Knotting His Rejected Breeder

The priestess remained still, staring at Destiny’s open palm.

Destiny held her breath, waiting for a gasp of horror or an order to stay back. Instead, the woman seemed interested only in the black stone. She turned it toward the torchlight, inspecting the spot where Destiny’s blood had touched it.

The blood had disappeared into the surface.

"Am I supposed to be worried right now?" Destiny asked, her voice small in the cold cavern.

The priestess tightened her grip on the stone. "No. If the curse had transferred to your blood, then within three heartbeats you would already be on the floor, shaking."

Destiny looked down at her hand and flexed her fingers.

Nothing.

No burning. No strange sensation crawling beneath her skin. She could still feel the sting from the cut in her palm, but that was all.

"I don’t feel anything. No burning. No hallucinations."

"I know."

The priestess reached toward her, then stopped. Her attention shifted toward the stone bench.

Destiny followed her gaze.

A rough breath escaped Dane.

One of the thick black lines beneath his skin shifted, trembled, and slowly faded into nothing. Destiny stared as another dark vein near his neck disappeared, leaving his skin clear.

She had watched those marks spread across his body. She had watched them grow darker while he fought against the curse. Seeing them disappear now felt almost impossible to believe.

Henrik, who had been leaning against the wall with both hands resting on the pommel of his broadsword, straightened.

"Well, that’s definitely better than the slow and painful death we’ve been watching since he got bitten."

The priestess ignored him. She hurried past Destiny and pressed two fingers against the side of Dane’s neck.

"His pulse is slowing down. It’s becoming normal."

Destiny moved closer.

The dark marks covering Dane’s forearm were fading too. One disappeared, then another, until there was nothing left but his normal skin.

Henrik let out a low whistle.

"That’s it, Dane. You fight like hell and save me from that embarrassing eulogy."

Destiny almost smiled, but she couldn’t quite manage it. She was too focused on Dane.

"Is it working?" she asked. "Is he getting better?"

"Yes," the priestess said quietly. "I think he is."

Destiny let out the breath she had been holding.

She hadn’t known what would happen when she put her bleeding hand against the stone. She had only known that doing nothing meant watching Dane die. Even now, with the curse disappearing from his body, she couldn’t stop wondering whether she had simply traded one danger for another.

Before she could ask, heavy footsteps echoed from the passage.

Hannah entered the temple first, with Ramon and Sonia right behind her.

Sonia rushed straight to the bench.

"What happened? What was that noise?"

"He’s getting better," the priestess said, stepping aside.

Sonia stopped.

Destiny watched her stare at Dane as though she was afraid to believe what she was seeing. Then Sonia reached down and pressed a trembling hand against his cheek.

"Dane?"

His fingers moved.

"...Mom?"

Sonia let out a broken sob.

"Yes. I’m right here."

Dane squinted against the torchlight. His eyes moved around the room before settling on Destiny.

The haze that had been in his eyes earlier was gone.

"Destiny," he said, his voice weak. "You’re hurt. What happened?"

Destiny closed her fingers over her left hand.

"It’s nothing. Just a slice in my palm to draw my blood."

Dane’s eyes dropped to her bandaged hand.

"You cut yourself?"

"It’s not a big deal."

A faint smile touched his face before he groaned and pushed himself up on his elbows.

Ramon immediately placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Stay down, son. Don’t push yourself."

"I feel fine."

"You were unconscious and thrashing ten minutes ago," Hannah said.

"Ten minutes?" Dane frowned. "It felt like days."

Destiny studied his face.

There was no confusion in his eyes now. No sign of the panic she’d seen before. He looked tired, but he looked like Dane.

He glanced toward Henrik.

Henrik offered a small grin. "If you were out of commission even for a day, I think your father would’ve torn this temple apart."

"What? I’m completely calm," Ramon said, casting him a warning glance.

Henrik raised his hands in mock surrender. "Of course you are, Chief."

Dane’s smile faded as his hand went to his neck. He touched the skin where the black veins had been.

His fingers stayed there for several seconds.

"The curse..." he said.

Destiny watched his expression change.

"It’s gone."

The priestess stepped closer. "Tell me what you feel."

"Nothing. No more pain. The pressure behind my eyes is gone, too."

"And the voices? The clouding in your mind?"

"Gone. All of it."

Dane pushed his sleeves up, checking his clear wrists before looking back at the room.

Destiny could see the disbelief on his face. He kept turning his arms over as though he expected the marks to appear again.

"How did this stop?"

The priestess pointed at the stone on the table.

"Her blood. She cut her palm and touched the Heart Stone. The moment it did, the marks began disappearing."

Dane looked at Destiny.

"Why?"

The priestess shook her head.

"I don’t know. I thought the curse would leave you and enter her. But it didn’t transfer."

She turned toward Destiny.

"Whatever your blood did, it removed the rotten curse from his body completely."

Destiny stared at her.

"So... I cured him?"

"So it seems."

The words should have made her happy.

Instead, they left her staring at her own hand.

Cured him.

That sounded simple. Almost too simple.

She had cut her palm, touched the stone, and somehow removed something that had been killing him. But nobody in the room seemed to understand why. Not the priestess. Not Dane. Not even Destiny.

Dane swung his legs over the side of the bench.

Ramon reached for him, but Dane gently pushed his steadying hand away.

"I can stand."

"You were unconscious a moment ago."

"I said I can stand."

Dane planted his feet on the ground and slowly stood.

He wobbled for a brief second.

Destiny instinctively stepped forward, but Ramon was already reaching for him. Dane caught the edge of the bench, took a deep breath, and straightened.

He waited.

Nothing happened.

He took another breath and stepped away from the bench.

Destiny watched him closely.

He walked toward her.

When he stopped in front of her, his expression softened.

"Thank you."

"Don’t thank me. I didn’t know what I was doing."

"You still took the risk."

Destiny opened her mouth to speak, but a sudden memory cut through her thoughts.

The ritual chamber.

The smell of blood.

Garron’s cleaver.

His certainty.

We need her heart.

Her stomach tightened.

She turned abruptly to the priestess.

"If my blood was enough to stop the curse, why did Garron say they needed my heart? He was going to cut me open. He was certain."

"I don’t know," the priestess said.

Dane rubbed his face.

"Maybe he was wrong. When I was sick, I couldn’t trust what I saw or heard. If Garron lived with the curse for years..."

Henrik leaned heavily on his broadsword.

"He might have lost his mind completely."

"He could have believed a lie," Dane added.

Destiny looked between them.

"But he knew exactly what he was doing."

"He thought he did," Dane said.

The priestess nodded slowly. "It could have been an old story. A misunderstood prophecy, or a hallucination he took as truth. When the curse sits in a mind for that long, truth and delusion blur."

Destiny didn’t like that answer.

It was too easy.

Garron hadn’t looked confused when he’d spoken about her heart. He had been convinced. He had planned everything around it.

"Whether it was a hallucination or an old story doesn’t change what happened," Dane said, looking toward the dark passage outside. "He believed it enough to kill for it."

Destiny followed his gaze.

Beyond the temple entrance, the passage disappeared into darkness. She could still picture Garron standing there, cleaver in hand, completely certain that killing her was the answer.

Her palm began to sting beneath the bandage.

She looked down at it.

What exactly had her blood done?

Before she could voice the question, Hannah stepped forward.

"What about the others in the valley? His pack?"

"The Hollowfangs," the priestess said.

Ramon straightened.

"You know about them?"

"Only stories," the priestess replied, gesturing toward the stone. "They have carried the Hollow Death for generations. Some say a rogue witch cursed their First Alpha. Others say it was punishment for betraying the moon or destroying a sacred bloodline. Most of those stories were built from fear. Nobody knows the whole truth."

Dane walked back to the table, staring at the stone.

"Then we can’t assume my recovery means there’s an easy cure for the rest of them."

"No," the priestess agreed. "We can’t."

Dane glanced at his arms.

"So we don’t know if Destiny’s blood would work on anyone else."

"We don’t even know why it worked on you," the priestess said.

That silenced him.

Destiny felt the same uneasiness settle in her chest.

They had one success.

One person cured.

Hannah folded her arms. "Then we need answers before anyone tries this again."

"Yes," the priestess said. "Especially because Destiny is still a target."

Ramon’s expression hardened.

The priestess picked up the Heart Stone once more, studying it under the torchlight.

"Destiny is still a target, and she makes us targets as well. I still don’t know why the stone reacted to your blood, but we need to keep you safe, Luna."

Destiny looked down at her bandaged palm.

The relief of saving Dane was already twisting into a cold, new uncertainty.

They had saved him.

But they had no idea what her blood had just made her.

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