowing eyes lingered in her mind, freezing her resolve in a way only his stern gaze could. With an exaggerated huff, she threw herself onto the bed, face buried into the mattress, and let out a muffled scream of frustration.

Her moment of solitude was short-lived, interrupted by the sound of soft, mocking laughter. She whipped her head up, her messy hair falling into her face. Standing at the door’s archway was Catra, casually leaning against it, arms crossed, and that familiar smirk plastered across his face.

He let out a low whistle, tilting his head as he observed her. “Your dad is pissed.”

Adora rolled her eyes, her annoyance growing. “It’s not funny, Catra,” she snapped, sitting up on the bed. “We were finally making some progress...” Her voice faltered, and she added softly, almost to herself, “...with my powers and stuff.”

Catra’s smirk softened, his sharp demeanor replaced by something gentler. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice quieter. “And stuff.”

Adora’s gaze met his, and for a moment, her annoyance seemed to waver. She took a deep breath, brushing her hand through her hair nervously. “I... I just wanted to say I’m sorry for—”

Before she could finish, Catra moved in a flash, crossing the room in a blur and silencing her with a kiss.

The kiss was rushed, an impulsive force of emotion that neither of them had anticipated. Adora gasped in shock but didn’t resist as Catra’s hands slid around her waist, pulling her closer. His weight pressed her back against the bed as he braced himself on his knees, leaning over her. A low growl, almost like a purr, rumbled deep in his chest as he buried himself in the moment.

The initial shock melted away, replaced by raw, unspoken desire. Adora’s hands instinctively reached up, wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer as if anchoring herself to him. Their lips moved together, a perfect rhythm born from pent-up emotions and unsaid words.

Her hands explored the contours of his face, tracing the sharp lines of his jaw and the soft curve of his ears before sliding back down to the nape of his neck. She pulled him closer—if that was even possible—and let out a soft groan, the sound escaping her lips as the kiss deepened.

Catra shifted slightly, adjusting the angle of their connection. Their lips brushed and collided in a slow, deliberate rhythm now, the initial rush settling into something more intoxicating. Their teeth grazed against each other occasionally, not in clumsiness but in a subtle battle for dominance that neither seemed eager to win.

Every shared breath, every small gasp as they came up for air, seemed to echo in the room, amplifying the tension. Their bodies fit together perfectly, as if molded by some unseen force. Adora felt her heart pounding in her chest, her emotions raw and exposed in a way she hadn’t allowed herself to feel before.

The kiss slowed but lost none of its intensity, the two of them locked in a moment that seemed to stretch on forever. When they finally broke apart, their foreheads rested against each other, both of them panting softly, their eyes half-lidded but locked in an unspoken understanding.

Adora’s voice was barely a whisper. “I didn’t think you’d actually...”

Catra smirked again, though this time it was softer, almost tender. “You talk too much,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Adora didn’t argue. She just smiled faintly, her cheeks flushed, as she let herself stay in the moment, caught between the overwhelming intensity of the kiss and the undeniable pull of the boy who had just upended her entire world.

—

Ranger stepped into the camp, his sharp senses immediately picking up on the faint remnants of Catra’s scent lingering in the air. His jaw tightened, but he forced himself to stay composed. Without hesitation, he walked to Adora’s room, finding her mid-motion, packing her belongings in quiet frustration.

Adora glanced at him briefly but said nothing, her lips pressed into a firm line.

Ranger took a deep breath, shoving his hands into his pockets as if grounding himself. “I’m sorry,” he started, his voice softer than usual. “I may have reacted... a little harshly earlier.”

Adora paused her folding, turning her full attention to him. Her expression was unreadable.

Ranger sighed heavily, the weight of his own words dragging him down. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. It got to me, okay? And I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to be treated like that—I should have pulled you aside and talked to you properly.”

Adora gave a small nod, her face softening. “Can I still train with Catra?” she asked hesitantly.

“No,” Ranger replied immediately, his tone firm. “You can’t continue your training with him anymore.”

Adora stiffened, her jaw clenching. “Why not?”

Ranger sighed again, rubbing a hand through his hair before pinching the bridge of his nose, clearly wrestling with the explanation. “Look, Adora,” he began, “I’m sorry for how I said it before, but my decision still stands. You can’t learn how to be a vampire from him. Wolves and vampires... we’re different. Our abilities might overlap here and there, but on a cellular level, we don’t function the same. You need to understand what you are, not what he is. I’ll train you myself.”

Adora crossed her arms, clearly unsatisfied, but she held her tongue as Ranger continued. “Frapta and hordak are going to run more tests tonight after dinner. Tomorrow night, we hit the road. End of discussion.”

“This wasn’t a discussion, Dad,” Adora muttered, her tone laced with defiance. She rolled her eyes. “But fine. Can you leave now? I want to finish packing.”

Ranger gave a curt nod and turned to leave, but he paused at the door, a thought giving him reason to stop. Without turning back, he added, “He’s not allowed in here, Adora.”

Before he could finish the thought, the door slammed shut with a forceful blur of motion, and the sharp click of the lock followed.

Ranger’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He sighed, stepping out of the house to take the call.

“Hey, honey,” he greeted, his voice weary. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” his wife replied, her tone warm yet tinged with concern. “I just wanted to check in... see how Adora’s doing. I don’t know, I just have this feeling she’s upset.”

Ranger looked up at the sky, exhaling slowly. “Of course,” he murmured. “What happened?” she pressed gently.

Ranger kicked at the dirt, debating how much to share. “She met someone out here. A boy. He’s a little older than her,” he admitted reluctantly.

“How much older?” she interrupted, her voice sharper now.

“Four years,” Ranger replied. “It’s Catra... you know, the one who saved her.”

Silence hung between them for a beat before his wife hummed thoughtfully. “Him? Hmm. From what I remember, he was cute. And sweet.”

Ranger’s frustration bubbled up. “He’s not sweet at all,” he grumbled.

She laughed softly. “What happened?”

Ranger ran a hand down his face, his exhaustion seeping into his voice. “I don’t know. She’s... different when she’s around him. He calms her, and every time they train, she gets hurt—badly. And then there’s his jealous girlfriend, who snapped into a rage and nearly killed our daughter. He had to give her more blood to save her.”

His wife let out a low hum of acknowledgment. “And now her powers are kicking in, and it’s like she’s... changing,” Ranger continued. “I can smell it. I just don’t know what to do, babe.”

A soft chuckle came through the line, comforting yet laced with understanding. “She’s growing up, Rage. She needs time to figure out who she is. And I know you don’t like it, but if you push too hard, we’re going to lose her.”

“I know,” Ranger murmured, his voice heavy with resignation.

“And as for Catra,” she added, her voice firmer now, “I’m not saying his decisions were the best—giving her his blood wasn’t ideal—but I’m thankful. He has a habit of saving our kids, and frankly, I don’t care how he does it as long as they’re alive and well.”

Ranger sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I just... I want her to be safe.”

“She will be,” his wife assured him. “But you have to trust her to figure it out. The harder you push, the harder she’ll fight back. Don’t make her fight you too, Rage.”

He nodded to himself, her words sinking in. “I’ll try,” he promised, though his voice lacked conviction.

“You’ll do more than try,” she said with a teasing edge. “Now go check on our daughter before she marrys the frist man to fight for her and has 3 kids and  raise them human”

Ranger couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at his lips as he ended the call, the weight of fatherhood pressing heavier than ever.

“uhhh , fuck” is all ranger  thought.

LATER AFTER DINNER. 

“Are you ready, Adora?” Ranger asked, rapping his knuckles against the door. His voice was calm but carried the undercurrent of authority he rarely had to force.

Inside, there was a sigh, muffled yet heavy with frustration. The door swung open, revealing Adora with glowing eyes that burned faintly, a reflection of her mounting irritation. She crossed her arms, her tone sharp. “Yes. Let’s get this over with so I can finally talk to someone more reasonable.”

Ranger raised an eyebrow and exhaled, his patience already thinning. “I am reasonable. This—”

“No,” Adora interrupted, cutting him off mid-sentence, her voice filled with defiance. “No, you’re not.”

She rolled her eyes dramatically, brushing past him with supernatural speed. A gust of wind trailed her departure, slamming the curtains against the window frames and causing the cabinet doors to rattle open and shut in her wake. The bedroom door swung precariously, creaking as it swayed back and forth.

Ranger shut his eyes tightly for a moment, exhaling as though trying to purge the rising exasperation from his chest. “Ugh. I’ve never wished more for my kids not to have powers,” he muttered under his breath.

He stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him with a deliberate click before breaking into a steady stride to catch up with her. His expression shifted, a blend of concern and determination hardening his features.

Ranger might have been many things—stubborn, protective, and at times inflexible—but he wasn’t about to let Adora face the world alone, especially not when she carried such raw power and unresolved emotions. Even if he had to chase her down, he’d do what he always did: protect her, guide her, and—he hoped—find a way to bridge the ever-widening gap between them.

_ 

IN THE LAB 

Frapta adjusted her chair, spinning idly before halting abruptly to fix Adora and Catra with a piercing gaze. “Something clearly happened, and I’d like both of you to explain it. But before we get to that, I’m going to outline the distinct changes I’ve observed since you two reconnected at Camp Half Moon.”

Catra rolled his eyes, flopping his  arm over the edge of the chair. With a flick of his wrist toward Frapta, he muttered, “Really? Why is she spinning? Is she four? This is your genius?”

Hordak, leaning casually against the lab table, let out a heavy sigh before walking over to gently stop Frapta’s spinning chair. “We’re not here to judge,” he said, his voice laced with patience. “And yes, even though she might look like she’s lost it—which, to be fair, isn’t entirely untrue—she is the smartest person in the room. She’s made clear, accurate hypotheses about the physiological and biochemical changes both of you are experiencing. And, for the record, many of those predictions have already been proven correct.”

He scratched his head, hesitating briefly, then cleared his throat. “Take, for example, her prediction that Adora’s body would destabilize after prolonged exposure to Catra’s blood. Frapta theorized that your metabolic systems would recalibrate, triggering dormant genetic pathways to manifest. And sure enough, we’ve seen exactly that.”

Frapta nodded in agreement. “That’s correct. I also hypothesized that as Adora’s physiology stabilized, Catra’s would follow suit. And that, too, has been proven.”

Catra blinked, his skepticism replaced by curiosity. “Wait… how was I destabilized in the first place?”

Frapta’s face lit up, thrilled by the question. “Phenomenal question! The problem lies in how your transformation between human and werewolf forms affects your ocular response. Typically, in states of emotional equilibrium, your eyes remain stable—both gold or both blue. But under heightened emotional conditions, such as anger or fear, your eyes fluctuate unpredictably. This inconsistency disrupts homeostasis, creating a feedback loop where your body struggles to synchronize its energy output with your neural and cellular demands.”

Catra’s eyes widened slightly as he glanced at Adora, who gave him a small, knowing smile. “I didn’t realize that happened,” he admitted softly.

Adora turned to Carter, who nodded in confirmation. “It’s been happening since we were kids. I always thought it was just something you inherited from your mother.”

Adora then asked, “So, my powers are directly linked to his?” Her voice was cautious, yet laced with curiosity.

Frapta leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “Essentially, yes. While the full extent of the connection is unclear, the evidence points to a cellular-level bond. When your blood first interacted with his, it acted as a catalyst. Think of it as flipping a switch. Your body entered a state of dormancy, waiting for the introduction of external stimuli—Catra’s blood in this case—to fully activate its latent abilities. From there, your blood began an accelerated process of biochemical adaptation, restructuring itself to integrate and harmonize with his genetic markers.”

Catra frowned. “So, this… bond, or whatever it is, wasn’t always there?”

“Correct,” Frapta confirmed. “The bond was latent. Your bodies were essentially ‘programmed’ to recognize and activate each other, but the trigger required a physical exchange of genetic material. Once activated, your systems synchronized. However, there’s more to explore. For instance, we don’t yet know why this connection exists exclusively between the two of you. Is it a genetic anomaly? A rare evolutionary trait? Those are the questions we’re trying to answer.”

Adora’s father, Ranger, spoke up, his tone brisk. “And you’ll have answers soon enough. We’re leaving tomorrow, Frapta. You have tonight to finalize your findings.”

Adora groaned, standing abruptly. “Are you serious? You’re giving her a day to figure this out after we’ve been here for nearly two weeks? That’s not how science works, Dad. You can’t just rush—”

Ranger cut her off, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Enough, Adora. This discussion is over. We’re leaving. Frapta has all the data she needs. The lab results confirm that both of you are stable. That’s all we need for now.”

Adora exhaled sharply, her frustration barely contained. “This makes no sense,” she muttered under her breath. “You’re not even giving her a chance to—”

“Adora,” Frapta interrupted gently. “Thank you, but it’s fine. I can get what your father needs done.”

Adora sat down, looking at Frapta with a sigh. “Okay,” she said softly.

As Frapta turned back to her notes, Adora abruptly stood. “No, it’s not,” she said firmly.

She continued, her voice filled with determination, “At least let me explain what happened to you while I passed out. It should confirm or give you whatever additional information you might need, Frapta.”

Frapta looked up from her notes, studying Adora for a moment before nodding. “Okay,” she said simply.

Adora stood, her anger radiating through the room. Her father’s incessant need to assert his authority was pushing her to the edge. Her hands trembled slightly, betraying her frustration, and she rolled her neck, taking a sharp breath to steady herself before speaking.

“So,” she began, her voice steady but tinged with restrained anger. She hesitated briefly, unsure whether to reveal the truth before having a proper conversation with Catra. Her eyes lingered on him—those piercing amber and blue eyes—and she continued. “It started with Aluna. She explained that my connection to Catra isn’t just a coincidence—it’s ancient, rooted in something far bigger than we can comprehend. She said our bond is tied to the essence of creation itself.

“Solas’ soul came early this time, like a glitch in the system. He came after her before, but this time, he arrived first. She thinks it’s because, after she died, he was left to roam for so long—he learned from pain, grief, love, and self-discovery. This time, Catra was born first, and somehow, he carries that too. It’s like... they’ve been preparing us for what’s coming. For what we’re supposed to be.”

Adora paused, her gaze dropping momentarily. Her voice softened, growing more intense. “Aluna spoke of the chaos in the world—the desperation of supernatural beings seeking guidance. They’re broken. We’re broken. Scattered, fighting for power without understanding the cost. Humans shattered us, but it wasn’t just their fault. She said we’ve been leaderless for so long that we’ve forgotten what true leadership looks like. And now... it’s supposed to be us. Me and Catra.”

Catra sat up, his full attention fixed on her. The room was silent except for her voice. Carter, Ranger, Frapta, and Hordak watched her intently, their expressions a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

“She said the blood in our veins is the foundation of every creature in the shadows—shifters, beings trying to balance their instincts and humanity. We’re not just inheriting their power; we’re inheriting their legacy. Their failures. Their hopes. Aluna told me she died because she wanted to coexist. That love cost her her life—and eventually, Solas’ life too. They killed him, and most of his bloodline, out of fear. And now, we’re the way to fix what she couldn’t.”

Her hands gripped the edge of her chair as she steadied herself. “She said the power inside us will make us unstoppable, but we’ll still feel pain. That’s the price. And she warned us not to let fear hold us back. The world will fight us, misunderstand us, but we’re meant to lead anyway. To protect those who walk in the shadows, even when they don’t realize they need it.”

Her voice faltered briefly, her vulnerability seeping through. “Aluna said we’re becoming immortal. One soul in two bodies. Connected in ways I can’t fully explain yet, Catra. But it’s overwhelming—the responsibility, this... destiny. She told me to embrace it, not to see it as losing myself, but as gaining something greater. She wants you to see it that way too—a chance to shape our lives and the world on our own terms.”

Adora’s eyes shimmered with emotion, her words carrying a raw intensity. “Before she let me go, Aluna told me something that stuck with me: Live. Fight for peace, for freedom, for love—not just for them, but for yourself. For us. She said they’re trying to stop us at every turn, but it’s our strength that will push through.”

Her gaze locked onto Catra, who nodded with quiet understanding. He didn’t doubt her words, his expression one of complete trust. The others, however, wore mixed expressions of disbelief and unease.

Adora straightened, her voice cold as she addressed the group. “Aluna didn’t want to steal our lives; she wanted to give us the strength to make them our own. And then... everything went dark. Not a frightening darkness, but one that was quiet, endless. I woke up feeling different, like something inside me had shifted. I’m not just me anymore—I’m something more. And if you can’t understand that, then you’ll have to learn to deal with it.”

Her piercing gaze swept over Carter, Ranger, Frapta, and Hordak. “I don’t know what happens next. But I know I can’t run from this. And I don’t want to.”

She turned to Catra. “We need to talk. Alone.”

Catra nodded without hesitation, standing up  immediately he was already forming his own questions, but  to match her pace as she exited the room. 

Ranger immediately stood, his voice sharp. “Whatever you have to say to him, you can say to all of us.”

Adora turned to face him before they left, her eyes cold and unwavering. “No.”

With that, she speeds faster than anything they've seen, Catra at her side matching her with ease, leaving Ranger seething. He moved to follow, but Carter stopped him, his voice quiet. “Listen to the wind.”

Ranger paused, confused. All he could hear was silence—no footsteps, no voices, nothing but the wind.

“How...?” Ranger whispered, his frustration palpable.

Carter sighed, shaking his head. “I don’t know. But I do know this: they’re beyond our reach now—in every way that matters. They'll be back”

—-  somewhere in the woods

Catra stopped abruptly, grabbing Adora mid-sprint and yanking her back. Her body flew up before slamming into the ground with a hard thud.

“Ugh, what the hell, Catra?” Adora groaned, glaring at him from the ground.

He stood over her, momentarily silent, then extended his hand to help her up. “Sorry,” he said gruffly, “I just... I have too many things going on in my head.”

As she took his hand and rose, he fixed her with a piercing stare. “Back there—everything you said—was it true?”

Adora dusted herself off, nodding solemnly. “Yes. It’s all true. I wish I could show you, but everything I said is the truth. That thing—or whatever it is—that’s been messing with our heads... it’s why I hear whispers in the wind, why you always see something lurking in the shadows. It’s why you froze when you tried to save me before, why you didn’t act until I was at death’s door.”

Catra began pacing, his movements restless and agitated. Then, suddenly, he stopped, his voice heavy with disbelief. “So, what you're telling me is... I’m becoming immortal? We’re both becoming immortal?”

Adora nodded, her gaze steady.

Catra’s eyes widened, his face contorting with frustration. “Well, shit. That was not the plan. I was supposed to die at some point! And now you’re telling me I’ve got to stay stuck on this godforsaken planet even longer? With these people?”

He let out a sharp, exasperated breath, then flopped dramatically onto his back, staring up at the sky. “I already hate being ‘super,’ and it hasn’t even kicked in yet…” He paused, a sudden thought flashing across his face. Propping himself up on his elbows, he turned to Adora. “Wait. Are we... are we already immortal? Like, right now?”

Adora crouched down beside him, her expression thoughtful but uncertain. “I’m not entirely sure,” she admitted. “All I know is that we’re still in the adjustment phase. I think we’ll know when we fully emerge—when the spirits or shadows or... whatever they are finally connect to us. Right now, they’re just hovering. They haven’t fully merged with our bodies yet.”

Catra flopped back down with a frustrated groan, closing his eyes. “Did they say if there’s a way to... I don’t know, hit reset? Like, if we wanted to die. Is there a weakness we can exploit?”

Without hesitation, Adora replied, “We don’t have any.”

Catra’s eyes flew open, and he sat up, his expression a mix of shock and outrage. “What? You can’t be serious—”

Adora interrupted, her tone calm but firm. “Our only weakness is each other.” She hesitated for a moment, then added, “That’s what they said.”

Catra let out a massive, exasperated groan, running his hands through his hair. “Ughhhhhhh, fucking hell. I’m trapped. There’s no way you’re going to kill me—you’re all soft and weak and shit. I’d at least want a real fight!”

Adora rolled her eyes, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “You’re so dramatic,” she teased lightly.

—-

 2 Days ago

“That will be a grave mistake,” Frapta said firmly, her voice low but charged with urgency. “They’re clearly inseparable. I’m showing you the data, and you’re still not listening.”

Ranger’s jaw tightened as he crossed his arms, his posture rigid and dismissive. “It doesn’t matter—”

Before the argument could escalate further, Carter stepped in, raising a hand to cut through the tension. “Frapta, explain. Why is it such a bad idea?”

Frapta turned to him, her sharp gaze softening ever so slightly as she drew a steadying breath. “It’s a mistake,” she began, her tone deliberate and measured, “because they’re feeding off each other. Their energy, their matter—whatever is happening to them, whatever they’re transcending into—it’s clearly interconnected. If you remove one while they’re still developing within this ecosystem, it’s going to disrupt the entire system that’s forming. At least from an observatory standpoint, it’s an unnecessary risk.”

She paused, locking eyes with Carter as if willing him to understand the gravity of her words. “Now, I’m not suggesting that nothing might happen,” she admitted carefully.

“ Exactly! ” Ranger shouted, throwing his arms up in exasperation. “So, I can leave tonight. It’s already noon, and nothing’s changed. Nothing is changing! So what’s stopping us from leaving?”

Frapta’s frustration boiled over, her voice rising just enough to match his intensity without losing its edge of authority. “You’re not listening to what I’m saying, Ranger!” she snapped, her hands clenching into fists at her sides.

The room fell into a tense silence, the weight of her words hanging thick in the air. Ranger looked at her, his defiance flickering with uncertainty, while Carter’s thoughtful expression deepened.

Frapta’s voice softened, though her conviction remained unshaken. “This isn’t just about timing or convenience. It’s about the unseen forces we don’t fully understand yet. If you act rashly, we risk losing everything —them, the data, the balance they’re creating.” She glanced at Ranger again, her tone gentler now but no less resolute. “Are you willing to gamble with something this fragile just because you’re impatient or because your daughter has a crush on a man who doesn't seem to be  scared or afraid of you?”

—- 

Adora and Catra sat by the lake, the quiet rhythm of the water breaking the silence between them. After a moment, Adora spoke, her voice tentative yet direct. “So… you two are broken up?”

Catra nodded slowly, his gaze fixed on the water. “Yeah. And she’s leaving in a couple of months, depending on, if she’s…” He trailed off, looking down at the rippling surface, lost in thought.

Adora’s curiosity got the better of her. “If she’s… what?”

Catra ran a hand through his hair, frustration flickering in his eyes before he sighed. “It’s nothing. But… she’ll be good. Crux will probably take her back—though they already granted him and her passage, and then he’ll probably stay there with Marcel, my uncle. Crux, He wants to get stronger. At least, that much is clear.”

Adora nodded, processing his words, the weight of the situation lingering in the space between them.

They sat there in silence, staring into the lake, the only sound the soft rustling of leaves in the wind.

Then, suddenly, Adora stood up, an idea striking her. “Let’s swim.”

Catra glanced up, surprise flashing in his eyes as he watched her. “What?”

“That’s the one thing I haven’t done since I’ve been here,” she said, her voice carrying a note of playful determination. “The whole time, and I still haven’t swum. Come on, please?” She added, her tone shifting to a subtle pleading.

Catra laughed softly, a rare, easy sound. “Fine, but let’s go to a more shaded spot. I’m not trying to roast in the sun.”

Adora’s smile grew, and with a quick nod, she stepped back. “Lead the way.”

Catra rose to his feet, casting one last, lingering glance at the lake before he turned and began walking. Adora followed, her heart a little lighter as they moved off together into the cool shade, the silence now comfortable, shared, and full of unspoken understanding.

-

They played in the water, both stripped down to their underwear, their laughter filling the air as Catra kept trying to dodge Adora. They wrestled in the lake, splashing and laughing, reveling in the carefree joy of the moment. The energy between them was palpable—lighthearted yet full of unspoken tension.

Suddenly, Catra grinned mischievously. "Marco!" he called out, swimming swiftly through the water with the ease of someone completely at home in it.

"Polo!" Adora shouted back, but she wasn’t quite as fast. She struggled to keep up, her movements less graceful than his, her confidence still building as she learned how to move in the water. She tried to mimic his speed, but instead, she splashed, her voice coming out more like a gurgle as water filled her mouth.

“Marco!” she tried again, this time swallowing some water as she struggled to keep her head above the surface. The playful game continued until, eventually, the water’s pull started to make Adora feel disoriented. The seaweed, thick and tangled, wrapped around her legs, pulling her deeper. She tugged at it desperately, but the more she tried to free herself, the tighter it seemed to get.

Catra was far off, laughing, completely unaware of her struggle. "Polo," he called out, three times before he finally stopped. He narrowed his gaze, sensing something was wrong when she didn’t reply. He swam toward her, cutting through the water with precision.

When he saw her caught in the seaweed, panic rising in her eyes, he moved swiftly. His claws extended, slicing through the thick strands with ease. “Sorry,” he said, his voice soft yet urgent as he freed her. “I should’ve warned you about the wire leaves. They’re imported from Lykora. They drain energy from whatever they wrap around.”

Adora exhaled sharply, still a little shaken. “I need a break,” she said, her voice a mix of relief and frustration.

Catra nodded. “Let’s go by that tree,” he said, pointing to a large, shaded spot further down the shore. But as they swam toward it, Adora got caught again, this time both of her legs ensnared.

“Catra!” she shouted, the panic rising in her voice as the seaweed gripped her even tighter.

Catra’s eyes widened with alarm. Without hesitation, he rushed to her, slicing through the seaweed with swift, practiced motions. Once free, he pulled her close, holding her tightly against him.

“Relax, Adora. You’re fine,” he said softly, a playful smile tugging at his lips, though he was doing his best to suppress the laughter that threatened to bubble up. “Someone was supposed to be supernatural, soon to be immortal, yet you sure do panic a lot.”

Adora rolled her eyes, the tension in her body easing as she clung to him. But just as she relaxed, she felt something brush against her leg beneath the water. She stiffened instinctively, her hands tightening around his body.

Catra’s muscles flexed beneath her hands, and for a moment, everything slowed. The water swirled around them, and the weight of their proximity settled in. Adora felt the heat of his skin against hers, his presence filling every space between them. His eyes softened as he looked at her, a hint of vulnerability flickering in them.

She  spoke again, her voice low and intimate, “I’m not the biggest fan of open water. When I was little, I got swept away at the beach. My mom swam out to get me, but then we were both too far. I clung to her until my dad showed up and swam us back to shore. I prefer pools now.”

Adora’s breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening as she looked at him. His voice was soft, “I understand. I prefer pools to controlled spaces. I get it .”

Catra gently brushed the wet hair behind her ear, his fingers lingering along the soft curve of her neck. His eyes lingered on her lips, then traveled to her eyes before returning to her lips again, and with a slow, deliberate movement, he closed the distance between them.

The first touch of their lips was soft, a hesitant meeting of saltwater and desire. Adora could taste the sea, feel the pulse of the water around them, as their lips melded together. He pulled her closer, feeling the subtle shiver that ran through her when his hands grazed her skin. The sensation of the water moving around them only intensified the pull between them.

Catra’s grip tightened, and the kiss deepened, the connection between them undeniable. Adora responded, her body pressing against his, her lips claiming his with a desperate need. She bit his lip gently, then sucked it between her teeth, pulling a low groan from him.

“Well, well, look who’s a little spicy,” Catra teased with a smile, but Adora only rolled her eyes, unfazed.

Before she could respond, Catra kissed her again, more urgently this time. The world seemed to disappear around them, leaving nothing but the heated press of their bodies and the intensity of their kiss. The water was forgotten, their immortality no longer a concern—just the electric connection sparking between them, drawing them closer, making the world feel small. 

As they broke the kiss, Catra slowly pulled away, his fingers lingering as he tugged gently at Adora's bottom lip. His gaze never wavered from her swollen lips, his eyes dark with desire as he traced his thumb over the bruised skin. The tenderness in his touch contrasted with the fire between them, the weight of their connection palpable.

He leaned in again, this time pressing a soft, lingering kiss against her bottom lip, pulling it gently between his own. The action was slow, deliberate, as if savoring the taste of her, the sensation of her body against his. He felt the pulse of her breath against his skin, heard the barely audible sigh that escaped her lips.

When he finally pulled back, his eyes locked onto hers, full of unspoken words. He looked at her with such intensity, his smile almost predatory yet full of tenderness. “Let’s get out of the water,” he said softly, his voice a low murmur that seemed to vibrate through her.

Adora nodded, her breath still shaky from the kiss, her heart racing in her chest. She could feel the heat radiating from his body, the electricity still hanging in the air between them. For a moment, everything else faded away, leaving only the two of them, caught in the aftermath of a kiss that was more than just a kiss.

–

As they approached the large tree, Adora could feel her body tremble with desire. Her nipples hardened and she stopped in front of the tree, unable to resist its pull. Catra walked up behind her and turned her around, pushing her back against the rough bark. He pressed his lips to hers with a heated intensity, their tongues entwining in a frenzy. Adora moaned as he sucked on her tongue, igniting a fiery passion within her.

Their bodies moved in sync as they explored each other's mouths, their hands roaming over every inch of exposed skin. Catra's fingers trailed up to her breasts, teasing her hardened nipples through the fabric of her shirt. Adora arched into his touch, craving more.

Catra groaned in response to her gasps and broke the kiss, trailing his lips down her neck and chest. He took pleasure in licking off the salty water that still clung to her skin from their earlier swim. His cool breath sent shivers down Adora's spine as he continued his journey downwards.

He latched onto one covered nipple with fervor, sucking on the fabric-covered bud relentlessly. The pressure was intense but pleasurable, causing Adora to moan loudly.

As one hand continued to caress and cup her breast, the other roamed down towards her backside. Catra squeezed it firmly, his claws extending slightly and puncturing through her panties. Adora couldn't help but arch into him, feeling a mix of pleasure and pain.

Her own hand traveled over his muscular back and chest before finding its way to his face. She pulled him in for another deep kiss, using her tongue to explore every inch of his mouth. Then, following his lead, she traced a path down his jawline and neck before reaching his chest.

With a soft bite of her fangs, she grazed over one of his nipples before sinking them in, sucking on his blood with fervor. Catra moaned and watched her intently, his eyes filled with lust as she fed on him.

"Mmm," he murmured before pulling her into another passionate embrace, their bodies moving in a sensual dance as they explored each other's desires.

—

As he savored the metallic taste of his blood on his lips, he purposely nicked his tongue on her fang,He groaned at the mix of pain and pleasure as his blood began to pour into her mouth.  relishing in the sharp pain it brought. He then dragged his tongue over her fang making it sink deeper,  adoras moaning closing her eyes as She groaned, She  began to  eagerly suckle on his tongue sucking harder and harder to fill  her mouth her throat with his blood and savoring every drop. 

"Fuck, that was so hot," Catra said  his tone almost like a growling purr, pulling back from their kiss. Her eyes were heavy-lidded and glazed over with desire. Adora leaned back against a tree, dragging her blunt nails harshly up his muscular arms until they began to bleed. She then kissed and licked the bloody trails, reveling in their combined taste. Adora  dragged her tongue all the way up his arm, neck, jaw to his lips to  ignite a kiss, But before they could deepen their kiss,  Catra pushed her back against the tree, pressing his claws into her ass as their lips met again. 

The salty water mingled with their saliva as they deepened the kiss, their bodies pressed against each other in a frenzy of lust.  Catra pulls away chuckling as adora groans out in  frustration, The sharp claws  dug into her flesh as she looked up at him with longing in her eyes, their lips brushed against each other  again  she felt the coldness of the water mix with their saliva and traces of salt and blood.

"Kiss me already," Adora whispered against Catra's lips, unable to resist any longer. He captured her mouth with his own and they shared a deep and passionate kiss until he pulled away abruptly, his breath heavy. “We can’t do this here, with your father around,” he reminded her, his voice low and serious.

But Adora didn't care about that. She wanted him now and forever.  but she can keep that part to herself a little bit longer. she thought. 

"Let's do this tonight," Catra said, meeting her gaze with equal intensity. "Meet me right here." 

“Yes,” Adora breathed, the word escaping her lips before she could even think it through.

As Catra pulled away to gather their clothes, Adora’s heart skipped a beat. Then, it hit her. “But I’m leaving tonight... Can we meet up before I go”  

he ran a hand through his wet hair, muttering under his breath, “Fuck… I forgot your dad was being a bitch.”

“Hey!” Adora snapped, narrowing her eyes. “Don’t call him that—only I get to call him that.”

Catra rolled his eyes, a teasing smirk playing on his lips. “Fine, I won’t call him a bitch. But sometimes bitches act like bitches, and you just gotta call it what it is. It’s bitch shit, Adora.”

She groaned, walking up to him and shoving his chest. “Stop it.”

He laughed, barely budging at her push. “See, this is what I mean. You’re a weak-ass noodle. You need to work that body out now that your powers are kicking in. Hell, maybe train with your dad. I don’t know much about vamps, but you—”

Adora sighed, cutting him off as she bent to pick up her clothes. “Yeah, I guess you’re right, but I don’t want to think about that right now. I’d much rather…” She trailed off, a sly smile creeping onto her lips. “...keep kissing.” 

Catra obliged, capturing her mouth with his own in a kiss that burned with intensity, sending shivers down her spine. Just as she felt herself lose all sense of the world, he pulled away, adora groans at the distance 

Catra threw his head back, laughing. They began walking back toward the main camp, their footsteps splashing softly in the water.

After a beat of silence, Catra spoke again, his voice dropping an octave. “So… I wanna fuck, but I know you’re not ready for that yet. It’s cool. But, um… can I eat you out tonight? At least give it a thorough look?”

Adora froze mid-step, her cheeks instantly flaming. The blush spread like wildfire, consuming her face and creeping down her neck. “I… uh…” She stammered, her mind blank as she tried to find the words. Finally, she managed, “Why are you so blunt all the time?”

Catra laughed, his voice rich and unbothered. “Because I don’t want there to be any guessing. Sex should be clear—no confusion. Otherwise, you end up in some messy situation, like the newer version of whatever me and River just ended. I’m not about that shit.” He paused, his sharp eyes softening slightly as he looked at her with a rare sincerity. “I want a sexual relationship with you, Adora. But if you’re second-guessing anything, then something’s wrong. Everything between us should be upfront and on the table, babe.”

For a moment, the air between them grew still as his expression shifted again, this time more vulnerable. “I’m not rushing you, Adora,” he added quietly. “You kiss good… really good. And…” He cleared his throat, trying to cover the faint blush spreading across his cheeks. “I’m fine with waiting. I’ll wine and dine you, do the whole boyfriend thing. I feel like that’s what you want anyway.” He chuckled softly, trying to diffuse the weight of his own words.

Adora blinked, caught off guard by his honesty. She nodded slowly, then shrugged, her lips curving into a small, thoughtful smile. “I just want to get to know you better. I’d like for us to eventually start dating, but… I just can’t have sex without a connection. Especially with someone I actually want that connection with. Something beyond just the physical stuff.” Her voice softened, the words coming out in an almost timid confession. “I like you,” she said aloud, though in the back of her mind, the truth screamed louder: I’m in love with this asshole. I’m so fucked… Ugh, I love him so much.

They nodded at each other, the silence that followed comfortable and unspokenly understanding. Their footsteps fell in rhythm as they walked, the world around them fading into the background. Adora’s mind, however, was anything but quiet, reeling with his words, his candor, and how he said it so casually—like it was no big deal, even though it sent her heart spiraling.

Catra suddenly stopped, his ears twitching as his posture shifted. His tone darkened, dripping with disdain. “I’m not in the mood for your dad,” he muttered, scanning ahead. “I’ll head to my space. Text me if you’re coming over. I’ll clean up the rest of yours and River’s blood and maybe grab a new mattress from storage while I’m at it.”

Adora nodded, waving him off. “Okay. See you later.”

As Catra turned and walked away, he glanced over his shoulder and shot Ranger a deliberate middle finger. Ranger’s gaze followed him, jaw tightening, before it shifted to Adora. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and suspicion as he scanned her, taking in her soaked state and disheveled appearance.

“Why are you in your underwear?” he asked flatly, his voice sharp and unamused.

Adora rolled her eyes, brushing past him with an exasperated huff. “What does it look like?” she muttered, water dripping from her clothes as she made her way toward camp.

—-

Adora finished packing, carefully placing her bags in the living room. Ranger walked in, his expression distant but composed. “Frapta wants to run a few more tests. Carter agrees,” he said flatly. “We’re leaving the day after tomorrow, early morning. I’m putting myself in REM until then. I need to reset.” Without waiting for a response, he turned and headed to his room, the door clicking shut behind him.

Time passed slowly. After about five hours, Adora glanced at the clock, a frustrated sigh escaping her lips. She had already finished two books, and the restlessness was gnawing at her. Sitting around wasn’t something she could tolerate for long. Determined, she stood up and walked to Ranger’s door, hesitating for just a moment before knocking.

When the door opened, her father’s face appeared, tired but curious. “What’s up?” he asked, his voice low.

Adora paused, her thoughts scrambling to form an answer. “I’ve been thinking,” she said carefully, her tone more confident than she felt. “I want to get a better handle on my powers, and I’d really like you to train me. Can we start now?”

Ranger let out a long sigh, leaning against the doorframe. “I was just starting to wind down,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. “If I train you now, I’ll be even more wiped out.”

Adora’s face fell, her shoulders sagging slightly as she dropped her gaze. The disappointment was clear, but it didn’t last long. She raised her head, her eyes wide and pleading, practically perfecting the puppy-dog look that always managed to tug at her father’s resolve. He groaned softly, shaking his head. “Fine,” he muttered. “Let’s get this over with.”

Adora’s face lit up as she followed him to the training area. The session was intense, lasting about two and a half to three hours. Ranger pushed her hard, guiding her through exercises that tested both her physical endurance and her control over her emerging abilities. By the end, he was visibly drained, his movements slower as he signaled the end of their session.

“I’m done,” he said with a gruff laugh, wiping sweat from his forehead. “I’m going to shower, change, and pass out. You should do the same.”

Adora nodded, watching as he retreated to his room, the door closing behind him. She stood in the empty space for a moment, letting the adrenaline from their training slowly dissipate. A small smile crept across her face as she headed toward the bathroom, already thinking about what came next.

She showered, letting the water wash away the exhaustion and tension from her body. As she dried off and dressed, there was a new determination in her eyes. Whatever came next, she was ready—or at least, she was willing to face it head-on. 

—- early morning 3am 2 days ago.   

Adora snuck into the lab quietly, her steps light as she observed Frapta engrossed in her work. The scientist was hunched over a console, various holograms and data streams illuminating her face.

“Hey, Frapta. Good morning,” Adora greeted softly.

Frapta turned around, startled at first, but her expression quickly softened into a warm smile. “Oh, hello, Adora. This is unexpected. Did we have a test scheduled? Hordak usually informs me about the day's plans.”

Adora shook her head, her nerves apparent in the slight tremor of her voice. “No, no... nothing like that. I just—umm—wanted to talk to you about something. Without my dad around, if that’s okay with you.”

Frapta tilted her head slightly, intrigued. “Of course. I don’t see why not. What’s on your mind?” She set her tools aside, giving Adora her full attention.

Adora hesitated for a moment before pulling a chair closer, seating herself directly across from Frapta. “First, I just want to thank you for not making everything feel so... uncomfortable for us. You know, with all the poking and prodding that usually comes with tests like these. You’ve been kind about it, and I appreciate that.” She paused, gathering her thoughts. “But I was wondering if you could talk to my dad. Maybe try to convince him to let us stay here a little longer.”

Frapta’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “Stay longer? Why would you want that?”

Adora fidgeted slightly, choosing her words carefully. “I’m worried that if I leave this environment—this camp—I might disrupt the stasis I’ve been in. I didn’t start unlocking my powers until I reconnected with Cara here, and nothing else has triggered my abilities the way being here has. I’m scared that leaving too soon could set me back.”

Frapta leaned back in her chair, her sharp gaze focused intently on Adora. “That’s an interesting hypothesis,” she murmured, clearly turning the idea over in her mind. “But from what we’ve observed so far, your powers appear to be rooted more in biological factors than environmental ones. The location itself may not be as critical as you think.”

Adora sighed, her frustration evident as she tried to think of another way to make her case. Her voice grew more earnest. “But I need more time, Frapta. I need to observe this for myself. Just two more days—or whatever you think is reasonable—so I can gather more data. I’ll share all my findings with you, and... I’ll even tell you something else I’ve been keeping quiet about. Something I’ve only shared with Catra. But you have to promise me—this stays between us. No telling my dad, Hordak, or Carter.”

Frapta’s eyes narrowed slightly, a glimmer of intrigue sparking in her expression. “All right. You have my word. Tell me.”

Adora exhaled in relief, a small smile breaking across her face. She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Catra and I... we’re becoming immortal. Soon, I’ll have every form of supernatural power. Once Aluna and Solas merge with our bodies, everything will change.”

Frapta’s expression shifted instantly, her professional demeanor giving way to genuine fascination. “Immortality? Aluna and Solas entering your bodies?” Her voice was tinged with both skepticism and intrigue. “You’re talking about cosmic forces merging with biological beings. This is... extraordinary. Tell me more.”

Adora slipped into her best attempt at sexy lingerie, the delicate fabric hugging her curves just right. She let her hair fall loose, a cascade of waves framing her face. Taking a steadying breath she put on a shirt and jeans, she then  opened her bedroom window, glancing down at the sturdy tree just outside. With practiced ease, she climbed down, landing softly on the grass below. Without hesitation, she took off, her pulse quickening as she made her way to Catra’s place.

When she arrived, she found him in the middle of tearing apart a blood stained mattress, the fabric shredded and debris scattered across the outside of his  building. 

“Hey,” she greeted, her voice light and teasing as she waved and sauntered over to him.

Catra glanced up, his expression a mix of annoyance and amusement. “Hey, Adora,” he replied, his tone calm but edged with sarcasm.

She tilted her head, curiosity sparking in her eyes. “What are you doing?”

He paused, letting out an exaggerated sigh before turning fully to face her. “What does it look like I’m doing? I’m ripping up the bloody mattress you so generously left for me.” His sharp words softened with a playful smirk as he dropped the torn remnants to the ground and ran his fingers through his hair. He swiftly gathered it into a messy, wild bun, his movements fluid and natural.

“It’s been taking me hours to clean all the blood out of the apartment,” he added, finally taking a good look at her. His gaze lingered, and a sly grin spread across his face. “I like your hair down. You should wear it like that more often.”

Heat rose to Adora’s cheeks, but before she could respond, Catra closed the space between them. He reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers brushing her skin. The intimate gesture sent a shiver down her spine. Without hesitation, he cupped her face and leaned in, pressing his lips to hers in a soft, deliberate kiss.

Adora melted into him, her arms wrapping around his waist. Her fingers gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as their bodies pressed together. He growled low in his throat, deepening the kiss with a raw intensity that made her knees weak. His tongue teased her lips before plunging into her mouth, exploring, claiming. She moaned softly against him, lost in the moment.

When she finally pulled back, breathless, Catra wasn’t ready to let her go. He recaptured her lips, sucking gently before releasing them with a quiet pop. His devilish grin sent her heart racing.

“Come inside,” he said, his voice low and full of promise. “I’ll clean this mess up later.”

Before she could argue, he grabbed her hand, leading her into the building and up the stairs to his apartment.

As they stepped inside, Adora looked around, her eyebrows raising in surprise. “Wow, you really did clean up. It smells and looks way better in here.”

Catra rolled his eyes, shutting the door behind them. “Are you saying my place stunk before?”

Adora laughed, leaning against the wall. “No, but as a vamp, any wolf smell is strong , even if my powers aren’t fully activated yet.”

He hummed thoughtfully, his lips curving into a grin. “I get it. Kind of like how you guys always smell like rotting flesh?” He chuckled, clearly enjoying himself.

Adora shoved his shoulder, feigning offense. “Hey! So, you want to fuck a corpse, huh?”

Catra threw his head back, laughing as he flopped onto the couch, spreading his legs lazily. “Apparently.”

Adora rolled her eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at her lips. She casually locks it with a deliberate click.

Catra raised an eyebrow, watching her intently. “Planning something?”

She sauntered over, her movements slow and deliberate, before settling at the far end of the couch. “Nope, not at all,” she replied, a sly smirk forming as she leaned back, her gaze flicking to his with playful defiance.

Catra’s grin widened, his eyes darkening with anticipation. The air between them crackled with tension, both of them fully aware of the unspoken challenge hanging in the space between their words.

Adora sank into the couch, kicking off her sneakers with a tired sigh. She grabbed a pillow and hugged it close, but before she could settle in, Catra grabbed the same pillow, pulling her closer to him.

“Come here,” he murmured, his voice low and raspy.

Adora tugged back playfully, resisting him for a moment, but with a quick flex of his arm, he tightened his grip and gave a swift tug. She was pulled forward, and before she could react, his hand found her leg, gripping it firmly as he guided her into his lap.

He smiled, his expression mischievous. “You like to be manhandled, don’t you?”

Adora’s cheeks flushed crimson, and she tried to compose herself. “No, there’s no proof of what you’re saying,” she replied, though her voice lacked conviction.

Catra laughed, his gaze warm but challenging. “There’s proof I could show you… if you’d like.”

Adora smirked, leaning in as if to kiss him, but at the last second, she pressed a finger to his nose. “Behave, Catra. Don’t do something I can’t hide.”

He grinned, leaning back slightly as if to study her face. “So… we are going to do stuff?”

Adora’s blush deepened, creeping across her cheeks and down her neck. “I mean… I also want to do… stuff ,” she admitted, her words hesitant but honest. “But I’m not ready for sex—not in this situation. My dad could wake up at any moment and come looking for me, and I’d rather not get caught like that .”

Catra nodded thoughtfully, his hands resting on her waist. Then, with deliberate slowness, his hands slipped lower, settling on her hips before moving to her ass. He gave a firm squeeze, his touch confident and teasing.

“You really do have a nice ass,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Tight, firm… and if you’d just—” He tugged her forward, positioning her so she was sitting directly on his lap right over his dick, pressing against him.

“Much better,” he said with a sly smile, his eyes locking onto hers.

Adora rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped her lips. She shifted slightly, adjusting to get comfortable as she straddled him.

Catra’s smile widened, his hands still firmly on her, his thumb brushing slow circles against her hips. 

He looks at her his voices till low and raspy and say “ so, what do you wanna do he said” adora instantly has an idea she been thinking about well dreaming about for awhile  

Adora blushes deeply, her cheeks burning as she stammers, “What… is this? What are we doing? I don’t want to seem weird, but with me leaving and everything, I just don’t know what’s happening.”

Catra’s grip tightens slightly, grounding her. His expression softens, and he says simply, “We’ve got all eternity to figure out what we are. But if you’re asking whether I’m messing around with other girls—no. I’m here for us . Of course,” he adds with a sly smirk, “I want to fuck the shit out of you, but I’m not forcing anything. Not unless you’re cool with it.”

He pauses, his tone shifting to something more serious as he takes her chin gently in his hand, tilting her face up so she meets his gaze. “I’m dead serious, Adora. I’m down for whatever you’re ready for. I’ll let you lead, and then I’ll take over once I get what you’re going for. But if you say stop—” His eyes lock with hers, and his voice softens even more, full of sincerity. “I’ll stop. No questions. No pushing.”

Adora nods, swallowing hard as the blush spreads further down her neck. She’s overwhelmed but in the best way. Her lips part, and she hesitates before whispering, “I would like to… um… maybe…” She bites her lip, looking up at him nervously. “Sixty-nine, if that’s cool.”

Her heart pounds as the words hang in the air. She thinks, This might be a bit much—we’ve only just started. But honestly, a girl’s got needs. She’s spent countless nights dreaming of this moment, craving him in a way that consumed her thoughts, and now that it’s here, there’s no turning back.

Adora can’t help but think of Aluna and Solas, how their bond radiated something untouchable and raw. She remembers the way they looked at each other, how it seemed like nothing else in the world mattered. She feels a flicker of hope and determination that their own connection could mirror that, could transcend the chaos.

She decides she’s grown enough to own what she wants, and if this is what they are, so be it. Leaning in, she doesn’t give herself time to overthink. Her hands find their way to his shoulders, and she rushes to kiss him, her lips pressing firmly against his with a desperation she hadn’t realized was building.

Catra’s response is instant, his hands sliding up her back to hold her close as he deepens the kiss. The world around them fades, and for the first time in what feels like forever, Adora lets herself fall into the moment, into him.

Catra’s hands roamed up and down Adora’s back, his touch deliberate and teasing. Slowly, he slipped his fingers beneath her shirt, his fingertips gliding across her skin with a gentleness that made her shiver. He traced her subtle, forming abs, the motion light and lingering, before his hand cupped her breast. The lace of her bra under his palm only heightened the sensation.

Their lips remained locked, the kiss deep and consuming, until he broke away with a wet pop, licking his lips with a satisfied hum. He leaned back into the couch, his gaze dark and full of desire. “Take off your shirt,” he murmured, his voice husky, laced with intent.

Adora nodded, her hands moving instinctively to the hem of her black shirt. She began to pull it up hastily, but before she could fully remove it, Catra grabbed her wrists gently, halting her movements. “Slow down,” he said, his tone firm but teasing, his eyes fixed on hers. “Be my present—unwrap yourself slowly.”

Her cheeks flushed as she nodded again, this time dragging the fabric up deliberately, her movements slow and purposeful. As the shirt rose over her torso, it caught slightly on her chest, emphasizing the curve of her body. She bit her lip, trying to suppress the mix of shamelessness and embarrassment bubbling within her.

Catra’s gaze was unrelenting, his eyes sharp, like daggers, drinking in every detail of her exposed skin. When she hesitated, he leaned in, his hands joining hers to help guide the fabric up and over her chest. His fingers brushed against her, cupping her breasts as the shirt finally came free.

He hummed, a low, appreciative sound rumbling in his chest. “Mmm… Did you get dressed like this just for me, Adora?” His voice was heavy with a knowing tone, a smirk tugging at his lips, though his eagerness shone through his teasing.

Her breath hitched, her voice barely above a whisper as she replied, “Yes.”

Before she could react, his hands moved swiftly, gripping the shirt. With a firm tug, he tore the fabric effortlessly, leaving her blinking in shock as the ruined garment fell from her body.

“Catra!” she exclaimed, her wide eyes staring at him in disbelief. “What am I supposed to wear now?”

He chuckled, his voice low and warm as he replied, “Mine.” A sly grin spread across his face. “I mean… my clothing.”

The words lingered in the air for a moment before he dipped his head down, his face pressing into the soft space between her breasts. He inhaled deeply, as if savoring her scent, before trailing his tongue along her lace-covered nipple. The wet heat of his mouth sent a shiver through her as he twirled his tongue in slow, deliberate circles.

Adora’s hands instinctively tangled in Catra’s hair, her fingers gripping tightly as her body arched into his touch. The intensity between them was almost unbearable, a storm of sensation and emotion. He attached his lips to her nipple, sucking deeply, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin.

“Ahhh, Cat,” Adora moaned, her voice breathy and strained with need. She tugged at his shirt desperately, the words spilling out in a frantic rush. “Off. Off!”

Catra smirked, his lips still latched to her skin as he sucked harder, drawing a sharp gasp from her. Reluctantly, he pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, tossing it across the room in one swift motion.

“Mmm, fuck,” he muttered under his breath before catching her lips in a hungry kiss. His mouth moved with deliberate intensity, sucking on her lower lip and teasing her tongue with his own. As their kiss deepened, he stood up, lifting Adora with him effortlessly. She yelped, her arms clinging tighter around his neck as her body pressed closer to his.

Her neck was exposed, and he took full advantage, biting and sucking at her skin, leaving a trail of heated kisses. Between each kiss, he glanced up, his sharp gaze checking to ensure she was steady in his arms. He kicked open the bedroom door, his strength evident as he carried her inside, and then he tossed her onto the bed.

Adora landed with a soft bounce, her chest rising and falling as she lay before him, flushed and breathless. Catra’s eyes roamed her body, dark with desire. His voice dropped into a commanding tone as he said, “Take your pants off, or I’ll rip them off myself.”

Adora scrambled forward, her hands fumbling as she tried to tug her pants down. In her haste, she nearly tumbled off the bed, but Catra’s reflexes were swift. He caught her easily, steadying her with firm hands before gently pushing her back against the mattress.

He climbed onto the bed, towering over her, his weight sinking into the space around her. His gaze burned into hers, satisfaction flickering in his expression as she reached out to him. Her hands trailed down his chest, fingers exploring the hard ridges of his abs as they flexed under her touch.

Leaning closer, she inhaled deeply, the scent of his skin making her pulse race. Her head rested against his stomach for a moment, her lips brushing the warm surface before her tongue darted out. She licked the taut skin, her kisses turning into gentle sucks as she marked a path downward.

Then her teeth grazed a thick vein protruding along his V-line. With a deliberate bite, she applied just enough pressure to make him grunt.

“Fuck,” Catra hissed, his voice low and gravelly, a mix of pleasure and restraint. 

Adora's hands grip his thighs tightly,feeling the firm muscles beneath her touch.  her nails digging into the flesh under his pants as she stares at his bulge with hunger in her eyes. She moves her hands to his bulge, giving it a tight squeeze before locking eyes with him. She can feel the heat radiating from it, and her own body responds with a pulsing ache between her legs. Her clit throbbing, as she  fixes her eyes with  fierce look of determination,

 She tugs down his pants, revealing his  semi-erect cock, Her breath catches at the sight of it - thick and veiny, with the intoxicating scent of soap lingering on its skin. Though not fully hard it stands pretty tall and proud before her even though he's not fully hard. 

Without hesitation, Adora leans in to take a closer smell, his  cat-like eyes locking with hers as he bites his lip in anticipation. "You're smaller than I thought,"  she says with smirks forming on her lips, her mouth waters. She leans in closer, taking in the view of his throbbing member, and Catra watches with anticipation, Catra  rolls his eyes and raises an eyebrow in challenge. "Put it in your mouth and watch it grow," he taunts as she takes him in her hand, stroking him slowly as she continues to gaze deep into his eyes.

 Then with a wicked grin, she opens her mouth and drags her tongue over the sensitive skin of his cock, coating it with her saliva. She moves up and down, brushing her lips and teeth along the length of him before finally enveloping him fully in her mouth. His reaction is immediate - a groan escapes Catra's lips as he watches Adora; With each kiss and suck, she feels him grow harder in her mouth, sending shivers down her spine. She takes him in deeper, using her tongue to wet every inch of him before pulling back and setting a steady rhythm. pleasure him with fervent enthusiasm.

She sucks on him greedily, feeling every twitch and shudder as he grows even harder within her mouth. Her tongue swirls around his head, eliciting moans of pleasure from Catra as he clutches at her hair, tugging it tightly moving her up and down “ mmm, uhhhh” she makes a growling sound around his dick as he moves her head.  

“Fuck, just like that…  keep going” catra says looking at her,  Adora keeps up a steady rhythm, sliding her mouth up and down his length, spit start to gather around it, getting it so wet it make his skin glisten, she then uses her hand to stroke whatever parts of him she can't fit in her mouth.

While he starts moving her head faster.  Spit starts to drip down her chin and is filling his bush with her  saliva slowly dripping down his thighs. As they both become lost in their own pleasure, Adora's eyes locked onto his face, watching as every little movement brings him closer to the edge. 

 Catra watches with an open mouth as Adora devours him with abandon, her  flutter closed  showing just how lost she is in the sensation in the moment, And he can't help but lick his own lips in anticipation. 

He pulls her off his dick her mouth wet and leaving a long thick dripping Stran of spit connecting his dick to her lips, he leans down holding her head tilting back and licks off the spit before spitting it back in her mouth. 

"How do I taste?"  Catras' voice was soft,  trembling with raw desire. Her  eyes, completely dilated, locked onto his with an intensity that sent shivers through him.

“Adora,” Catra said, his tone husky yet firm as he tried to ground her, to pull her attention fully to him. But her gaze flickered back, captivated by his glistening, wet length.

He loosened his grip on her hair, and she took the opportunity for one last lingering lick, slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of him. Her lips parted as she murmured, “You taste so good.”

Her words sent a jolt of electricity through him. He leaned down without hesitation, capturing her mouth in a searing kiss. Their lips moved against each other with frantic need, tongues tangling, breaths mingling. When they finally broke apart, both were gasping, their faces flushed with heat.

Adora didn’t wait. She took him into her mouth again, her tongue tracing every ridge, every curve with deliberate care, wetting him thoroughly. She pulled back briefly before settling into a steady rhythm, her movements confident and unrestrained.

Catra’s breath hitched as he watched her. The sight of Adora devouring him with such fervor made his heart pound. Her closed eyes, the way her lashes fluttered against her flushed cheeks, revealed how utterly lost she was in the moment. It was overwhelming, and he couldn’t help but lick his own lips, his body tensing in anticipation.

Sensing that he was close, Adora adjusted, quickening her pace. She picked up speed, her hands steadying his hips as her mouth worked him with relentless precision. Catra’s hand tangled in her hair, his grip tightening as he let out a ragged groan. “Fuck, Adora,” he gasped, his voice strained and heavy. “I’m about to cum.”

She had only a moment to react, but she knew exactly what to do. Her lips sealed around him with a sudden, intense suction, her cheeks hollowing as she created a perfect vacuum. The sensation was enough to drive him over the edge.

Catra’s head fell back, his eyes rolling as a guttural “Fuck!” escaped him. His release came in a rush, his entire body trembling as he spilled into her mouth with a loud, shuddering gasp of pleasure.

Adora didn’t falter. She swallowed every drop, savoring the taste of him, her tongue darting out to collect the remnants before she pulled away. Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath, her lips slightly swollen and glistening.

Looking up at Catra, her eyes sparkled with a mix of satisfaction and triumph. A smirk curled at her lips, and she tilted her head, her voice low and teasing. “I think it's my turn now.”

Catra chuckled, his body still recovering from the intensity, but his gaze remained locked on her. “You’re unbelievable, put your face in the pillow and put your ass up ” he murmured, his voice dripping with admiration and desire.

The energy between them was palpable, charged with an intimacy so intense it spoke volumes, far beyond the need for words.

Adora followed his lead as they shifted and repositioned themselves. But then Catra stilled, his gaze dropping to her glistening folds. A quiet curse escaped his lips, the restraint in his voice barely masking his overwhelming desire. “Shit,” he murmured, biting his lower lip as his eyes lingered, dark with hunger. “This is the wrong position,” he admitted, his voice low and gravelly.

He ran a gentle finger through her wetness, his touch slow and deliberate as he traced her slick heat. The way she trembled beneath his hand sent a jolt of electricity through him. He swallowed hard, his chest rising and falling heavily. “I need to control myself,” he said, his tone strained but steady. “Turn around. Lay on your back.”

Adora obeyed without hesitation, shifting onto her back and spreading her legs for him. The vulnerability of her position, paired with the trust in her gaze, made his chest tighten. She tilted her head, her voice soft but teasing as she asked, “Is this better?”

Catra’s eyes met hers, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. The sight of her laid bare, open and inviting, was almost too much to handle. He reached out, his hand tracing the curve of her thigh before resting just below her hip. “Perfect,” he finally rasped, his voice thick with both affection and need.

The tension between them grew, the unspoken connection deepening with every passing second. His hand lingered, his touch light yet purposeful, as though savoring every inch of her. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, the honesty in his tone making her heart skip a beat.

He positioned himself between her legs, her thighs resting comfortably on his shoulders. Taking a calm, measured breath, she watched as he spit onto her folds, the glistening wetness intensifying the anticipation. Slowly, he descended along her thick thighs, his lips, tongue, and teeth working in tandem. He kissed and sucked, leaving a deliberate trail of small, tender marks, each one a testament to his desire.

When he reached the sensitive inner thighs closest to her center, he bit down hard, the sharpness sending a jolt of pain laced with pleasure through her body. A small trickle of blood beaded at the spot, and he didn’t hesitate to drink it, his moan reverberating against her skin.

“Uhhh, fuck,” Adora gasped, her body trembling uncontrollably as she instinctively tried to close her legs while gripping his hair. Her fingers tightened, the sharp tug sending shivers down his spine. Unable to contain herself, she threw her head back into the pillow, lost in the overwhelming sensations coursing through her.

Catra continued to feast on her, his hunger insatiable. Only when he had his fill did he release her, the wet sound of his tongue leaving her skin making her quiver. He licked the mark he’d made, his rough, raspy tongue soothing the ache as he trailed soft, reverent kisses over the spot.

Then, as if savoring every second, he traced his tongue around her center, purposefully avoiding the most sensitive part. Slowly, he parted her slick folds, the wetness pooling between them like a forbidden nectar. He paused, his breath hot and heavy against her.

With deliberate slowness, he leaned closer, inhaling her scent deeply, the primal intensity in his eyes making her heart race.

Adora pulled his hair, tugging him closer with a desperate need that left no room for hesitation. He sank lower, parting her folds with precision and latching onto her core. The flick of his tongue was relentless, his desire fully unleashed as he set a steady, unforgiving rhythm.

“Uhhhh, fuck,” Adora moaned, her voice trembling as her legs instinctively tried to clamp shut against the overwhelming sensations. But Catra’s clawed hands wrapped firmly around her thighs, his sharp nails digging into her flesh as he harshly pulled them apart, locking her in place.

“Don’t even try,” he growled against her, his voice a mix of warning and dark amusement.

“Fuck, Cat, too much,” she gasped, throwing her head back into the mattress as her body writhed beneath him. Her back arched, twisting in pleasure as her legs trembled uncontrollably. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, her toes curling tight as if trying to anchor herself to reality. A high-pitched, breathless gasp escaped her lips.

“Cat,” she whimpered, her voice breaking as her body began to shake violently, each wave of sensation building on the last. “I can’t—” she stammered, her breath hitching as wetness started to pool and pour from her. Her head thrashed against the pillow. “Stop, Cat, please—stop!”

But Catra wasn’t letting go. His tongue flicked viciously, every motion calculated to send her spiraling further out of control. Even as she tugged at his hair in desperation, her body locked him in place. “ Cat stop” she says as her legs  begin to viciously tremble. She held him in place, he tried  to pull back but her hands held him in place.  

He finally managed to pull back just enough to speak, his lips glistening with her slick as he gazed up at her with a smug grin. “Adora, I can’t pull back, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly.

She loosened her grip on his head, allowing him a moment to rise. He watched her panting heavily, her chest heaving with the effort to catch her breath. Her flushed face turned toward him, her lips trembling as she tried to form words.

“What’s wrong?” he teased, his voice soft yet laced with knowing confidence.

She opened her eyes, locking onto his face, and the sight made her bite her lip. His chin and lips were slick, dripping with the evidence of her unraveling. Her embarrassment bubbled to the surface as she threw her head back into the pillow.

“I—I thought…  I was going to pee,” she admitted shyly, her voice barely above a whisper.

Catra chuckled darkly, his grin widening. “No, you weren’t,” he said, his tone playful yet assured.

Adora shook her head slowly, still trying to ground herself. “Yes, I was,” she insisted, her voice trembling with residual shyness.

“Adora,” he said firmly, his eyes locking onto hers with an intensity that made her shiver. “No, you weren’t. You were about to cum. Now stop messing with my meal and shut up.”

Before she could protest, he dove back in, his mouth reclaiming her center with renewed determination. His tongue moved with relentless precision, picking up right where he had left off, driving her body to the brink once more.

He sucked her bud harshly, his lips creating a powerful vacuum while his tongue rasped over the sensitive tip with relentless speed and precision. The flicks of his tongue and the pull of his mouth sent shockwaves through her, each one deeper and more consuming than the last. Her juices began to pour freely, and he gripped her tighter as her legs started to tremble uncontrollably. Her toes curled, and her moans grew louder, filling the room with raw, unrestrained need.

Adora's fingers clawed at the sheets, gripping them so hard she could hear the fabric ripping under her strength. Her back arched off the bed, her chest rising with a sharp, desperate gasp. “Ahhhhh, mmmmmm, fuck!” she cried out, her voice breaking as she teetered on the edge of control.

The sensations overwhelmed her. Her body began to hum, every nerve firing in sync, sending jolts of electricity through her. She felt the world tilt, her mind becoming light-headed and distant as if she were floating. She couldn’t find her breath to speak, the sheer intensity of the moment rendering her voiceless. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, the overwhelming pleasure pushing her further than she’d ever gone before.

That familiar pressure began to build again, sharper and more insistent this time. She tried to gasp out a warning, but her voice wouldn’t form the words. Instead, only broken screams and breathless moans escaped her lips. Desperation took over as her hands released the shredded sheets, seeking something stronger to anchor her.

Her fingers found his hair, gripping it hard and pulling without mercy. He grunted against her, but it only spurred him on, his resolve unshaken. Her hips bucked against his mouth, her body moving on its own as if chasing the release she knew was near. The heat inside her built rapidly, climbing higher and higher until it became unbearable.

Then, her body surrendered. The white-hot release started in her toes, surging upward in waves that consumed her entirely. Catra’s claws dug into her thighs, holding her in place as she fell apart completely. Her voice cracked into a scream, a final raw expression of ecstasy, before everything dissolved into blissful silence.

The last sound she heard was her own ragged breath, echoing in her ears as her body went limp beneath him.

Her body lay limp, utterly spent. He pushed himself off her, pausing to place a deliberate kiss right on her clit. His tongue flicked just right, igniting a small, broken sound from her lips.

“Mmm,” Adora moaned softly, the overstimulation coursing through her in waves. Her limbs felt like lead, yet her mind was filled with an overwhelming sense of peace. She had never experienced this kind of tranquility, her body slumped heavily into the mattress, completely at ease.

He released her legs, letting them drop like dead weight, and crawled up her body, his face glistening with her slick. As he hovered over her, he leaned down to kiss her lips, the taste of her still lingering between them.

“You taste sweet as fuck, Adora,” he murmured, his voice rough yet soft with affection. He licked her lips, then his own, savoring her. A devilish smirk danced on his face. “I think we should call it a night, or I’m going to end up fucking you.”

Catra’s words were teasing, but the heat behind them was undeniable as he pressed kisses to her lips, her cheeks, and the curve of her neck.

“Mmmhmm,” was all Adora could manage, her voice a soft hum, her body too drained to respond with more. Sleep was calling her name, tugging her deeper with every passing second. She had never felt this exhausted in her life, but it was a kind of exhaustion she welcomed.

Catra chuckled softly at her state, his laugh a low rumble that vibrated through the room. He reluctantly moved off the bed, disappearing into the bathroom. Moments later, she heard the sound of water running.

He returned with a warm, damp rag in hand. Without a word, he began to gently wipe down her body, his touch soft and careful, a quiet tenderness in every motion. The cloth was cool yet comforting against her heated skin, grounding her as she drifted closer to sleep.

As her eyes fluttered shut, she heard him murmur something under his breath. His voice was barely above a whisper, but it reached her ears with clarity.

“Beautiful... I can’t wait until you’re all mine,” he said, his words lingering in the air, a promise laced with unspoken desire.

He continued to wipe her down with the rag, his motions slow and reverent, as if memorizing every curve of her. The combination of his touch and the soothing rhythm of his breathing pulled her further into the comforting abyss of sleep.

– 

 present 

Ranger stood with Carter, their conversation interrupted as Carter pointed toward the not-so-distant horizon. Reluctantly, Ranger followed his gesture and spotted Catra and Adora locked in a heated kissing embrace.

“Uhhh, fuck no,” Ranger groaned, dragging his hand down his face in frustration.

Carter chuckled, clearly amused by Ranger’s dismay. “I told you not to push. Now you’ve forced them apart, and they’re desperate to squeeze every last second out of their time together.”

Ranger rolled his eyes, turning away to avoid looking any longer. “How long is this gonna last?”

From the side, Frapta responded without missing a beat. “Quite a while, actually. They might even end up together for a very long time. Their bond is undeniable. Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s already deepened into something more.”

Ranger sighed heavily. “Are you guys all packed?” he asked, shifting the subject.

Hordak nodded firmly. “Yes, sir. We’ll be heading back to the lab to catch up on the tasks we’ve fallen behind on since being here.”

“Good.” Ranger nodded, then turned to Carter. “Thanks for hosting us, and sorry for being in your hair this long.”

Carter chuckled, clapping Ranger on the back with enough force to make him stumble slightly. “It’s fine. Just don’t come back,” he teased before walking off, waving over his shoulder.

A sharp whistle cut through the air, drawing Adora and Catra out of their embrace. They broke apart reluctantly, the heat of their connection still lingering.

“Okay, so I guess I’ll call, or… I don’t know…” Adora started, her tone uncertain but warm.

Catra laughed softly, his usual confidence faltering just enough for a light blush to creep up his face. He glanced away awkwardly before speaking. “Relax. I know how to be a good…” He paused, swallowing as if the words were foreign to him. “A good boyfriend.”

Adora gasped, her cheeks flushing as a radiant smile lit up her face. Without hesitation, she jumped on him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck and kissing him deeply.

“Okay, I trust you,” she said, her voice overflowing with pure joy. “You’re so cute, Cat.”

Catra groaned, shoving her playfully but gently. “I’m not cute,” he muttered, his expression flustered.

Adora just chuckled, her laughter soft and affectionate. She leaned in to kiss him softly, her smile unwavering. “Sure, you’re not,” she teased.

Meanwhile, Ranger waited patiently in the car. Eventually, Adora returned, sliding into the passenger seat with a small sigh. For a moment, they sat in silence, watching as the van carrying Frapta and Hordak pulled away into the distance.

“All good?” Ranger asked after a beat, his voice calm but probing.

Adora rolled her eyes and leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, everything’s fine, Dad,” she said with a hint of sarcasm.

Ranger nodded, his gaze steady. “Anything you want to tell me?” he asked softly, his tone open and nonjudgmental.

“Nope,” Adora replied quickly, cutting off any further inquiry.

Another moment passed before Ranger started the car. The low hum of the engine broke the silence as they began the long drive home, the weight of unspoken words lingering between them.

Chapter Text

The sound of small amounts of dirt and dust from the road hitting the window echoes through the car, each impact igniting a memory—a ghost of sensation—of how Catra had his hands on me. The way he grabbed my neck, his smooth but rough fingers grazing my chin, angling me toward him, coaxing me to take him in my mouth. How wet and dry my mouth had been all at once…

The car jolts over a small bump, snapping me back to the present—I am in my father’s car, heading home. But I feel like my skin is on fire, an itch I can’t scratch, something crawling beneath the surface, just out of reach. The farther we drive from the camp, the more unbearable it becomes.

The low hum of the engine thrums through my body, each vibration teasing the edge of my consciousness. The sensation is maddening. I feel both anger and arousal, intertwined so tightly that it makes me shift uncomfortably in my seat. My fingers rake through my hair, then drag down my face, over my nose, before I bite down hard on one. The sharp sting keeps me grounded, but as the taste of blood graces my tongue, it pulls me back—back to Catra, back to the taste of him on my lips.

His scent still lingers in my blood—wild, electric, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. I can see his eyes in my mind, the way they almost glowed as he looked at me, as if he could see straight through my skin to the fire raging underneath. I shift in my seat again, my body aching with something deeper than just the memory of his touch. It’s a hunger, a slow burn that crawls up my spine and settles in the marrow of my bones.

Ranger grips the steering wheel tightly, his knuckles whitening as he exhales sharply. Something about Adora’s silence unsettles him—there’s an energy rolling off her, simmering, restless. He breathes in deeply, steadying himself before breaking the thick silence.

"Adora."

She doesn’t respond.

"Adora," he repeats, his voice firmer.

"Adora!" His voice snaps, jolting me out of my thoughts.

I snap my head toward Ranger, my spiraling thoughts momentarily disrupted. I glare at him, jaw tight.

Ranger sighs. "Adora, I know we didn’t have the best conversation earlier, but please, just know I’m trying to do what’s best for you. That camp—Hillmont—is not the best place for you."

I roll my eyes, turning back toward the window, watching the sky shift into soft hues of twilight. Of course, it’s not the right place. Of course, the moment I start to feel comfortable, start to find myself—start to find someone I care about—it becomes the wrong place.

I steal a glance at him and roll my eyes again.

He doesn’t look at me, but I can feel the weight of his words pressing against me. "You sure you don’t want to talk?"

I scoff, forcing a smirk as I sink deeper into my seat. "About what? That I finally got what I wanted? Oh, wait—no. Because what I actually want doesn’t matter. Only what you want, right?"

His grip on the wheel tightens. "No… I just—" He exhales sharply, frustrated. "I don’t want you getting hurt. And I feel like every five fucking seconds, you’re getting hurt, and it has something to do with him—Catra." Ranger rubs his face quickly, then lowers his voice. "And now you’re acting like a completely different person. You’ve never talked to me like this. Never acted this way, Adora."

I arch a brow, tilting my head back as I resist the urge to rip my hair out. "Oh, please..." I pause, then follow through. "Ranger, do I look hurt to you? I was just finding myself, and now you’re mad because I also like the person who was training me? That we were getting along? You’re just pissed because it’s not you who can help me, right?"

His jaw twitches, but he doesn’t argue. Because he knows I’m not far from the truth. He wants to deny it, but he can’t.

I sigh. "I am anything but hurt. I am alive—more alive than I have felt in a long time. Actually, this is the best I’ve ever felt in my life." I say it without hesitation. He just looks at me out of the corner of his eye before forcing his gaze back on the road. I huff and think to myself: My body still hums with it, still sings with the ghost of Catra’s touch, and I know—I know—that this is only the beginning.

But then, I remember his words.

Even though I’m mad at my father, I can’t ignore the reality of my situation. Technically, Catra’s my boyfriend now. And now, I have to figure out how to please an alpha werewolf whose ex-girlfriend is the hottest person I’ve ever seen. They both clearly had the kind of sexual stamina and desire for each other that I just... don’t have. And fuck. I’m a virgin.

I sink lower into my seat because now this is all I can think about. I don’t even really hear what my dad says next.

"I am your father, Adora," Ranger says, his voice strained and low. "And I don’t want you to… get involved with him. We have much bigger things to do than for you to be hung up on a damn werewolf."

I roll my eyes. His words fall on deaf ears as my mind spirals back to Catra. Because what the fuck else am I supposed to think about? My first boyfriend is the hottest piece of ass to walk the earth, and I just performed my first sexual act—and now I have to leave?

But I’m left with the thought of what I could be doing right now. Tonight. Tomorrow. What if I was still there? I think about how big he is, how soft his lips are, how he tastes...

I shift from frustration into an insatiable hunger. But this hunger can’t be satisfied with stolen kisses in the dark. Not when I’m miles away. Not when the need for him is this deep, this primal. It’s something that will only be quenched when there is nothing left between us but the raw, unfiltered truth of what we are and what we want.

And God, I want to. I want him in a way that terrifies me. 

—

Hours later,

The sky is darker but just before full night fall, 

Dads pull into the driveway and I think I just need to get into my room  desperately. 

The second the car pulls into the driveway, I don’t wait. I burst from the car at break-neck speed, bolting toward the house, my breath ragged with frustration, desire, and something else—something tangled so deeply into my very essence that I can’t begin to decipher it. The front door slams behind me as I take the stairs two at a time, ignoring the startled voices of my family as I vanish into my room, the lock clicking shut behind me.

Downstairs, the house falls into stunned silence. My sister Mara, my brother Adam, and of course, my mother, May, all exchange glances, unsure of what just happened. May sighs, already having suspected this storm was brewing long before our return. She leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, watching as Ranger unloads the bags from the trunk. He moves with the exhaustion of a man who’s been carrying something much heavier than just luggage.

When he finally turns, his gaze meets May’s. A soft smile tugs at the corners of his lips, though it’s weighted with disappointment. Slowly, he walks to the front door, stopping just before her. She doesn’t move, doesn’t scold. Instead, she lets him lean in, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to her lips. A smile flickers across hers in response before she pulls back slightly and murmurs, “I thought I told you to make up with her last night.”

Ranger exhales, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wanted to. But I just… needed time.” His voice is raw, hesitant. “She’s like a new person right now, May. With the powers, with whatever this thing is between her and him—I… I need more time.” He stutters over his words, uncertain, and May only rolls her eyes.

“Well, waiting got you this.” She gestures toward the house, where the echoes of my hasty retreat still linger in the air.

Ranger fully steps inside now, placing the bags down with a heavy sigh. He turns to her, continuing, “She was mad when we left, but the further we got, the meaner she became. More defensive, more closed-off. I documented it, ill try and call traps later today, but I…” He pauses, his eyes flicking toward the staircase. “I can’t tell if she’s faking it or if she really needs to be closer to him.”

May sighs and steps forward, resting her head on his shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll figure it out. She’s young and in love. And whatever power is in her… it’s probably adding to her emotional changes. Give her a moment. Then we’ll both go talk to her, okay?”

Ranger nods, exhaling slowly, trying to shake off the weight pressing on him. 

Upstairs, behind a locked door, I am anything but calm.

I pull off my clothing, my skin hot and sweaty, crawling with an unbearable sensation. The heat is suffocating. The moment I crack the window open, desperate for relief, the wind howls like a storm, whipping against the glass, rattling it in its frame.

The sound crashes into my ears like a whirlwind, deafening. I roll onto the floor, half-naked, pressing my hands over my ears, trying to block it out. The noise grows, intensifies—high-pitched, screaming.

The glass on my window begins to crack.

And then, I hear the voice.

Aluna.

I call her name once. Then again. A third time. My breath is ragged, my chest rising and falling too quickly as I force my eyes open—and she’s there.

The sweet woman I met in my mind, the one who whispered to me like a lover, like a secret. But she is not sweet now. She is enraged.

Her face twists, livid, beautiful in its fury.

“Why are we so far from him?” she seethes. “We were so close. Almost fully merged. And you run? You flee to the farthest place possible?”

She moves toward me, and I flinch—hard. The heat of her presence alone is unbearable. It’s like pure fire, licking at my skin, searing me from the inside out. The air is thick, heavy. My lungs won’t expand. My body won’t move.

I choke, gasping, my skin turning red, my veins rising to the surface. I can see them in the mirror—blue and pulsing, the outline of them stark against the heat flooding my body. My reflection looks like it’s suffocating.

“Please stop,” I whisper, but my voice is barely there, barely a breath.

The world begins to go hazy.

“Please, Aluna,” I try again, louder this time.

Then—a knock at my door.

The pressure vanishes instantly. I collapse onto my stomach, sucking in air, wheezing. My limbs shake as I force myself up, crawling toward my discarded shirt. I fumble for it, dragging it over my head, my fingers barely working.

I push myself up to stand, my knees nearly buckling as I grab onto my desk for balance. My reflection catches my eye in the mirror—and she’s still there.

Aluna stands in the corner, fuming.

And I—

I look like I’ve been dipped in fire, my skin flushed pink-red, my lips swollen, my hair clinging to the sweat on my neck.

Knock. Knock.

The door again.

I inhale sharply, steadying myself. “Coming,” I manage, forcing my voice to sound normal. I open the door, leaning heavily against the frame because it still hurts to breathe.

It’s my mom.

“Hey, sweetie,” she says softly. “I was wondering if we could talk. Just you and me. Or me, you, and your dad.”

“No,” I say immediately.

She sighs. “Adora, honey, please. I just want to understand what happened up there.”

I shake my head, then force the words out. “Not now, Mom. I just don’t want to talk. And I’d really appreciate it if you—and that man who’s supposed to be my father—could understand that.”

May’s face tightens, but I don’t stop. The words spill from me, sharp and final.

“Once I’m eighteen, I hope I can make my point more clearly through my actions. Because I don’t understand why I need to talk when I don’t want to. I said no. So that answer is no. Please drop it. I’ll see you in the morning.”

Then I shut the door.

Downstairs, May stands in stunned silence, processing Adora’s outburst. But she isn’t entirely shocked—not after what Ranger told her.

At the bottom of the stairs, Ranger just stands there, arms crossed. “See?” he mutters. “I told you. She’s different.”

May rolls her eyes. “She’s mad. And we need to give her space.”

“She’s almost eighteen,” she continues. “And I don’t want a boy to be the reason I lose my daughter.”

Ranger opens his mouth to argue, but May levels him with a look, her gaze sharp, unwavering. “Really?” challenging me. “Because I’ll tell you right now—I don’t want our good relationship with our kids to fade over their love choices, let alone their first love. Our daughter has shown interest in someone for the first time. I don’t want to always be the one dragging her back. And every time we push—” she exhales sharply, shaking her head, “—we risk losing her. I don’t want that.”

She steps closer, resting a gentle hand on his cheek, voice softening. “Just let her breathe, Ranger. We’ll figure it out tomorrow. Let it go.”

A Warning from Within

I shut the door and slide down the door frame to sit on the floor, taking in heavy breaths. I look at Aurora and say, “I’m sorry, but it’s not my fault. I told him I didn’t want to leave, and I tried to stall for another day, but I couldn’t. My father was adamant about leaving.”

She steps closer, her presence ice-cold despite the fire in her voice. “You have twenty-one days, Adora.” Her voice is both calm and deadly. “When the blood moon rises, we will become one. You need to be near him, or I will boil your body from the inside out to find him.”

Then, just as quickly as she came, she is gone. The wind dies, the silence thick and suffocating in its wake.

I blink, still shaking, then roll onto my back, staring at the ceiling.

“Well, damn,” I mutter.

Then I groan and cover my face with my hands. “What a way to stop someone from masturbating.”

Back in Halfmoon.

“Squad One, do not shoot the target. We are to capture and detain. Do you copy?”

The command crackles over the radios of the flake squads—werewolves half-shifted, their senses heightened. The air is thick with tension.

Over the comms, a voice responds, frantic. “I think I see him, sir… but he doesn’t look like what you said. He’s fully shifted, sir. Squad Three and Two, back up.”

Static hums, followed by another voice, shaking with unease. “Target has eyes on me, sir. I can’t engage. I repeat, I can’t engage. He’s fully looking at me, sir—”

Then, the line goes dead.

A screeching noise bursts through the radios, followed by the sickening sound of bone tearing, flesh splitting. The wet crunch echoes in the silence.

Carter grabs the radio, his heart hammering. “All flake squads, retreat. I repeat, everyone fall back to base now. Do not engage. Leave the territory immediately.”

A chorus of confirmations follows. “Copy, sir. Heading to base.”

Carter exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before throwing the radio across the room, his chest heaving. “Fuck!”

His mind reels, replaying the moments before everything spiraled into chaos.

“Where’s your brother?” Carter asked Crux earlier that evening.

“In the shed,” Crux had replied. “Said he had a migraine. Looked a bit off.”

Carter nodded, walking toward the heavy doors of the shed, the place where they locked up wolves who couldn’t control themselves. His stomach twisted with unease.

“Catra?”

A growl. A deep, guttural sound echoed from the darkness inside.

Carter stepped in further, heart pounding as he saw chains on the ground. Then—

A cracking noise. The unmistakable sound of bones breaking, reforming against their will.

“I didn’t make her leave!” Catra’s voice was hoarse, desperate. “I swear—it was her father. She felt safe. Ahh—please, stop. I-Shadow, stop! Let me explain—”

Another sharp, wet snap. A strangled cry.

Carter rushed forward, finding Catra collapsed in the corner. A massive shadow loomed over him, shifting in the dim light. The darkness pulsed, alive, coiling around Catra’s shaking form. Blood dripped from his lips. His K9s pushed forward, his body contorting, breaking against itself.

“Catra!” Carter grabbed him by the shoulders. “Son, what do you need? Tell me—”

Catra’s eyes glazed over, his skin burning hot. He tilted his head back, panting.

“Run.”

Blood spilled from his mouth. His claws sunk into Carter’s arm.

“Remove everyone from the area,” Catra rasped, his voice warping between human and beast. Another bone snapped as his transformation continued. “Bring Adora.”

Then—

A force, unseen and violent, threw Carter through the shed wall. The wood exploded outward, sending debris flying. He hit the ground hard, gasping, the wind knocked from his lungs.

Catra’s screams filled the night.

Carter staggered to his feet as Crux ran over. “What happened?”

Before he could answer, Crux turned toward the shed, about to rush forward.

Carter caught him by the arm. “No! We need to clear the camp—now.”

Panic spread like wildfire. Carter and Crux moved frantically, forcing everyone back inside the dorms.

“Move!” Carter bellowed. “Everyone inside—now!”

Crux grabbed the security teams. “Get every single person to their rooms. No exceptions.”

The wolves hesitated, instincts conflicted. One squad leader snapped, “Move your fucking furry asses and get inside!”

Reluctantly, the dorms locked down. The camp fell into eerie silence, all the flake squads returning to where Carter and Crux stood.

Crux turned back to his father. “What now?”

Carter didn’t respond. His eyes were locked on the remains of the shed, where the dust was beginning to settle.

Then—

Silence.

“Dad?” Crux whispered, his voice tight.

Carter exhaled. “Your brother’s done screaming.”

Everyone froze.

They knew what that meant.

Carter turned to the others, but before he could speak, he grabbed Crux and slammed him to the ground. There stood Catra, his form twisted—half-wolf, half-man, heavy shadows curling around him, his blue and gold eyes glowing through the fog.

Carter slowly stood, his voice low, commanding. “Slowly… back away, everyone.”

They listened, inching backward. Carter yanked Crux to his feet and whispered, “Run. Get to the command center.”

The shadows inside the wreckage of the shed shifted, tendrils slithering through the air. A deep, menacing growl rumbled through the space.

Carter swallowed hard. “Crux, call fucking Ranger. Now.”

Crux nodded and took off running, shifting mid-stride to pick up speed.

Catra’s POV

The moment I stepped into the shed, the shadows moved.

I could feel them before I could see them—watching, waiting, shifting in the corners of my vision. My head pounded. The smells around me were suffocating, thick, wrong.

“I need to lay down,” I muttered to Crux before shutting the door behind me.

But the moment I was alone, the darkness struck.

Tendrils of pure night coiled around me, shoving me to the floor. The weight of them pressed into my chest, squeezing the air from my lungs.

“Where is she?”

The voice was ancient, slithering through my mind.

Then—the first strike.

Agony tore through me as the force lifted me, slammed me back down. My ribs cracked. My body convulsed.

“Where is she?”

I gasped, trying to speak. The pain was unbearable.

Another hit—my arm snapped.

“She was here.” The voice was venomous, creeping into my skull. “Then she left.”

More pain. More breaking. My vision blurred as I coughed up blood.

The presence shifted, tightening its hold. “Where is Aluna?”

I blinked. “Who?”

The darkness didn’t answer. It just pressed harder. My ribs cracked further. The weight crushed me, stealing my breath, my control, my sanity.

I thought of her. Adora.

The wind in her hair. Her scent wrapped around me. Her heat against my skin.

The voice slithered through my mind one last time.

“Mines look and move with the wind. What does yours do?”

And then—the final snap. My body twisted violently, forcing the shift.

Claws ripped through my flesh, bones breaking and reforming. My breath turned to snarls, my control ripped away.

Through the haze of my mind, I growled out my last conscious thought:

“Bring Adora.”

Chapter Text

Crux runs hard and heavy, his breath ragged as he barrels through the center. The assistants turn, startled by his sudden entrance, but he doesn’t have time to explain. He sprints down the hallway, the overhead lights flickering on one by one as he charges forward. His pulse pounds in his ears. He reaches the back door, punching in the code—

Wrong.

Before he can correct it, a shadow moves. A figure steps into his path.

Command Leader Wolf.

The man halts Crux in his tracks, his voice firm.

“Whoa, whoa, kid. Slow down. What’s wrong? You typed the code wrong, but I saw it was you—what the hell is going on?”

Crux exhales sharply, his chest rising and falling as he tries to steady himself. “My dad told me to call Ranger Gray—the vampire. I thought he’d have the number saved in his phone, but when I checked, it wasn’t there. This is the only place I know that would have it.”

Wolf’s expression darkens as he studies Crux. “Okay… so why are you rushing? What’s happening?”

Crux’s frustration explodes. “What the fuck are you talking about?! Are you not looking at the security feeds?! My brother—he’s—” He struggles for the right words, his heart hammering. “Something is wrong. He’s acting… I don’t know. Not right. We need to fucking call the Grays back now.”

Wolf exhales, rubbing a hand down his face as he starts walking—slowly—toward the command center. Too slow.

“Look, I’m sure whatever the problem is, we can fix it. We don’t need those fucking vampires here any longer than they already were. They’re—”

Crux snaps.

“I don’t give a flying fuck how you feel about them. My brother is in trouble. I need that vampire back here with his team of scientists, and if you were doing your goddamn job, you’d already know what the fuck is happening. But clearly, I’ll have to tell my father we’ve got slackers down here.”

Wolf tenses, jaw tightening, but he doesn’t argue. Instead, he steps forward and unlocks the center.

The second the door opens—chaos erupts.

Frantic movement. Voices shouting. The sound of systems failing.

Wolf steps inside and booms over the commotion, “Ladies and gentlemen, what the fuck is happening?!”

A woman whirls toward him, her face pale, her voice clipped with urgency. “Sir, we just lost power. There was an attack on the grid.” She hesitates, then notices Crux, straightens, and bows slightly. “Sir… your brother knocked it out. The whole camp is down. And—” she swallows. “Sir… he’s gone hazed. Uncontrollable. Right before the feed cut, it looked like Carter was heading this way.”

The words barely leave her lips before—

The doors burst open.

The entire room stills.

Every single wolf stands and bows.

Carter steps inside.

His shirt is shredded, his wounds still closing, his breath measured but sharp. He walks to the center, his eyes burning with an intensity that silences the room.

Then, in a voice like a war drum, he speaks:

“Listen up, wolves. We are on red alert.”

The tension is suffocating. Carter takes a slow breath, his gaze flicking to Crux, then back to the pack.

“My son—Catra—has shifted.”

A beat.

“Into something I don’t fucking recognize.”

Silence.

“He’s ten times stronger. More aggressive. More rageful. We don’t know if he’s aware of what he’s doing or if it’s subconscious. The only objective—sedate him, contain him, and get in contact with the Gray Family.”

His voice hardens.

“I want every flank squad ready. Tranquilizers loaded. Full gear. Treat him as an enemy until we secure him.

Am I clear?”

A thunderous roar shakes the room—

“SIR, YES SIR!”

The hunt is on.

Present Time.

“Squad One, do not shoot the target. We are to capture and detain. Do you copy?”

The command crackles over the radios of the Flake Squads—werewolves, half-shifted, senses razor-sharp. The air is thick with tension.

Over the comms, a voice responds, frantic.

“I think I see him, sir… but he doesn’t look like what you said. He’s fully shifted, sir. Squad Three and Two, fall back—”

Static hums, followed by another voice, shaking with unease.

“Target has eyes on me, sir. I can’t engage. I repeat, I can’t engage. He’s… he’s staring right at me, sir—”

Then—

Silence.

A screeching noise rips through the radio, followed by the sickening sound of bones cracking, flesh tearing. The wet crunch echoes in the stillness.

Carter lunges for the radio, his heart pounding.

“All Flake Squads, retreat! I repeat, everyone fall back to base NOW. Do not engage. Leave the territory immediately!”

A chorus of confirmations crackles through.

“Copy, sir. Heading to base.”

Carter exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair before hurling the radio across the room. It slams into the wall with a metallic crack.

“Fuck!”

His mind spins, replaying the moments before everything spiraled into chaos.

A soldier steps up behind him, eyes grim.

“Sir, that’s the fourth man your son has taken. We can’t confirm if they’re dead or just unconscious. He’s still sharp enough to knock out body suit cams and sound trackers, keeping us blind. With the grid down and us scrambling to get the generators up in each dorm, we won’t have full power until morning. And, sir—” the soldier hesitates, voice low, “as the night stretches on, we’re going to lose more men and women. That’s my report.”

Carter sits down, inhaling deeply, his jaw clenched tight. A long pause.

Then—

“Thank you, Lotty. Bring my youngest to me. Tell him to meet me in Center Room 11-9B. Now.”

Lotty nods and vanishes into the halls.

Minutes Later

The door swings open.

Crux steps inside, tense. “What’s up, Dad?”

Carter doesn’t answer. Instead, he crosses the room, grabs his son, and pulls him into a firm hug, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

Crux stiffens, then pushes his father back.

“Dad—what’s wrong?”

Carter sighs, his face barely masking his concern. He swallows hard.

“I have to go get your brother… and put him down.”

Crux snaps his head back, his eyes wide in disbelief.

“What?! No—Dad, we can capture him! If we can’t, we wait it out—don’t be crazy—”

Carter cuts him off.

“Crux—five men are down. We have a camp full of kids. We have no power. No water. And food is going to spoil if we can’t get the grid up and running. Catra is still conscious enough to sabotage us. He’s taking out critical infrastructure—on purpose.

“I have to think about everyone, Crux. This is only going to get worse.”

Crux’s fists clench. “Stop with the excuses!” He steps forward, eyes blazing. “There’s someone who can stop him. Uncle Marciel. He’s stronger than you, Dad, and if not him—we bring back Adora.”

Carter’s head jerks up. “What?”

Crux takes a step closer. “I’ll go get her. I think this is happening because she’s too far from him. He’s trying to find her, Dad. But once he realizes she’s not coming back, he’s going to start tracking her.

“Let me go. I can get her. I’ll bring her to him.”

Carter shakes his head. “Crux, Ranger won’t let her anywhere near him now. Do you see what your brother has become?”

Crux’s voice breaks with frustration.

“Dad, please. I know everyone sees Catra as the Alpha of Alphas, the leader, the one everyone follows. And me? Just the little brother. The kid.

“But I have the same blood he does. I am his brother. I can do this. I’ll shift and make my way there.”

Carter stares at his son for a long, painful moment—then pulls him into a tight embrace.

Then, quietly, “Fine. If you’re going… take a Flake Squad. They should be back by now.”

The War Room

Carter walks into the central chamber—where wolves, bloodied, dirt-covered, exhausted, stand at attention.

His voice booms across the room.

“Flake Squads One, Two, and Three—who has the most men still standing?”

A fully geared-up wolf steps forward.

“Flake Squad Three, sir. Full team intact.”

Carter nods sharply.

“Ready two caravans. You’ll be taking orders from Crux. He’s going to retrieve the vampires—you will cover him.”

A murmur ripples through the wolves, but no one questions it.

Carter gestures, and a woman steps forward, carrying a black case. She unlocks it, flipping the lid open. Inside—small, silver insignias, polished and gleaming.

“You will all wear these badges.”

The wolves step closer.

“This symbol will make you untouchable. It shields you from whatever forces might interfere as you exit Halfmoon.” Carter’s expression darkens.

“There’s only one way in and one way out. From what we understand—Catra isn’t near the roads. He’s choosing to stay in his hunting grounds, which means—”

Carter’s voice lowers.

“He’s feeding.”

A heavy silence suffocates the room.

“Once he’s done… we don’t know where he’ll go.”

Carter straightens, his voice sharp. “Load up. You leave in 15 minutes. Get ready—you move out in five.”

He turns to Crux and Aloe.

“Follow me.”

They step into a private chamber, and Carter closes the door behind them. His tone is low, final.

“Aloe—I don’t think I have to say this… but protect my son with everything you have.”

Aloe nods. “Yes, sir.”

Carter turns to Crux, eyes locked on his son’s.

“This—” he places a small sealed envelope into Crux’s hands, “—is what you’ll give to Ranger. If he still refuses—”

Carter’s jaw tightens.

“Crux. Focus all your sadness. Look Adora in the eyes. Make her feel it.”

Crux nods.

“She is the key. I’m being courteous to Ranger, but make no mistake—your mission is to bring her back. That is your primary objective.”

His voice drops to a whisper.

“Am I clear?”

Crux and Aloe both nod.

“Yes, sir.”

–  4 minutes behind schedule.

“We’re ready, sir,” Aloe says, his voice clipped with urgency. “We had to change a wheel, so we’re four minutes behind our fifteen-minute mark. We don’t have time for goodbyes, sir—we need to move.”

Crux turns to his father. Their eyes meet. No words are exchanged—there’s no time. But the weight of everything unsaid lingers between them.

Carter gives a firm nod. Crux returns it.

Then—he turns and leaves.

The Road to War

Outside, the Flake Squad forms a tight circle around Crux, moving in sync as they make their way to the trucks. The air is thick with tension, the scent of sweat, gasoline, and adrenaline filling their lungs.

The squad moves like clockwork—precision, experience, survival.

They load in.

Aloe gives a sharp glance to Boon and Mack. “Take the back. Hold steady.”

He turns to Keys and Blot. “Sit tight, hold the sides.”

Crux climbs into the middle row, Aloe settling in beside him.

The driver, Red—better known as Reddy— pulls his cap lower over his eyes, hands gripping the wheel.

“Rolling out.”

The truck rumbles to life, tires skidding slightly as it barrels forward, kicking up dust. They move fast, hard, focused.

The road is uneven, rough. Darkness presses in.

The sound of distant howls echoes through the night.

Then—

“Movement in the bushes.”

Boon’s voice comes through the comms, sharp, alert.

Mack reacts instantly—slamming his palm against the truck’s side.

Reddy hits the gas.

The truck lurches forward, hard and fast, tires spitting gravel.

“How we looking?” Aloe calls, eyes scanning.

Silence.

Keys and Blot exchange glances, eyes piercing through the dark.

Then—Keys speaks, voice low. “All clear on our end. Just get us off the road.”

“Copy,” is all Reddy says—

And then he floors it.

The truck tears through the dirt road, headlights cutting through the thick, oppressive night.

Behind them—

Something moves.

Fast. Too fast.

The hunt has begun.

—-\

The Dream—A Fractured Realm

Adora walks down a white path—the same endless expanse Aluna pulled her into last time. But now, it’s… wrong.

The space is fragmented, fractured like shattered glass barely holding itself together. Aluna sits alone in the endless white void, cold and unmoving.

As Adora approaches, a massive gap stretches between them—an endless abyss of pure, bottomless darkness.

Aluna whispers, her voice a fragile thread in the void.

“He’s so sad when I’m not around… so angry. He just lets his rage take him. I only wish I could take his pain away.”

Adora’s chest tightens. She looks at Aluna, determination anchoring her.

“I’ll find my way back, okay? Just hold on. It won’t feel like this once we’re done merging, right? Just… give me time.”

But when Aluna lifts her head—

Her galaxy-filled eyes have turned black.

And then—

Black sludge begins to pour from her mouth.

Her head twists violently, splitting open like cracked stone, releasing molten lava-like fluid that oozes down her face.

Her voice is a broken, choked whisper.

“This… this is what it feels like.”

Aluna starts crawling toward Adora, her movements jerky, unnatural.

“This… is what it feels like to be separated from him.”

The ground beneath them cracks.

Aluna’s eyes burn, seething with something unnatural.

“You made me feel this way again. And now… Solas is making him feel it.

He’s ripping Catra apart.

From the inside out.”

Aluna lunges, crawling over Adora’s body.

Adora screams as the black-red lava drips onto her skin, melting it away.

Aluna’s hands burn like pure fire, her fingers digging into Adora’s flesh like searing metal. Her skin feels like marshmallow under an open flame—bubbling, blistering, dissolving.

Then—

Aluna presses her fire-laced fingers against Adora’s forehead—

And she sees him.

Catra.

Tied down in shadows.

His ribs split open, flesh torn away like paper.

His skin peeled from his bones.

His legs twisted at unnatural angles, flesh hanging in ribbons.

A pool of blood—deep, dark, endless— spreads beneath his half-conscious body.

His fangs, both top and bottom, have been ripped through his lips. His mouth permanently split open in an agonizing display of pain.

His eyes—

They weep blood.

His life is draining, slipping, fading.

Adora thrashes, trying to push Aluna off, trying to run toward Catra—

But the moment she moves, the gap between them expands.

The abyss stretches into infinity.

Adora tries to jump—

Immediately, she is yanked back.

Wind-knots—**Aluna’s magic—**clamp around her feet like shackles.

She sobs.

“Please— let me get to him! Please, I’ll never leave him again! Please—”

She chokes on a sob, snot dripping from her nose.

“I beg you.”

She crawls back on her hands and knees, desperate, pleading.

“I’ll go back to him. I’ll stay. Just— tell him to stop.

He’s going to die.”

Aluna tilts her head. Tears slip down her cheeks.

She reaches out, fingers gliding over Adora’s wet face, her touch almost tender.

Then—

She leans in so close their lips nearly brush.

“Separation… means the death of the soul, not the body.

All that is dying… is his soul.

Just as ours did.”

Aluna’s breath is cold against Adora’s lips.

“His body… is simply reacting to its own destruction.”

Adora sobs. Her eyes burn with tears.

She sees Catra’s eyes dimming.

Sees his life slipping further and further away.

She clenches her fists.

“Please… please, I’ll go back. Just stop him.”

Darkness closes in.

Reality—Wake Up, Adora

“Adora, honey—wake up, sweetheart.”

May’s voice. Urgent. Shaking.

May’s hands grip Adora’s shoulders, shaking her.

“I need you to wake up.”

Behind her, Mara and Adam hover in the doorway, their eyes wide with fear.

“What’s happening, Mom? What’s wrong with her?” Adam asks, worry dripping from every word.

Mara doesn’t answer. Instead, she slaps him hard across the chest.

“Clearly, she doesn’t know. None of us do.”

“STOP IT!” May snaps. “Both of you—go downstairs. Now.”

Adora’s body seizes.

She is screaming, writhing, convulsing.

May climbs on top of her, pinning her down, hands gripping Adora’s face.

“Adora, baby, listen to me.”

May’s voice trembles.

“Stay with me. I need you to listen to my voice. I need you to wake up.

You are having a nightmare, baby. Wake up.”

The door slams open.

Ranger rushes in, carrying blood packs and water.

May whirls on him. Her eyes burn with rage.

“Are you trying to drown her in blood?! She can’t eat—just pour some water on her face!”

Before they can react—

Adora’s eyes snap open.

She lunges upright—gasping, screaming, shaking.

“I NEED TO GO. NOW!”

May grabs her, pulling her close, clutching her to her chest.

Adora thrashes, trying to push away, but her strength is barely working. The room spins. The air feels tight.

Everything is collapsing.

Just before the world caves into darkness—

A shadow moves in the corner.

Adora’s eyes flick toward her clock.

And there, standing in the dim light—watching, waiting—

Aluna.

Her lips part.

A whisper slithers through the room.

“Time’s running out.”

The large bay windows of the gray house stood open, revealing the vast expanse of the night sky above the quiet neighborhood. The cool night breeze drifted through, stirring the curtains. Inside, the living room was deceptively peaceful—cozy, warm, filled with touches of May’s careful design, making it feel more human than supernatural. It was a contrast to the chaos unfolding beyond its walls.

Ranger stood near the windows, his voice clipped and sharp as he spoke into the communicator. “We’re working on it. We just need more information. What the hell is happening in Halfmoon?”

But May wasn’t listening.

She sat on the couch, her arms wrapped tightly around Adora, cradling her like a child. Adora’s head lay on her mother’s lap, tears staining her cheeks. She hadn’t stopped crying since she woke up, her body trembling in silent sobs. May brushed her daughter’s hair gently, whispering reassurances, but nothing seemed to soothe her.

Across the room, Adam and Mara watched their little sister like hawks. Their gazes never left her.

May stole glances at them, her unease growing. Something wasn’t right.

Her eyes flicked to the clock—3:00 AM.

So much had happened in such a short time. Too much.

May swallowed hard, her mind replaying the words Adora had been screaming in her sleep:

“Please—let me get to him! Please, I’ll never leave him again! Please—”

She had choked on her sobs, gasping between frantic cries.

“I beg you.”

And then, the final, haunting words:

“I’ll go back to him. I’ll stay. Just—tell him to stop.

He’s going to die.”

May’s breath caught in her throat.

She carefully lifted Adora’s head, placing a pillow beneath it. Then she stood abruptly.

Without a second thought, she stormed toward Ranger, grabbing the phone from his hands.

“We need to go to Halfmoon.” Her voice was firm, urgent. “Now.”

Ranger’s brows knitted together. “Honey, look, I know this is—well, I don’t know what this is. But let’s hear what Traps has to say first, okay? Taking her back to her boyfriend isn’t the answ—”

May slapped him.

The crack of her palm against his face echoed through the house.

“Get your head out of your fucking ass, Ranger!” she snapped.

He stared at her, stunned.

“They’re bonded, and you separated them before they even had a chance to stabilize! You didn’t wait to see if that was the right thing to do or not.”

Ranger opened his mouth, but May wasn’t done.

“This might just be how Adora is reacting, but we have no idea what’s happening to that poor boy. Jesus, have you forgotten how we got together? Our people weren’t happy about us, but they knew things were going to happen regardless.”

She shoved him in the chest.

“This is that. And you’re going to risk killing them both so you can play the protective father?”

Before Ranger could respond, the distant rumble of engines shook the ground beneath them.

Headlights flashed through the windows.

A massive caravan of black vehicles pulled onto the lawn.

Adam’s instincts kicked in immediately.

“Mom!” he shouted, already bolting out the front door, body braced for a fight.

Mara grabbed Adora, holding her close as Ranger and May rushed outside.

The Flake Squad exited the vehicles, looking like hell—dirty, sweat-soaked, their armor smeared with blood and claw marks. The van’s exterior was scarred, torn apart by something massive.

Then, Crux stepped out.

“Hello, Ranger,” he said, voice tight. He reached into his coat, pulled out an envelope, and handed it to him.

Ranger took it but barely glanced at it. “What the hell is this?”

Crux exhaled sharply, his patience thin.

“We need to get Adora back to Halfmoon.”

Ranger’s eyes narrowed on to crux, crux just say. “Look, I don’t know what my dad wrote in that letter, but I need answers before we—”

Ranger cuts him off. “ what the hell is happing why is carter sending soldiers to my house, how—

Crux cut him off.

“The moment you separated them, all hell broke loose.”

The air grew still.

Crux’s hands curled into fists.

“We don’t know if he followed us here or not, so I’ll make this short.” He inhaled sharply.

“The second Adora left, Catra started acting... strange. Then he shifted. But not into a wolf. Not fully.”

A heavy pause.

“He turned into some kind of shadow-werewolf hybrid. He’s searching for something—but he’s also hunting. Killing anything that moves. His last words were—”

Crux’s throat tightened.

The last human-sih thing my brother told my father was 

“Bring Adora.”

Silence.

It settled over the group like a suffocating weight.

Then—Crux lifted his head, his eyes burning with resolve.

“I’m sorry, but she’s coming with us—whether you like it or not.”

His voice was steady, unwavering.

“Because if she doesn’t, my father will have to kill my brother to stop him. And that’s going to break him—not just as a leader, but as a father.” Crux took a step forward, his jaw clenched tight. “So I’m doing what I can to save my family, sir. I respect your need to do what you think is right, but we will be taking her back to Halfmoon.”

Boon, Mack, Aloe, Keys, and Blot—all Flake Squad operatives—silently readied their weapons.

Every target was on Ranger.

Ranger’s stance changed—his eyes darkened, his presence shifting from father to warrior.

“You shoot me, and you’ll have a goddamn war on your fucking lawn by dawn.”

Crux smirked.

“Sir, with all due respect—what the hell do you think is happening right now?” He took another step forward, right into Ranger’s personal space.

“We have soldiers down. Kids hiding in dorms. And my father is preparing to kill his own son. The war is already on our front lawn, and it’s wiping its ass with your threats.”

The Flake Squad didn’t move—but their fingers tensed over the triggers, their respect for Crux growing by the second.

Ranger didn’t back down. But he also didn’t argue.

May’s jaw tightened.

Then—without another word—she turned and walked back into the house.

A moment later, she reappeared—Mara at her side, carrying Adora’s limp form in her arms.

Ranger’s hand shot out, grabbing May’s wrist.

She ripped away from him, fire flashing in her eyes.

“We’re going.”

Her voice was steel.

“I’m not letting that man kill his son, and I’m not letting my daughter be trapped in whatever this is. If you want to sit in denial, mad that you have no control—” she took a step forward, jabbing a finger into his chest, “then do it on your own goddamn time. Not when my children’s lives—and other people’s children—are on the line.

“Get over yourself.”

Ranger didn’t respond. He couldn’t.

Mara didn’t hesitate—she climbed into the van, shifting Adora so she was comfortable.

Adam followed without a word, slipping into the seat beside his sisters. May slid in next to them, her eyes never leaving Adora’s pale face.

The Flake Squad moved back into position, preparing to leave.

Ranger stood there—silent, stiff. His fingers curled into fists at his sides. Then—he exhaled sharply.

“Fuck.”

He turned toward the van.

“Fine. I’ll follow in my car—”

Aloe stepped forward, voice sharp, cutting through the night.

“Sir, Catra damn near ripped through a man like he was a plastic toy. Along with this van.” Aloe scoffed, shaking his head. “Your car isn’t doing shit. Get your ass in the goddamn truck.”

May snapped her head toward Ranger.

“Listen to the man.”

Ranger sighed.

“Fucking wolves. So dramatic.”

Aloe rolled his eyes. Then, with a smirk, he turned to Crux.

“Ready?”

Crux nodded. Then—his voice rang through the night.

“Let’s move out!”

The Flake Squad snapped to attention.

“We’re heading back to base. Catra may know we left—maybe. But we move at top speed. No breaks. We push through until we’re home.

Understood?”

A chorus of voices shouted in response.

“YES, SIR!”

Crux grabbed the radio.

“Base, we’re coming in. Prepare for re-entry in two hours.”

The caravan roared to life.

Tires spun, kicking up dirt and gravel. The wind rushed past as they sped away from the Gray house.

Then—

The comms crackled.

Carter’s voice cut through the silence like a blade.

A sharp inhale.

Then—

“Target acquired.”

The entire truck went silent.

Even Crux froze.

He picked up the radio.

“Yes, sir. And we have the full Gray family with us.”

The truck remained silent.

Then—

A low chuckle rolled through the speakers.

“Ranger, I’m in charge now. You have no authority over my camp until we fix your fucking mistake.”

Then—

Static.

The Ride Back

Adam leaned forward, his voice low.

“How bad is it?”

Crux didn’t look at him. His jaw clenched.

“Men down.” His voice was quiet. “Probably dead. It’s a shit show. No one was prepped for this.” He exhaled, shaking his head. “He’s so big. We’ve never seen a wolf that size before.”

Crux’s gaze flicked to the side—his eyes landed on Adora’s unconscious form, cradled in his sister’s arms.

His stomach tightened.

“How bad is she?” he asked.

Adam shrugged, frustrated.

“We don’t know. She was screaming in the middle of the night. We tried to wake her—she just passed out.” Adam’s hands curled into fists. “She won’t stop crying, even in her sleep. We don’t know what’s happening.”

Crux turned fully toward him.

“Then me and you? We’re allies now.” His voice was low, steady. “I need to save my brother. You need to save your sister.

So let’s get this done.”

Adam held his gaze.

Crux’s next words were quiet—but firm.

“Don’t pussy out when you see him.”

Adam’s throat bobbed.

Crux narrowed his eyes.

“I’m telling you—he’s big.”

Aloe chuckled.

He nudged Crux playfully. “Easy, kid. You just got the hang of this yourself.”

Crux huffed.

But he didn’t argue.

It was just before 6 AM when they reached Halfmoon. The first light of dawn stretched across the sky, turning the world into a surreal mix of gold and deep gray.

The road leading to the base was littered with bodies.

Not human—but animals.

Deer, foxes, wolves. Birds strewn across the ground like discarded rags. Their bodies mangled, twisted, drained.

The truck slowed as the sight registered. The stench of death clung to the air.

Aloe’s voice was sharp. “Keep moving. We’ll clear them later.”

Reddy obeyed, tightening his grip on the wheel. The truck rolled forward without hesitation, crushing whatever lay beneath its tires. Bones cracked, bodies flattened under the weight of the vehicle.

The moment they entered the camp, chaos unfolded.

Hundreds of wolves were moving through the base—soldiers, medics, scouts. Some carried the wounded. Others reinforced the perimeter.

They pulled in.

The van doors slammed open.

Mara stepped out first, still holding Adora.

Carter approached immediately, his eyes sharp and assessing.

“What happened to her?” he asked, stopping in front of them.

May’s voice was firm. “I’m pretty sure it’s the same thing that happened to Catra. Just… less destructive.”

Carter huffed a dry chuckle. “Figures. The vamps get it easy.”

He turned. “Come on. Let’s get her to his room.”

As they moved toward Catra’s dorm apartment, Carter spoke, his voice low but tense.

“Once we got the generators running and secured the camp, we finally reached your weird scientist.” His expression twisted slightly. “She’s on her way, but she won’t be here until later.” He glanced at Adora. “But she said to put Adora in Catra’s scent. That should wake her up.”

May’s brows furrowed. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Carter shrugged. “Didn’t to me either. Until now.”

The comms exploded.

“Movement on Hill Sector! Movement on Hill Sector! Clear all open areas now!”

Carter’s eyes went wide.

“RUN!”

The group sprinted toward the dorm.

Then—

A shadow dropped in front of them.

The ground shook with impact.

The group skidded to a halt.

Catra stood in front of the dorm building.

Fully shifted.

Massive.

Ranger and Carter immediately stood their ground.

The shadows around Catra’s wolf form moved violently, writhing like living creatures, coiling and snapping at the air.

Carter exhaled sharply. “Jesus Christ.”

Ranger’s breath caught in his throat. “He’s fucking massive.”

Catra’s wolf form was unlike anything they had ever seen.

Giant. Black as night. His fur shimmered with deep crimson undertones, his front legs streaked with twisted white markings. His sheer size dwarfed every other wolf they had encountered—he was unnatural.

His amber and blue glowing eyes locked onto Ranger.

Then—

He snarled.

A deep, gut-wrenching sound that sent ice through every vein.

Carter’s hand twitched toward his weapon.

“Shit.” His voice was tight. “I think he recognizes you.”

Carter’s fingers curled around his blade.

“Ranger—run. Now.”

But before Ranger could move—

Catra lunged.

A black blur, faster than sound.

The world tilted.

The second Catra moved—Adora inhaled.

His scent slammed into her.

Her body reacted instantly.

She gasped—then launched herself forward.

Faster than she had ever moved before.

Before anyone could react—

She tackled him.

Adora’s arms and legs locked around his massive, thrashing neck.

The impact sent a shockwave of dust into the air.

The sheer force of it was enough to rattle the entire group, sending debris flying.

Catra snapped his jaws, his entire body coiled and convulsing—but he didn’t throw her off.

She held on.

Tight.

And then—she screamed.

“LET HIM GO, SOLAS! PLEASE—I’M BACK! I’M BACK! DON’T KILL HIM! PLEASE—JUST GIVE HIM BACK TO ME!”

Her voice ripped through the morning air.

She chanted the words over and over.

The group stood frozen.

Carter. Ranger. Crux. May. Mara. The soldiers.

Everyone.

Carter’s eyes widened.

“…Adora?” His voice barely above a whisper.

Adora looked up.

Her eyes glowed.

A deep, ancient fire.

“No.”

Her voice dropped, filled with something not entirely human.

“It’s Solas.”

Then—

The shadows began to fade.

Slowly, agonizingly, the dark tendrils that had been wrapped around Catra’s form began to loosen.

The wolf’s body twitched.

And then—

A wailing cry.

Not from Adora.

Not from anyone.

From the wolf itself.

A cry of pain. Of loss.

Then—

The transformation broke.

The black wolf shrank.

His body cracked, twisted, realigned.

Until all that was left—was Catra.

Human. Bare. Broken.

He lay naked and mangled on the floor, his body torn, bruised, covered in blood.

Adora ripped off her shirt, throwing it over him.

She pulled him into her arms, cradling him.

“It’s okay.” Her voice was breaking. “I’m back. We’re gonna fix you, okay? He’s gone. Solas is gone. You’re safe. Just hold on, Catra—please.”

His breathing slowed.

Too slow.

Adora’s tears fell onto his skin.

“Just hang on, okay? Please.”

She held him tighter.

Carter grabbed his comms.

“Get the aid cart—NOW.” His voice was sharp. “He’s too mangled to move by hand. We need medics ASAP.”

The camp fell into a heavy, eerie silence.

A stillness that settled over them all.

The aid team arrived.

They lifted Catra’s unconscious body onto the transport, moving him toward the camp hospital.

Adora never let go of his hand.

She walked beside him the whole way.

Chapter Text

Catras point of view

As he hung in the abyss of nothingness, his blood draining, his bones breaking, he was a passenger in his own body. Pain—blinding, unbearable—rippled through him, yet he refused to break. His body may have been reduced to little more than a shattered vessel, but his mind remained his own. And he knew, with unwavering certainty, that his father would save him from this hell.

And if not?

At least he was leaving a mark.

The thought of River and Adora flickered through his consciousness like dying embers, but it was Adora who clung to him the hardest, her presence wrapping around his fading existence. He had only ever been in one relationship before, if you could call it that—a chaotic, volatile storm of shouting matches and passion, of heat without warmth, of satisfying sex that left his soul starved. River had awakened something primal in him, something animalistic, but what he was about to start with Adora was different.

Stable.

He knew Adora had never been with anyone, but she carried the knowledge of love like a birthright. She knew how she wanted to be treated. She was sweet, kind, and understanding. He thought of her smile, the way he could so easily shock her with subtle gestures—things that would never faze River. He loved the institutions, the traditions, but it was the grace behind them that drew him in.

And Adora... Adora was grace incarnate.

Yet beneath that elegance, that careful poise, there was power. Raw. Undeniable. The moment she had stepped onto the camp, he had felt it—a force so potent it bent the very air around her. Time itself had staggered, the earth holding its breath as she emerged from the car, her presence swallowing the sound, the movement, the world itself. It struck him deep, coiling in his bones, tightening around his chest like a vice.

Behind that power, though, was something else. A contradiction.

The cruelest, softest thing he had ever encountered.

She was a beacon in the shadows of his world, a glow in the darkness he had called home for too long. And now he would never see her light in its full brilliance. The realization cut deeper than any wound inflicted upon him, deeper than the ribs cracked open to expose his insides, deeper than the rivers of his own blood leaving his body in sluggish, betraying streams.

The very power that had made him feel so invincible, so untouchable, was now the very thing killing him.

And still—all he could think about was her.

Her soft lips, the golden strands of her hair, her perfect mouth—full, but sharp, her teeth a hidden danger. Her blunt nails. Her milky skin. Her eyes, pale but deep as an ocean storm, drawing him in, pulling him under.

He could feel it now, the last fragile thread tethering him to the world fraying, unraveling, slipping from his grasp.

The darkness was swallowing him whole.

And there was nothing he could do but let it.

"I’m here, okay? Hold on, Catra. Just hold on a little longer. Please—just a little longer, okay?"

A wetness lands on his cheek—warm, desperate. A voice, soft but breaking, cuts through the endless waves of pain. It feels distant, like a whisper in the wind, something he could latch onto, something to carry him away.

He wants to follow it.

The agony is unbearable, a crushing, consuming thing that drags him under, forcing his body to surrender. He is a prisoner in his own flesh, suspended between pain and nothingness, teetering on the edge of the void. His consciousness flickers like a candle in a storm, barely holding on.

More voices. Murmurs. Urgency.

"You have to let go, miss. You have to let him go."

Then a deeper voice, firm but laced with sorrow.

"adora, sweetheart, let go. They have to help him."

A new rush of sound crashes over him—chaos, footsteps pounding against slick hospital floors, the metallic hum of medical carts wheeling too fast, bodies moving, urgency vibrating through the air like electricity. The voices blur, blending into a haze of noise.

"Ready the emergency room—he’s bad. Just from eyeballing it, he’s lost a lot of blood. Several broken bones, they’re not even trying to heal. Severe abrasions covering his skin, trauma across every part of his body."

His mind drifts, floating somewhere between wakefulness and unconsciousness, listening but not truly hearing.

"We need to get blood ready and prep for surgery."

"Are you sure?"

That voice. Familiar. He should know it, should recognize it, but his thoughts are slipping, memories scattering like sand through his fingers.

"Yes, sir. If we don’t move fast, I don’t know if he’ll make it."

Then—lightning.

A fresh wave of pain, white-hot and unforgiving, rips through him without warning, tearing a ragged sound from his throat. Every nerve in his body screams, every shattered bone protests, every inch of him begs for relief.

Then—her voice.

Soft. Strong. Commanding.

"Stop! You’re hurting him!"

The air shifts, tension rising. The sound of movement halts for just a beat—just long enough for her voice to slice through the panic like a knife.

"Hold him more gently!"

His body shudders. He can’t move, but he feels the shift, the way the hands on him adjust, the way the pain dulls just slightly, as if the mere force of her words has changed something.

"Adora," a male voice says—controlled, clipped, barely restraining emotion. "They just moved him to the gurney."

"I don’t care," she snaps. "I can feel it. He’s in pain, and they made it worse. I have to go with him—"

"Adora, stop!”  The man's voice yells 

Then she yells back,  "It's your fault anyway!"

The words crack through the air like a gunshot, and for a moment, everything stills.

A new voice enters. Hardened. Cold. A voice that doesn’t shake.

"Adora, you can go with him. But they have to do their job, okay?"

Silence. Then a breath.

"Okay."

Then warmth—soft, delicate, familiar—brushes against his skin. A touch, fleeting but grounding, anchoring him to something real, something solid.

And then—nothing.

The world fades, swallowed whole by the steady beeping of machines, the hum of fluorescent lights, the rhythmic, mechanical sounds of life being measured in heartbeats.

And then, finally, silence.

— 

A vicious growl rips through the darkness, raw and instinctual.

Panic surges through him like a wildfire. His hands move on their own, clawing at the wires and needles embedded in his skin. The beeping machines scream in protest, their shrill alarms mixing with the sharp gasps of nurses rushing toward him. I don't see them. Don't hear them. The only thing that exists is the suffocating sense of being trapped, bound, restrained.

No. No. No.

i rips the gown from his body, the fabric tearing under his frenzied grip. His breath is ragged, his chest heaving as his mind scrambles to focus. The room spins, everything distorted—darkness stretching and compressing, walls twisting, the scent of antiseptic and something wrong coating his throat. my body, disoriented and unhinged, fights to place itself in reality.

But then, clarity slams into him.

The room. The simple yet familiar space. The sterile white sheets. The dim hum of the overhead light. The unmistakable scent of this place.

The hospital room in the camp.

A ragged breath escapes him. Another. The wild spinning slows. its pulse still pounds like a war drum, but my mind sharpens, anchoring itself. i forces himself to move—not in a blind frenzy but with purpose. Step by step, he makes his way to the window.

The latch clicks.

Cool desert air rushes in. The Arizona night greets him with crisp, dry whispers, wrapping around his overheated skin. i inhales deeply, letting it fill his lungs, feeling his body recalibrate, my power settling into place, realigning. The shift is intoxicating. Every inch of him hums with raw energy, pulsing with something primal, something untamed yet finally…whole.

Then—i smells her.

It’s instant.

Like slamming into a wall, like being wrenched into existence all over again.

my body stiffens, muscles locking into place as her scent consumes him, igniting every nerve, every buried hunger. It’s her—only her. my heart pounds, his instincts kick in, and before i can stop myself, i moves.

i follows.

The scent leads him through the camp, up the familiar path, straight to his building. His dorm. His apartment. I  move without thinking, without hesitation. my hands reach for the door. Locked. A low, frustrated growl rumbles from my chest. Without pausing, he extends his nails, slipping them into the lock, twisting. The door gives way with a click.

The moment i steps inside—

Pain.

A metallic clang. A sharp, brutal impact. A white-hot explosion of agony bursts across my skull.

"Ugh—what the fuck?!"

my vision blurs, the room tilting as i stumbles, hands flying to my head. The ringing is deafening, a steady thrumhammering through my skull.

"Jesus Christ," he groans, gripping the throbbing wound.

"Oh my God—Catra, I’m so sorry!"

Her voice. Panic-laced, breathless. Then—soft hands, warm and slightly damp, reaching for me.

"I just—panicked! I heard a noise, and I was in the shower, so I ran into the kitchen, and I just—" She exhales sharply. "I’m sorry, please, look at me."

Her fingers trail over my skin, searching, soothing. They brush over my chest, along my arms, up to my face. Then she cradles it, thumbs pressing gently into my temples, grounding me.

"Open your eyes, please," she whispers. "I swear, I didn’t mean to—wait. Did they even let you leave the hospital?"

my eyes finally crack open.

And there she is.

Damp, wet hair curling around her face, sticking to her bare shoulders. Soft lips, parted slightly in worry. Milky skin glowing under the dim light. And those eyes—bright but dark, impossibly deep, an ocean i’m already drowning in.

I don't think . Don't hesitate.

I grabbed her.

my fingers sink into her skin, i grip firm but desperate, and in the next second, my lips crash onto hers.

She gasps, but then—she melts.

The kiss is instant, deep, an unspoken hunger spilling between them. Her lips are soft, warm, moving against my with a slow, deliberate rhythm, like they’ve been here before, like they’ve always been meant to do this.i tilts his head, deepening the kiss, my tongue slipping into her mouth, tasting her, savoring her. She moans softly, the sound vibrating through me, shooting straight down his spine.

my hands roam, tracing the curve of her waist, gripping, exploring. I reach down, palms sliding over her ass, squeezing, pulling her closer. She presses against me, her towel slipping lower with every movement.

Then—I nipped her lip, just enough to draw the faintest hint of blood.

She shudders, moaning again, her fingers tangling in my hair, pulling me closer. I hum against her mouth, tasting the faint, coppery sweetness of her skin, of her.

Her hands are everywhere—wrapping around my neck, dragging down my chest, pressing into my back. my own hands are just as greedy, sliding over her hips, up her spine, pulling at the knot of her towel. A sharp tug—

And it falls.

The kiss deepens. our breath mingles, our bodies pressed together, skin to skin. Heat radiates between us, an unbearable, all-consuming warmth that neither of us wants to escape. my hands explore her bare body, memorizing every dip, every curve, every place that makes her shiver.

The way i tries to pull back—to speak, to say something, anything—

But she won’t let him.

Her arms tighten around my neck, pulling me in, her lips claiming mine again with a need that matches my own. Her bare skin is damp against mine, soft yet unyielding. She clings to me, and I to her, neither of us willing to let go.

Nothing else exists.

Only this.

Only her.

Only us. 

• - 

Fuck, you taste so good…

I groan against her lips, devouring every second of this moment. My hands roam over her body, fingers greedy, desperate, mapping the soft curves I’ve missed for what feels like forever. I grip her ass, squeezing, feeling the warmth of her skin under my palms. A moan escapes her, sharp and breathless, her body jerking slightly at my touch. Then—instinctively—I spread her cheeks just enough to tease her, to feel her react against me.

She gasps. "Catra—wait."

Her voice trembles, but she doesn’t pull away. Instead, she leans in, kissing me again—slow, deep—before pulling back, her fingers brushing along my face, tracing my jaw, thumbs sweeping over my lips. Her eyes, those impossibly dark and glowing pools of blue, lock onto mine, searching, memorizing.

"I missed you, Cat," she whispers, voice barely above a breath. "I thought—I thought I was going to lose you."

That sadness, that lingering pain, bleeds into her expression. It fucking kills me.

I lean in and kiss her. First her lips—slow, lingering—then her nose, then the soft skin just beneath her eye, then her forehead. With a deep inhale, I pull her against me, locking my arms around her waist, holding her close, holding her like she’s the only thing keeping me tethered to this world.

"You’ll never lose me," I murmur against her skin. "We won’t be like them. We won’t do what they did. I felt what he felt, and Adora—that was unbearable. I never want to feel that again."

She exhales sharply against my chest, burying herself into me.

"I’d rather be up your ass and annoying you to death than ever feel that kind of distance again." I chuckle, shaking my head. "Besides, you saved me. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I’d be standing here."

She lifts her head just enough to look at me, eyes narrowing. "Catra, I wasn’t doing that to pay back some favor."

"Well, you could’ve fooled me, baby."

She rolls her eyes at that, but there’s a flicker of amusement behind them.

"Seriously, Cat, you were in so much pain. I could feel it in my bones." Her voice drops, tightens with emotion. "You were unconscious for two weeks."

"Well, shit," I mutter, a smirk curling at my lips. "Didn’t even think to ask what day it was."

I laugh. She shoves me—hard.

"Catra, I’m serious!"

I catch her hand, bringing it to my lips, kissing her knuckles before resting her palm against my chest. I can feel my heart hammering beneath her touch.

"I know, baby. I know. So much has happened, and you don’t even know where to start?"

She nods, biting her lip.

I tap my chin, pretending to think. "Well, I have an idea of where we should start."

She blinks, confused. "Wait, what—"

Before she can finish, I scoop her up into my arms, walking straight to my bedroom door. I kick it shut behind us, lock it, then do the same to the bedroom door. Her breath hitches, her hands gripping my shoulders as I toss her onto the bed.

A sharp gasp leaves her lips, but she barely has time to react before I jump in after her, pinning her beneath me.

She thrashes playfully, laughing, but I don’t let her go. Instead, I start to tickle her, fingers moving over the soft skin of her ribs, her stomach, watching her twist and squirm beneath me, giggling, cursing between sharp breaths.

It isn’t until she stills beneath me, her chest rising and falling, eyes wide and locked onto mine, that I finally notice—

We’re both naked.

My breath catches. My gaze trails down, drinking her in—the soft curves, the smooth expanse of her skin, the way her chest rises and falls with every ragged inhale.

I lick my lips.

Heat coils low in my stomach, a slow, burning ache.

Without thinking, I slide my arms around her, wrapping them under her body, pulling her against me. She exhales sharply, her fingers threading into my hair as I bury my face into the soft valley beneath her collarbone.

The best place to be.

I can smell her.

Her scent wraps around me, thick and intoxicating, laced with something deeper, something unmistakable.

She’s aroused.

The realization slams into me, tightening every muscle in my body. My jaw clenches, my fingers twitch against her skin. I try to keep myself calm, to slow the burn threatening to take over, but—

Then I look at her eyes.

They glow.

Faintly, but unmistakably.

I smirk, tilting my head slightly, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "You’re glowing."

She smiles, breathless, reaching up to trace her fingers along my jaw.

"So are you."

My gaze flickers to the reflection in the window, and sure enough—my eyes are glowing too. A deep, burning gold & blue , pulsing with something primal.

"Catra," she whispers, her voice trembling, her hands sliding down my chest, tracing every ridge, every muscle, every scar.

My heart pounds.

My body hums with something ancient, something electric.

I meet her gaze, and in that moment, there’s nothing else. No past. No pain. No uncertainty.

Just this.

Just her.

And I’m never letting go.

– 

Adora’s POV

Fuck, I feel so wet right now.

I know I’m supposed to have control. I’m supposed to be focused , level-headed. But the second he walked out of that hospital and into the door minus the part with me hitting him , all logic left the damn building.

This isn’t what normal people do, right? You don’t just jump your half-recovered, battle-worn, nearly-died-twice boyfriend the second he’s breathing on his own again. That’s… not what normal people do.

And yet—

"Shit," I hissed under my breath as his mouth moved lower, lips dragging, tongue teasing—hot, slow, deliberate—just under my chest. His breath is warm, and every nerve in my body feels like it’s going to snap from the anticipation alone.I feel his teeth bite gently into my skin. The pressure is pushing me to just spread my legs wide.

I want him.

I want to feel him. All of him.

But I don’t know what the fuck to do.

What’s the proper etiquette here? Do I just… spread my legs and hope for the best? Oh my God, Jesus Christ—wait, no, don’t think about Jesus right now, definitely not when I’m about to get dicked down by my injured boyfriend.

My very not-small injured boyfriend.

Oh, fuck.

Maybe I should wait. Right? Like, be reasonable about this. My family is literally down the hall. And I don’t know if I’m a screamer. What if I’m a screamer?! I can’t just casually find that out tonight when his body is still technically in recovery. I should be taking care of him, not—

His tongue glides over my skin again.

My brain: 404 ERROR—SYSTEM SHUTTING DOWN.

Oh, my God, I cannot do this right now.

He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing, does he? He’s just naturally sinful. He’s got years of experience, a body that moves like sex was built into his DNA, and I—I have nothing but a brain that won’t shut the fuck up.

I need to say something. I need to stop this before I completely melt into a puddle of horny chaos.

"I… I need to pee."

Catra freezes, lifts his head, and smirks.

I hate him.

No, I love him, but I hate him. That fucking smirk—smug, amused, effortlessly sexy. I want to rip it off his face and eat it.

Wait.

What the fuck did I just think?

I need to pull myself together. This is not what I planned for tonight. He’s fresh out of a coma. I should probably, probably be thinking about getting him back to the hospital, right? Right??

Catra tilts his head, and that damn smirk deepens.

"Adora," he says, voice like silk. "Just pee in my mouth while I eat you out."

My entire body malfunctions.

My eyes widen—cartoonishly widen. My soul fucking leaves my body. I swear, the spirit of my ancestors just turned their backs on me.

I don’t even know how to respond because a part of me definitely liked the way he said it, which means I am going to hell. Not even regular hell—some special kind of hell that was built for sinners like me.

I just sit there, frozen in sheer shock, my brain short-circuiting at an ungodly speed.

"Adora, so… can I?" he asks again, teasing, his voice dripping with laughter.

My mouth opens, but no sound comes out. My soul has yet to return to my body.

Then—he laughs.

He laughs so hard he drops his head against my stomach, shoulders shaking, completely losing it.

"Relax," he breathes against my skin, still chuckling. "I was joking—kinda. I mean, I would do it. I'd drink you like a dying man in the desert finally reaching water."

My brain: critical error—system rebooting…

And then, because I am an absolute dumbass, I say:

"Oh. That’s… good to know."

He chokes on his laugh, completely wheezing, clutching his stomach as he dies of laughter.

I just let my head drop onto the pillow, utterly defeated.

Then, suddenly, his arm wraps around me, pulling me in until I’m pressed against his chest. His other hand cups my face, thumb tracing my cheek, his eyes—sharp, golden, warm—staring into mine with something too deep for words.

"I’m in no rush, Adora," he murmurs. "I'll move how you move. That’s it."

My chest tightens.

"But—" I start, but he shakes his head, silencing me.

"No buts," he says. "I don’t want a repeat of my past. I want to build something real and new with you. And even though we’ve had talks, and—well—you’ve definitely had my dick down your throat, I’m not in a rush to push you, okay?"

I nod, swallowing hard, melting into his touch. But in my head?

I just want to suck his dick like it’s the last meal I’ll ever have.

"Good to know," I mutter again, quickly slipping out of his arms and rushing to the bathroom.

Just as I close the door, I hear him cackling in bed.

Fucking hell.

I am never going to be sexy to this man.

• In the bathroom

I don’t know what comes over me, but the panic of losing my first time—of it not fitting the picture everyone painted—makes me feel like I’m doing something wrong, even when the moment itself feels so right. I take a deep breath, trying to shake the weight of expectation, trying to focus on what I want instead of what I’ve been told I should want.

 But then, like a cruel trick, the image of them surfaces—how he and her used to look together, the effortless way their bodies fit, the ease, the intimacy that seemed second nature. And then, I look at myself, my reflection staring back at me, my body feeling unfamiliar, like I don’t belong in this moment the way she did. 

My chest tightens, doubt creeping in, but beneath it—beneath it—there’s something deeper, something raw and aching, something that wants to claim this moment, him, for myself.I stare at myself in the bathroom mirror, my reflection caught between dim lighting and self-loathing.

I run my fingers over my stomach, feeling the slight softness there. Not rock-hard abs. Not sculpted, sharp lines. My thighs aren’t small, my breasts aren’t perfect, and—fuck.

I lower my head, sighing heavily.

I don’t look like River at all.

River—the kind of body people stop and stare at. Cut, toned, effortlessly perfect. Like she was sculpted by the gods themselves. And me? I feel less.

I reach for the faucet, turning on the water, hoping the noise will drown out the emotions creeping in. My chest tightens. I feel ridiculous. My injured boyfriend is in the other room, and here I am, spiraling because I don’t look like a fitness model.

Then—

A soft knock.

The door creaks open, and before I can react, he’s there.

Leaning against the doorframe, looking at me with that lazy, knowing smirk. His hair is a little messy, his lips still swollen from our earlier kiss, the ahir on his chest fluffy from are activities 

"I thought you were peeing," he says, voice thick with amusement.

I blink at him.

"I’m not hearing or seeing any peeing, Adora. Are you running from me?" He crosses his arms, his muscles flexing slightly as he tilts his head. "You poor, injured boyfr—"

His words cut off—like he chokes on them for a second.

Then he steps forward, closing the space between us, reaching for my face.

His fingers are gentle, his thumb brushing against my cheek.

"Are we dating?" His voice is softer now. Vulnerable. "Or did you, like... break up with me while I was knocked out?"

His eyes lower slightly, like the idea actually hurts him.

"Shit," he murmurs, his breath warm against my lips. "I should’ve asked. Adora, I’m—"

I don’t let him finish.

Because fuck, I can’t hold back anymore.

I grab his face and kiss him, hard, dragging my teeth over his bottom lip, sucking, biting, knowing exactly how much pressure he likes.

A growl rumbles from his chest, deep and primal, vibrating against me. Then—he grabs me, yanking me closer, hands gripping my waist, and suddenly he’s the one deepening the kiss.

His lips devour mine, urgent, insatiable. Our tongues twist together, fighting for dominance, heat spreading between us like wildfire. His mouth opens wider, his tongue dragging over mine, tasting, pulling. Then—he sucks on it.

A moan escapes me, and my body reacts. My fangs drop, my senses heighten, and—

A sharp nick.

I taste copper before I realize what’s happened.

My fang grazed his tongue.

His eyes snap open, and suddenly they’re glowing. Gold and blue, burning like twin flames in the dim light.

In an instant, he pins me against the bathroom sink.

My legs instinctively part, and he presses between them, his body solid, heavy, demanding. My arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him in, as his hands move over me—possessive, roaming, claiming.

Heat coils low in my stomach, my mind foggy with lust, with hunger, with him.

I push back slightly, breathless. Not in the bathroom. Not here. Not like this.

"Bed," I murmur.

That’s all it takes.

In a blur, he scoops me up and throws me onto the mattress, following right after me.

I land with a bounce, my hair fanning out against the pillows, and when I try to sit up, he stalks forward—slow, predatory, crawling over me like he’s hunting his next meal.

His eyes lock onto mine, burning with something dangerous.

I try to move back, but the bed swallows me deeper, and then—he’s there.

Hovering over me.

He leans in, kissing me once—soft, teasing—before moving lower, trailing his lips down my neck, sucking, biting—harder.

A sharp, piercing sensation blooms as his fangs finally break skin.

"Shit—" I gasp, my back arching, my hands flying into his hair, gripping hard.

I feel him shudder against me.

His growl rolls through his entire body, deep and reverberating, as he drinks.

My thighs clamped around his waist instinctively, the sensation too much, too raw, too good. Heat rushes between my legs, wetness pooling, spreading, dripping.

I can feel it—feel him.

The way his tongue flicks against my skin, the way he drinks in slow, agonizing pulls, savoring every drop.

The way his body shudders like he’s coming undone.

Then—his tongue moves lower, licking the fresh wound, soothing it, sending another shiver down my spine.

I bite my lip, sucking on my own breath, my fingers slipping from his hair to my chest—

I don’t even realize what I’m doing until my own hands are teasing my nipples, rolling them between my fingers, chasing the sensation.

His head tilts slightly, his eyes darkening.

Then—he licks up the length of my throat, tracing the vein, before moving lower.

He kisses along my collarbone, then bites it, his fangs dragging lightly over my skin before sinking in just enough to leave a mark.

"Fuck—"

I gasp, my body tightening.

He hums in satisfaction, his hands skimming lower, gripping my hips, sliding down my thighs.

Then, slowly—deliberately—he spreads them.

I feel his breath first, warm and teasing against my skin.

Then—his lips.

Soft.

Slow.

And utterly devastating.

I throw my head back, eyes squeezing shut, a shuddering moan slipping past my lips as his tongue flicks out—tasting, teasing, drawing circles over the place I need him most.

Then—he devours.

And I lose myself completely.

He moves up, lips tracing the sharp line of my jaw, his tongue flicking against my skin, leaving a trail of heat in its wake. I shudder, my breath hitching as his mouth finds the sensitive spot just below my ear. His breath—hot, slow, deliberate—tickles the fine hairs at the nape of my neck, and I gasp, body locking up for just a second before melting beneath him.

I keep rubbing my nipples, unable to stop, needing more, more, as his chest brushes against mine, the soft hair tickling my skin. His hands—strong, commanding—hold my hips down, pressing me into the mattress, pinning me there with the full weight of his body. My head is spinning, my nerves alive, every inch of me burning with anticipation.

Then, low and husky, his voice brushes against my ear.

"I’m so fucking hard right now."

His words send a shiver straight down my spine.

"But if you want me to stop, I will."

Then—he sucks on my earlobe, slow, deliberate, and my eyes roll back.

A guttural moan rips from my throat as heat pools between my thighs, throbbing, aching. I can feel how wet I am, how slick my skin is, how my body is screaming for him. It’s overwhelming—every kiss, every touch, every graze of his fangs against my skin ignites something deeper, something raw.

I can’t hold back. I don’t want to.

"Fucking—fucking take me already."

I throw my head back, pinching my own nipples harder, desperate for relief.

He growls—a deep, vibrating sound that sends a shockwave through me—before moving down, replacing my hand with his mouth. His lips wrap around my nipple, hot, wet, perfect, his tongue swirling, flicking, teasing before he bites down.

Hard.

His fangs sink into my breast, and I wail, my body jerking, pleasure and pain merging in a dizzying, intoxicating blur. More wetness floods between my legs, a sticky heat rolling down my thighs, and his hand—fuck—his hand—moves, gripping my ass, then sliding up behind my knee.

He spreads me.

One hand holds my leg open, the other presses firmly against my hip, keeping me trapped, keeping me exactly where he wants me.

Then—

Something hard nudges against my clit.

I gasp, body jolting, hands flying to his shoulders. He moves, slow and deliberate, rubbing himself against me, dragging the tip along my slickness, teasing, coating himself in me.

"Catra—"

He doesn’t answer. He just moves lower, positioning himself, pressing in ever so slightly—

Then—he bites down again, hard, this time on my nipple.

I scream, a sound I don’t recognize, a noise that’s high-pitched, desperate, needy, and before I can process it—

He pushes in.

I claw at his shoulders, nails extending, breaking skin, digging into the muscle of his back. A sharp inhale rips through me as my body stretches, a burning, overwhelming pressure splitting me open, but it’s good, it’s so good, I can’t breathe, can’t think—

"Fuck—"

I arch, every muscle in my body tensing, my veins pulsing with something feral, something beyond human. His tongue leaves over my nipple, soothing, and at the same time, he pushes deeper.

I moan—loud, obscene, unable to hold anything back.

His growl deepens, rumbling through his chest, through me, vibrating against every inch of my skin like a live wire.

Then he snaps his hips forward, burying himself to the hilt.

"Ahhh—!"

The sound that leaves my lips is not human. It’s raw, animalistic, and I barely have time to process it before he speaks, voice wrecked, low and guttural.

"Fuck."

His head drops to my shoulder, his breath hot against my skin, and I feel it—feel him, every inch, every vein, every twitch of his cock inside me.

I can barely form words. My brain has completely short-circuited.

"You’re—fuck, you’re so big."

Catra lifts his head, gold and blue eyes burning, pupils blown wide.

And that’s when I realize—

I’m a screamer.

His smirk is dangerous.

One of his hands moves—I don’t know which one, I can barely see, my eyes are squeezed shut, my body trembling, still trying to adjust.

Then—I hear it.

A wet, obscene sound.

My eyes snap open just in time to catch him spitting into his hand—

"Catra—oh my God—"

It grosses me out and turns me on at the same time.

I hear everything—the wetness, the slick sounds, the pressure, the way he coats himself in his own spit, mixing it with my slick, making the stretch even worse, even better, even more.

Then—he pulls out completely, coats himself again, and thrusts back in.

"Fuck—!"

My back arches off the bed, fingers digging into his skin, my entire body tightening like a bowstring. He’s deep—so deep—and the way he moves, the way he fills me, ruins me.

His growl rumbles through the room, sharp and possessive, his hands gripping me harder, holding me still as he sets a pace.

A slow, devastating rhythm.

Then—he snaps his hips forward again.

"Ahhh—!"

My body locks up, overwhelmed, consumed.

And just like that—

I know I’ll never be the same again.

— 

Hard. Deep. Slow.

The rhythm is devastating. It's driving me to the edge of reality, pushing me toward something otherworldly. It hurts—but in a way that only fuels the pleasure, turning the pain into something addictive, something consuming. The stretch is intense, my body struggling to adjust to just how much of him there is, but fuck, I don’t want him to stop.

I try—I try—to keep my voice down.

But every time I attempt to muffle my moans, he thrusts harder, deeper, forcing me to cry out louder than before.

"Fuck—"

The bed shakes beneath me, my legs spread wide, arms thrown above my head, my breasts bouncing—not aggressively, just enough to keep his hungry, predatory gaze locked on me.

His jaw clenches, his grip tightening on my thighs.

"You’re so fucking tight," he rasps, voice wrecked. "Fuck—I’m gonna bust before I even get you there."

His words send a fresh wave of heat through me.

Then he changes positions, shifting to his knees, gripping my hips, holding me up effortlessly as his movements change. Now, he’s only moving his waist—fucking into me with slow, controlled thrusts that make my whole body tremble.

It’s hypnotizing. It’s so sexy I can’t even breathe.

Then—I watch as he spits, a long, thick drop landing right on my clit.

My eyes widened.

My breath stutters.

Then—his fingers are on me, rubbing it in, teasing me, flicking, pressing—gentle, but devastating.

I lost it.

A strangled, desperate moan rips from my throat as my body locks up, coiling tighter, tighter, so tight I feel like I’m going to explode.

I can’t breathe.

I’m gasping, clawing at the sheets, my muscles seizing, every nerve on fire, my wetness dripping onto his cock as he keeps rubbing, teasing, playing me like he knows exactly how to break me.

Then—

He snaps.

A deep, raw growl erupts from his chest, and suddenly—he’s pounding into me.

Hard. Brutal. Unrelenting.

The bed slams against the floor, the entire frame shifting, the wood scraping loudly—but I barely register it because the only thing I can feel is him.

"Catra—fuck—fuck—"

I scream, my mouth open, but no real words come out—just breathless, gasping moans, broken sounds that don’t even feel like they belong to me.

He changes positions again, suddenly hovering over me, his face close, his breath hot and ragged against my lips.

His hips don’t stop.

Each thrust is harder, sharper, and every time he moves, his lips part just slightly, a raw fuck falling from his mouth, or a deep mmm as he watches me unravel beneath him.

"Yes—fuck, yes—open up for me."

My body reacts on its own, my legs trembling, my thighs shaking as my wetness grows, drenching both of us. I hear it—I hear everything—the obscene, slick sounds, the squelching, the way he moves inside me, stretching me, claiming me.

It makes me worse.

"Shit—fuck—you’re so big—!"

I throw my head back, arching off the bed as the pleasure overwhelms me, making me lose control. I try to close my legs, but he grabs my thighs, forcing them back open, forcing himself even deeper.

"Catra—oh my God—"

I feel it building—the heat, the pressure, the unbearable, mind-shattering tension rolling through my body, pushing me over the edge.

Then—

SNAP.

Something inside me breaks open, unravels, detonates.

"Ahhh—ahhh—ahhh—!"

A scream rips out of me so violently I don’t even recognize the sound. My back arches, my vision blurs, my entire body convulsing as waves of pleasure explode through me, rolling so hard I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but feel.

The bed slams against the wall.

Catra growls—feral, uncontrollable, his hips jerking, erratic, his body tensing—

Then—he roars.

It’s a deep, guttural sound, one that rumbles through me, vibrating against my skin, pulsing into my bones.

And then—he comes undone.

I feel everything.

His body locks up, muscles flexing, his breath ragged, shaky, his release spilling inside me, filling me completely. He keeps moving, grinding against me, drawing it out, pushing me through the aftershocks until I can’t handle it anymore.

The moment stretches, lingers, both of us shaking, panting, completely wrecked.

Then—he slumps forward, arms shaking, breathing hard, his forehead pressing against my shoulder.

"Fuck," he rasps.

It takes him a second before he slowly pulls out, and I feel it—the warm, sticky mess between my thighs, the aftershocks still rolling through me, my body trembling uncontrollably.

"Full," he mutters breathlessly. "I came so much—fuck."

Then, with a satisfied groan, he drops onto the mattress beside me, throwing an arm over his face.

"That was… fucking phenomenal."

I turn my head, staring at him, still too wrecked to speak.

I can’t feel my legs. My voice is gone.

The only thing I’m aware of is the warmth pooling between my thighs, the way my body is still trembling, and the lingering scent of him, of sex, of something intoxicating.

Catra exhales hard, then smirks, turning his head to glance at me.

"So…" he says, voice still heavy with exhaustion. "Do I get round two or do you need a wheelchair?"

I don’t answer.

I just threw a pillow at his face.

– 

Outside Catra’s Apartment

Adam stood outside the door, lazily munching on a bowl of cereal, the faint crunch of each bite the only sound between him and Mara. She stood stiff beside him, arms crossed, spoon still dangling from her mouth, her expression blank—except for the deep, exhausted regret in her eyes.

She looked like she was mentally somewhere else.

Anywhere else.

Then—

A sound.

Not just any sound.

A long, drawn-out moan, high-pitched, breathless, undeniable.

Adam froze, spoon halfway to his mouth.

His eyes slowly shifted to the door.

Then, to Mara.

Then, back to the door.

He took another slow, casual bite of cereal.

"I think she knows he’s not in the hospital anymore," he mused, voice eerily calm, though the growing smirk on his face betrayed his amusement.

Mara closed her eyes for a second. Exhaled sharply.

"Yep."

Another moan.

Louder this time.

Mara’s jaw twitched.

She inhaled deeply, visibly repressing the urge to kick the door open and strangle both of them.

"I’m going to bed," she muttered through clenched teeth, already turning on her heel. "I’m not telling Mom and Dad their precious baby is getting absolutely wrecked in there."

Adam snorted, shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth as he followed her down the hallway.

"That was… distracting," he admitted, voice muffled by the food.

Mara ignored him, marching straight toward the apartment complex Carter had arranged for them. They all had their own spaces—Mara had hers, Adam had his, and their parents, unfortunately, had theirs.

"You should’ve stopped eating when you heard it," Mara muttered, eyes straight ahead.

"And miss the live-action horror show? No thanks," Adam quipped, licking a drop of milk from his spoon.

Mara shuddered in disgust.

Meanwhile—Back at the Hospital

May and Ranger rounded a corner with purpose, Carter and a nurse trailing behind them, looking mildly stressed.

"You check the east wing?" Ranger asked, brows furrowed.

"Yeah, nothing," May huffed, shoving her hands into her jacket pockets.

"He’s not in the fucking hospital," Carter snapped, rubbing his temple. "Did anyone see him leave?"

The nurse beside him gave an apologetic shrug. "We’ve been asking around, but no one remembers him walking out. He’s… kind of hard to miss."

May sighed.

"Great. So we lost a six-foot-five, battle-worn  werewolf  who is very handsome and somehow all the female nurses just let him  vanish. This is going fantastic."

Ranger side-eyed her. "That last part wasn’t necessary."

"Was  it?" may says looking deadpan at ranger. 

They all stood in silence for a second.

Then, without a word, they all turned toward the exit, heading outside to continue their search.

Meanwhile—Back at the Apartment Complex

Mara didn’t even slow her stride as she pulled out her phone and opened the family chat.

Family Chat:
Mara: Adora knocked out, sleeping.

A response came almost instantly.

Dad: Okay, that’s good. We’ll tell her about Catra in the morning.

Mom: Thank God. She hasn’t been sleeping well since we got here. Glad she’s okay. Did you check if she ate the food I left for her in the fridge?

Mara glanced at Adam, already exhausted.

"You answer."

"Why me?"

"Because I don’t care enough, and I just want to sleep."

Adam rolled his eyes but obliged, typing a response.

Family Chat:
Adam: Yeah, Ma. We’re all good. No need to worry.

Mom: Never.

Adam stared at the message for a second.

Then, with the biggest deadpan expression, he sent:

Adam: 😑

Mara: 🥱

Outside Catra’s Apartment—Silence

For a moment, everything was peaceful.

No moaning.

No horrifying sounds.

No reason to worry.

Then—

A very distinct, loud THUMP from inside the room.

Followed by a very male, very satisfied growl.

Adam and Mara froze mid-step.

Mara sighed.

"I’m burning this place down."

The Next Morning

Adora’s POV

Sunlight streamed through the thin curtains, casting a golden glow over the tangled sheets, the warm weight of Catra’s arm draped across my waist. My body ached everywhere—throbbing, delicious soreness settling deep in my bones.

I shifted slightly, and a low, gravelly hum rumbled from Catra’s chest. His body pressed against mine, hot and solid, his fingers tightening around my hip in half-conscious possession.

I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want this moment to end, didn’t want to leave the comfort of his warmth, the lingering traces of last night still written all over both of us—the faint bite marks littering his neck and chest, the heat still pulsing between my legs, the scent of sweat, sex, and sin clinging to the air like a brand.

But then—

A knock.

A very familiar knock.

I groaned, burying my face in Catra’s shoulder, willing them to go away.

Another knock—louder this time.

Catra grumbled something incoherent, barely lifting his head.

"The door," I muttered sleepily, nuzzling deeper against him.

"Let ‘em wait," he rasped, voice hoarse from exhaustion—and, okay, maybe from last night, too.

"They’ll break it down."

"Mmm… let ‘em."

A third, more impatient knock, followed by May’s very unimpressed voice.

"Adora, Catra, wake up! We need to talk!"

A deep, reluctant sigh rumbled through Catra’s chest.

"Fine."

I barely had time to react before he pulled away, pushing himself up and running a hand through his already messy hair. My eyes trailed over him—his body covered in fresh bite marks, some still faintly bleeding, the deep scratches across his back stark against his skin.

Holy fuck.

My breath caught, heat pooling in my stomach again because last night really happened.

He turned his head, catching my expression, and smirked—that lazy, knowing, cocky-as-hell smirk.

"Like what you see, princess?"

I huffed and threw a pillow at him.

"Go answer the door before they break it down."

He chuckled, slipping on only a pair of sweatpants—low enough on his hips that it did absolutely nothing to help my situation—before making his way to the door.

I curled deeper into the sheets, tugging them over my head, not ready to deal with this conversation yet.

Then—the door creaked open.

Silence.

Then—

"Well," May said, an amused lilt to her voice, "I see you’re… healthy."

Catra huffed out a laugh, crossing his arms lazily over his chest, which—by the way—only emphasized the fresh bite marks even more.

Ranger, standing beside her, visibly stiffened.

His nose wrinkled, his entire body going tense as he inhaled.

The heavy, lingering scent of last night hit him all at once.

His jaw locked.

"Good God," he muttered, taking a step back, shaking his head like he was trying to erase whatever unholy mental image just burned itself into his brain.

May, without hesitation, smacked a hand against his chest, grabbed his collar, and dragged him away.

"Nope. Nope. You’re coming with me."

"What? I didn’t even say anything!"

"CALL YOUR FATHER."

"For what?!"

"Tell Adora to call her mother when she wakes up."

Catra—who was still leaning lazily against the doorway, completely unfazed, smirked.

"Yes, ma’am."

Then—he closed the door.

The silence lingered.

The scent didn’t.

Ranger exhaled sharply, adjusting his collar like he was trying to reclaim his dignity.

"Fucking teenagers."

May chuckled, leaning up to kiss his cheek. "He’s not a teenager, sweetheart. And she’s eighteen."

Ranger huffed.

"She’s not eighteen yet. I should arrest him."

May rolled her eyes, smirking.

"They’re four years apart. Relax."

"It feels like a crime," Ranger grumbled, rubbing his temple.

May patted his chest, shaking her head as they walked away. "It’s only a crime because you had to smell it."

Inside the Apartment – May and Ranger

The door to Catra’s apartment shut behind them with a heavy finality. The scent of blood, sex, and something far older—primordial—still clung to the hallway like smoke after a fire.

May exhaled slowly. “It’s only a crime because you had to smell it,” she muttered, half-amused, her tone more observation than joke.

Ranger narrowed his eyes on her. “I can’t believe you were right.”

May chuckled quietly, her arms folding as they walked side by side toward their own quarters. “Please. You really thought if he left that hospital, he’d wander anywhere but straight to her?” She tapped her temple with two fingers. “When a vampire imprints, that bond isn't theoretical. It’s biological. Ancient. He was never going to play by our rules.”

They stepped inside their apartment. The contrast was almost jarring—cozy, lived-in, the air scented faintly with jasmine and sage. A woven blanket draped over the back of the couch. The morning light spilled in golden patches across the hardwood floor. Safe.

But May didn’t sit for comfort. She sat like a judge taking her bench.

Ranger followed, slower, heavier. Still processing.

"Ranger," she said, and the way she said his name—calm, level, but sharpened with edge—cut through the air like a cold wind slicing through fabric.

He turned to face her. Instinctively. He knew that tone.

She wasn’t angry.

She was certain.

"I didn’t like how you acted in this whole situation," she said, voice flat, but beneath it—a tidal pull of disappointment and fire.

Ranger frowned. “May, I—”

She raised her hand—just once—and he stopped.

"Usually, you are calm. Cool. Collected. A general who can lead armies and still kiss scraped knees without missing a beat. But this?" Her eyes locked on his. "You weren’t thinking like a father, or a leader. You were thinking like a man being dragged by fear and pride—choking on it."

The room was silent, but not still. The weight of her words vibrated in the air like an aftershock.

"I know it’s not ideal. I know it’s complicated. But your reaction... it spoke volumes." She inhaled slowly, her voice lowering. “It reminded me of your father.”

That landed. Hard.

Ranger’s shoulders stiffened. His face shifted—anger and pain clashing in real time as his defenses rose like armor forged from trauma.

But May wasn’t afraid of his walls.

She had dismantled them before.

"He hated me from the start. Called me 'soft-blooded' and unfit. Said I was a liability, even when I was proving my power ten times over. When that wasn’t enough, he sent his assassins. Hunted me like I was prey."

She leaned in now, her voice a blade wrapped in silk.

"And when he found out I was pregnant with Mara? He tried to kill me himself. You remember that night." Her voice didn’t shake. It cut. “You stood between us—took that blade meant for my heart. You bled for me, Ranger.”

He didn’t speak. Couldn’t.

"And yet, here we are—years later—and I see him in you.”

That broke something. Not loudly, but in that quiet, soul-fracturing way that made a man sit straighter even as he shrank inside.

May stood then. Not out of anger. Out of duty.

"Let me make something very clear." Her eyes shimmered—not with tears, but with fire.

"I will not stand by and let you become the man who tried to erase me to preserve his pride."

Ranger’s throat bobbed, his jaw twitching.

"If you interfere in our children’s lives in a way that costs them their freedom—or their lives—I will stop you. I will drive silverlight through your veins and watch you burn from the inside out, Ranger."

She took a step closer. Her voice softened. But it hit harder.

"Because I love you... but I love them more."

The silence after that was hollowing.

"I watched you push back on Adora—not because you didn’t love her, but because you didn’t like who she loved. You saw the fangs, and not the person."

She paced once, slowly, deliberately.

"You didn’t even care how Carter’s son was unraveling. He was afraid. He was protecting her. And you treated him like a threat instead of a boy on the verge of breaking. You let your fear blind you. And that—that is what terrifies me."

Ranger swallowed hard.

"You want to protect her. So do I. But fear is not protection. It’s a weapon. And right now, you’re the one wielding it."

He opened his mouth, but again—she stopped him.

"No. Just listen. You don’t get to play righteous and reckless. You don’t get to play savior if you're the reason she’s bleeding. I won’t let you confuse love with control. We did not raise our children to fear who they are, or who they love."

Finally, she stepped back, her voice low and steady, her hands shaking—not from rage, but from the restraint of it.

"You fought your father to marry me. Don’t make me fight you to protect them."

And Ranger—warrior, father, man of legend—sat in the presence of his wife, stripped down to the truth of himself.

And knew—if he didn't change... he would lose everything.

Chapter Text

(Adora's POV  

A Month Later

“ Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuaaaaaaaaahhhhhcccccccccckkkkkkk—mmmmmmmm, you’re so fucking deep, Caaaaaaaaaaaachchchchchctra… ”

The words tear out of me, half-moan, half-confession, spoken into the sweat-slick heat between us as I cling to him. My back is pressed against the rough bark of a towering pine, the texture scraping lightly against my skin. One of my legs is hitched high over his arm, his grip bruising and possessive. My arms are locked around his neck like chains, my fingers tangled in his hair, and my forehead rests against his shoulder, burning.

He thrusts into me again—deep, devastating, perfect —and I cry out, every nerve ending stretched taut, every gasp dragged through my throat like he’s pulling sound from my lungs with the rhythm of his hips.

It’s been a month since the night Solas nearly tore him apart, nearly destroyed us both. I haven’t left his side since. Not once.

Mmmmmmmmm-uuuuhhhhhhhh…. He hits another spot, I try to think but my mine strays as he sets this rough pace. 

We’ve been tangled together ever since, not just in body, but in will—like our souls have decided that survival is no longer enough. We’re fused now.

Something in Catra has changed.

As he drags his long tongue along my neck tasting the salty sweat of my moist skin,he nibbles then growls his sharp teeth graze, I moan hoping it will make him bite….

Creak.

MMMMMMM-AAAAAAUUUUHHHHH…. I gasp and take my teeth and pinch him, he's starting to dominate me and I can't help but submit but I fight to keep my mind ….

….

Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhh……

…

He walks through the camp with a kind of quiet dominance, his power thick in the air like fog no one dares speak of. Not even him.

And me? I’ve tried to stay out of it. Out of the “wolf business,” as he calls it. But the closer we get to the full moon, the more impossible that becomes. His energy is merging into something wilder. Stronger. A tether forged from pain, desire, rage—and me.

A deep, guttural growl rises from Catra’s chest, vibrating between our bodies.

Then—his hand slides up, strong and sure, wrapping around my throat.

My breath stutters. I gasp, spine arching, as his grip tightens just enough to make my heart race.

His voice is a low, dark snarl in my ear.

"Why are you thinking of anything else when I’m inside you?"

There’s a pause. The air holds its breath with me.

"That just tells me I need to fuck you harder… to keep your attention where it belongs."

He releases my neck and steps back just enough to shift his grip.

With fluid strength, he grabs both my legs, hooks his arms under my knees, and pins me higher against the tree. The position traps me completely—nowhere to run, nothing to hold onto but him.

Then—he thrusts.

All at once.

One, smooth, merciless stroke that drives into me so deeply my breath disappears. My mouth opens but no sound comes out. My body clenches around him instinctively, my eyes fluttering shut as my nails dig into his shoulders for something— anything —to hold onto.

Each movement is calculated, precise, devastating.

He pulls back to the tip… then drives back in. Again. Again. Until the rhythm is steady—building in intensity with every passing second. Each thrust heavier, deeper, more punishing.

His eyes—those impossibly bright amber-and-blue flames—are locked onto mine.

He watches me.

Every reaction. Every twitch. Every breath I lose.

His eye roams my face, my body , as his mouth hangs ajar. 

And then, slowly, methodically, he starts to move faster.

I can’t breathe. Can’t think. My cries become desperate gasps, my voice cracking from how loud I am, how out of control I feel. He grips me tighter just beneath the knees, his strength pressing me back harder—so hard the tree begins to groan .

Creak.

Crack.

The trunk trembles behind me.

That’s when it hits me—this isn’t just sex.

This is Primal. Boundless. 

He’s claiming me, and my body is surrendering in ways I didn’t even know it could.

Pain and pleasure blur. They twist into each other, indistinguishable, inseparable. Each thrust stretches me to the brink, then brings me back again.

The air shifts.

I feel it in the way the wind swirls around us, in the way the leaves still and the sky begins to shift above—storm clouds rolling in black and gray, pulsing with a warning.

His claws begin to emerge, slicing lightly into my skin. I hiss, but it only heightens the pleasure, the awareness. His legs shift too, stronger, surging with the energy of the wolf inside him.

And I spread wider.

I Need more. I Want all of him.

The sound of skin meeting skin fills the clearing—slapping, wet, obscene. The air smells like sweat, like rain, like forest and lust and us.

I feel myself unraveling, slipping from this world and into something darker, deeper.

Then—

The tree gives way .

We fall with it.

It collapses in a thunderous crash, moss and bark and sky spinning, and I barely realize what’s happened before he’s on me again.

Catra straddles the trunk, keeping me pinned beneath him. One hand grips my ankle, pulling my leg wide to open me further, exposing me to the sky, to the trees, to him .

And he doesn’t stop.

His thrusts become more brutal, more precise. His thigh pins me, his hand slides up my slick skin, and the sound—oh God, the sound—of our bodies colliding is soaked in sinful, sticky heat.

My moans turn to whimpers. Whimpers turn to screams.

I’m soaked. Trembling. My body buckling beneath the pressure of pleasure.

And all I can do is fall…

Fall into this void of sensation he’s built for me.

For us.

Until the rest of the world no longer exists.

Only Catra.

Only this.

Only us —fused in flame, in pain, in ecstasy—merged at the edge of the wild

Uuuuuuuhhhhhhhhh— aaaaaaaaaa…. 

The sound tears from me, not just from my throat, but from the very center of my being. My hands rake down his back, my nails dragging over his skin, slicing through it . The scent of blood hits the air like perfume, metallic and wild.

Catra growls—a sound that doesn’t belong to any man I’ve known, but something far more primal. Grrrrmmrmrm...

His body shifts above me, the motion fluid but raw with force. One hand slams against the bark beside my head, steadying us, while his hips adjust and I feel him open me further, not  allowing my leg to wrap around him fully,but my pussy sucks and starts to pull him deeper .

He leans in and begins to taste me again..

His tongue traces the curve of my jaw, then the corner of my mouth, until finally—he claims it. His tongue pushes into mine, hot and demanding, like he’s trying to possess me from the inside out. He sucks on my lower lip, then twirls his tongue around mine in a rhythm that mimics the way his body moves inside me—tight, deep, relentless.

All I can do is moan, long and breathless.

" Uhhhhh—fuckkk… Ca— "

He silences me with another growl, the vibration of it shaking both of us.

"You feel that?" he snarls against my lips, his voice like thunder softened by honey. "I’m kissing your cervix. And she’s kissing me back."

He pushes in as i gasp from the sheer pressure of the movement and its painful but pleasant,  he does tight deep micro thrust forcing him to stay as deep as possible 

My breath catches.

"Mmm, if I took you just a little harder…" he murmurs, his tone dark, sultry, dangerous, "…and just a little longer—your pelvis would shatter beneath me. But I’d still keep going. Because you’d heal. Because you’re mine. And I’d bury myself in the deepest parts of you until you forgot what the surface felt like without me."

He licks my throat with that impossibly rough tongue, sending sparks through my veins—then bites down, sharp and unforgiving. The sting is immediate, and the warmth of blood trickles down my collarbone.

And I shatter.

"Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhaa..."

The moan pours out of me, my orgasm not a peak, but a breaking . A collapse. My vision explodes in white, my entire body convulsing as the world around me disappears. My limbs tremble uncontrollably, and I feel myself slipping— falling off a cliff with no end in sight.

And when I land—

I’m changed .

I see Aluna’s eyes—bright, ancient, filled with knowing—and then they become mine.

Something tears open inside me.

Not pain. Not fear.

Freedom.

My skin burns, but not from friction—from power .

I feel the barrier between my mortal body and something divine split apart, as if my soul had been kept in a fragile vessel this whole time, a glass box ready to be broken and now she—Aluna—is reshaping me, molding me anew in fire and silver and celestial blood.

I am no longer just flesh.

I am the storm.

I am the spark of the gods.

And Catra—still moving above me, eyes burning, body slick with sweat and blood—is the only anchor tethering me to this world as I become something else entirely.

Something unstoppable.

Uhhhhhhhhh—

The aftershocks are still trembling through me, waves of pleasure that haven’t fully faded. My limbs feel like honey—slow, golden, trembling—but my mind is clear in the most dangerous way.

I need more.

I flip us—him —with a growl, surprising us both. I don’t want to be claimed. Not right now. I want to claim.

We tumble from the tree in a tangle of limbs and gasps, landing hard in a bed of moss and dirt, leaves scattering around us like startled whispers. I straddle him, breathless, my palms flat against his chest, feeling the wild drum of his heart through skin that’s too hot to be human.

I lean down and kiss him. Not gently—hungrily.

My lips crash into his, my teeth catching his bottom lip as I pull, push, devour. His mouth opens beneath mine, and our tongues meet in a slick, desperate slide. He tastes like fire—like something feral and ancient and mine.

I grind down, my soaked warmth dragging along the taut planes of his abdomen. I feel the hard line of him, thick and pulsing, and a low groan breaks from my throat.

He growls into my mouth, his hands gripping my hips, his nails digging in just enough to remind me who he is—even beneath me.

But I don’t stop.

"Let me," I whisper, kissing down his jaw, slow and reverent. "Let me ride you. Let me show you how I want you to love me."

He doesn’t answer with words.

He flips me again. Hard. Fast.

We wrestle for control, lips locked, bodies sliding against each other, skin catching on skin, dirt sticking to sweat. My legs wrap around him, my thighs burning with tension and need. His fangs graze my shoulder, and before I can think, he bites .

Pain blooms—bright, hot—and I cry out, my voice cracking through the woods.

But underneath the pain? A sharp spark of euphoria.

My nails dig into his back. I bite him back, fangs extended, sinking deep into his shoulder. He hisses, but it turns into a growl that shakes the earth beneath us.

Then he pins me—completely—his weight over mine, his breath hot against my ear.

He finds the hollow between my neck and collarbone and bites. Hard.

I scream.

The pain is white-hot. My body arches off the ground as he holds me down, the sensation fracturing me into fire and lightning. It feels like war—like love waging a battle inside my veins. My pulse goes erratic. The sky spins.

"Please," I gasp. Not from weakness—but from power barely held in check.

He pauses. Breath ragged.

And in that small hesitation, I flip him again.

I smile— triumphant , wild , holy .

Straddling him now, I slide my slick folds slowly along the length of his stomach. The friction makes my head tilt back, my hands bracing against his chest as I savor every pulse of heat, every twitch of arousal.

I curl my hand around his throat, fingers tightening just enough to feel the flutter of his pulse. My nails extend, gently piercing the skin, and his glowing eyes widen—not in fear, but in awe.

"Let Mommy take care of her baby," I whisper against his lips.

He shudders.

I lick the side of his face, slow and deliberate. He growls, low and reverent. I bite his lip next, drawing blood, and as it spills—thick and hot—I moan, tasting power, tasting him .

And then it happens.

My body begins to change . My skin glows—white-gold veins lighting up beneath the surface. His does too, but darker, red like the embers of a dying star. His eyes go black with rings of crimson, and his form shifts beneath me—broader, hotter, harder.

And he’s so big now . I gasp as I feel the full weight of it pressed against me.

But I’ve grown too. I didn’t even notice—until now.

Until I feel us click into place like we were built for this moment.

"Do you want me to take care of you, baby?" I whisper again, this time with a smile laced in divinity.

I rise over him, hovering just long enough for our eyes to lock—his eyes glowing with hunger, mine with command.

Then i rape my fingers around his thick Length, I sink down.

He fills me so deeply, so completely, that my breath catches, my nails dragging down his chest. I feel every vein, every inch, as he stretches me open, pressing into the deepest parts of me until my body trembles around him.

His hands shoot up to my waist, holding me still. Then—he moves.

Pulls out. Slams back in.

Again. And again.

Each thrust is a collision of stars. A clash of gods.

He begins to lift me with each thrust, controlling the motion, making me rise and fall in time with him. I moan— loud, broken, sacred —as the pressure builds. As my body molds to his, perfectly.

He growls. I whimper.

He slams up into me again, and this time, lightning cracks through the sky.

We don’t notice. We don’t care.

Because we are no longer on the forest floor.

We are above it. Beyond it.

Locked in a rhythm older than time, written in blood, bound by fire. The storm around us howls, and somewhere—far away—a tornado spins its fury across the horizon.

But it doesn’t touch us. It can’t.

Because we are the storm.

And we have merged .

We both came undone.

The world around us—once consumed by a storm that howled like the gods were arguing—had softened into something manageable. The wind, once vengeful, now only tugged gently at the leaves. The rain had thinned, whispering instead of roaring, pattering down on the forest canopy above in a soothing lullaby.

And we… we just lay there.

Bodies tangled, skin cooling, nerves still tingling, stretched thin like silver thread.

I lay sprawled over Catra’s chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat a grounding drum beneath my cheek. He hadn't shifted back yet. His chest was still covered in that thick, silvery wolf-fur, soft and oddly calming. I ran my fingers through it absently, like it was something I’d always known, always done.

Despite the fact that we were literally lying half-naked on the broken remains of a tree we'd destroyed with our sheer… enthusiasm, it felt weirdly wholesome . Like we'd just come back from a long hike or made out in a thunderstorm on a dare.

My skin still hummed with life. I could feel the new magic—mine—shimmering faintly beneath the surface, a glow laced through my veins like moonlight trapped in glass. My fingertips pulsed with energy, and every time I looked at Catra, I felt it mirror back at me.

Then, breaking the hush that had settled like fog, he laughed.

Loud. Rough. Completely unapologetic.

I blinked at him, confused until he wheezed out—between fits of laughter—

"‘Let Mommy take care of her baby,’” he mimicked, his voice going mock-soft in the most outrageously inappropriate way.

I blinked once. Then I realized what he was quoting.

And flushed a shade of red I was pretty sure hadn't even been invented yet.

“Oh my GOD, shut up,” I groaned, slapping his chest as he kept laughing, unbothered by my embarrassment.

“I don’t know why I said it!” I added, trying to push him off me. “It was like—heat of the moment. I blacked out. I hate you.”

He laughed harder.

“i definitely didn’t hate it,” he said, yanking me back down and kissing me full on the mouth before I could escape.

I shoved at him again—playfully—but his grin was unstoppable.

“Look,” he said, pulling back with a smirk. “All I’m saying is, if I had known that unlocking ancient divine power meant discovering your Mommy kink, I would’ve accelerated this process weeks ago.”

I groaned and buried my face in his shoulder. “You don’t take anything seriously,” I muttered.

“And yet, you still chose me. Hmm.” He stretched like a cat, arms above his head, hair damp and curling over his forehead. He looked maddeningly smug. And of course, still gorgeous.

I rolled my eyes. “Your ego is astronomical .”

He grinned wider. “Compared to you? Little Miss Sunbeam, Light of the World, Warrior Princess? Come on. I’m just trying to keep up.”

I snorted despite myself. Then we went quiet again.

Just… laying there. Letting the rain fall around us.

The forest had gone soft again. No thunder. No energy crackling like it had been waiting for us to combust.

For a moment, we just existed.

But of course, I couldn’t stay quiet forever.

“I feel the same,” I said finally. “But… also not. It’s like—everything is intact, but now I can feel the seams of the universe. Like I’m aware of how breakable it all is. How powerful I am now. But I still feel… ordinary.”

Catra nodded beneath me.

I wasn’t sure he was listening until he reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, eyes still on the sky.

“And I start school in, like, a week,” I added flatly.

He cracked one eye open. “That’s the real tragedy.”

“I’m serious.”

“You’ve literally merged with ancient celestial entities, adora, come on and now you're worried about orientation week?”

I smacked him again, but I laughed too. “It’s not just that,” I said. “It’s you. I’m supposed to go off and study and act like I’m normal, and now—now I’m not. And I don’t want to leave you behind.”

Catra turned his head toward me. His gaze softened, just a little.

“You’re not leaving me behind,” he said. “We’re them now. That’s the point. You're still you, just… more. You’re not leaving me. You’re living.”

I swallowed hard.

“Promise?”

He reached up, thumb brushing under my chin, and smiled—just barely.

“Promise. I’ll be here. Wreaking havoc. Looking hot. Possibly adopting feral forest children.”

“You mean raccoons.”

“I meant what I said.”

I laughed and collapsed back onto his chest, cheek pressed to warm fur, his heartbeat still steady beneath me.

The rain kept falling.

And somewhere, deep in the earth, magic pulsed—quiet, waiting.

But for now… we rested.

–  

The screen glowed dimly in the dusky room, casting long, fractured shadows across Carter's face. His fingers drummed against the table, tension knotted across his jawline as the voice on the call spoke with the smooth, measured cadence of someone who knew how power worked —and how quickly it could unravel.

“Carter… he killed those five men.”

The pause that followed was deliberate. Heavy. A warning.

“By the time they reached us, they were already dead. Efficient. Clean. Ripped apart, but… not messily. As if they never had a chance to fight back. We trust you understand how this is going to play out.”

Carter’s hand tightened around his pen, snapping it clean in half without realizing.

“We need to bring him in—talk to him. Contain him. Figure out what the hell happened before this gets any worse.”

The voice on the other end grew colder.

“There are parents demanding he be removed from Half Moon. Off the grounds entirely. Some are calling for him to be detained. Others… want him put down. ”

Carter exhaled slowly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Look, we—”

He never got to finish.

Because the room shifted as he looked through the phone screen .

No sound—just the presence of something wrong .

Everyone turned, like marionettes pulled by the same invisible string, eyes drawn to the window in eerie unison. Chairs scraped back. Glasses clinked. Even Lucas, who'd been silent and skeptical all meeting, froze mid-sentence.

“What’s happening?” Carter asked instinctively.

Lucas mirrored the question to someone else in his space—his voice tight, the air sucked out of it.

The tension reached its apex when Carter rose from his chair, crossing the room in three long strides. He stepped outside, into the humid night air—and saw it.

There, nestled at the base of the stone steps, stood the ancient spirit wolf statue. A monolith of smooth obsidian, carved long before the first settlers claimed the land. It had never moved. Never shifted. It was only a symbol.

Until now.

Because now… it was glowing.

From the inside.

Its eyes, once dull as coal, shimmered with vibrant, lethal violet—the hue of Lykira’s core crystal, an ancient relic lost in myth. The light pulsed like a heartbeat. Like breath.

The wolf was watching .

And not just here.

Lucas’s voice crackled through the call.

“We’re seeing it too. It’s happening. The other statues… they’re responding the same way.”

A chill wrapped around Carter’s spine.

He didn’t wait. He ended the call and ran.

Thoughts scattered, questions blooming faster than he could process, each one worse than the last.

Find Catra.

That was the only thought that stuck.

He pushed through hallways, past guards, past startled interns who looked up with wide eyes as he stormed through like he was chasing death itself.

The Spirit Wolves.

They weren’t just ceremonial. They weren’t just spiritual guides. That had always been the story the Council liked to tell the public—a myth. A bedtime tale.

But Carter had read the unredacted lore. The banned scrolls. The sealed cases. The old translations where the ink bled into parchment like the words were still alive.

The wolves weren’t symbols.

They were warnings .

Living vessels. Guardians and executioners.

According to legend, only one could awaken in a generation. One host. One soul bonded with it through rite, blood, or birth.

But what if the legend was wrong?

What if there were two?

Catra. His power had been growing for months—so subtly at first. Subtle in that way only danger can be when it wears a human shape. But Carter had seen the shift. The way the other wolves deferred to him, unconsciously. How his aura could dominate a room even without speaking.

And then there was Adora.

Everyone had assumed she was the one bonded to the wolf. It made sense. The light. The strength. The prophecy. Her connection to Aluna. The Council practically bent over backward to make the narrative fit.

No one had thought to ask the harder question.

What if they were both bonded?

What if the spirit wolf had two halves —just like the lore whispered in fragmented translations:

“Where fire meets fury, and the storm does not choose a side, there lies the twin-souled beast—one light, one dark—devourer of kings, and the storm to end all bloodlines.”

Carter’s breath hitched.

He was chasing a living myth. One half light. One half shadow.

And if they merged completely…

The world would never be the same.