Dawn bled slowly across the city — pale gold filtering through the curtains, soft against marble floors.
The penthouse was quiet, too quiet, except for the muted sound of cloth rustling.
Sky stood before the mirror, tugging on his shirt with careful movements. The faint scar near his collarbone was almost gone now, but the mark over his heart still glowed faintly — silver veins threading beneath the skin, pulsing to a rhythm he didn't want to recognize.
He adjusted his cuffs. Straightened his jacket.
He needed to leave before the weight of the silence smothered him.
Behind him, the faint sound of a door opening. No footsteps. Just a shift in air pressure — a soft whisper of presence that made every hair on his arms rise.
"You shouldn't be moving yet," came that familiar voice — smooth, low, threaded with quiet command.
Sky's gaze flicked up to the mirror. Nani stood by the doorway, dressed immaculately as always — dark suit, open collar, no expression. Only those golden eyes betrayed anything human, their light dim but watching him with something too careful to be indifference.
"I heal fast," Sky said without turning fully. "And I don't like being a burden."
"You weren't," Nani replied simply. "You were dying."
"That's dramatic."
"Accurate," Nani countered, stepping closer. "You shouldn't be alone. Not now."
Sky finally turned, jaw tightening. "With all due respect, sir, I'm not yours to command."
The silence that followed cracked something fragile in the air.
Nani's gaze darkened, a quiet storm behind restraint.
"Do you even understand what you've done?" he said, softer this time. "You bled in front of them. The creature, they're hunters— they've tasted you now. Every packs will feel that call. Every clans will want to find the Guardian before I do."
Sky froze, pulse quickening.
"You shouldn't know that word."
Nani's lips curved, but not with humor. "I've lived long enough to remember what your kind once were."
His gaze drifted — to Sky's chest, to the faint glow beneath the fabric. "And what happens when they awaken."
Sky exhaled through his nose, a low, frustrated sound. "Then you should understand why I need to go."
Nani's head tilted slightly. "You think you can protect others when you can barely stand?"
"I don't think," Sky said. "It's what I am."
Something ancient flickered in Nani's eyes — admiration, irritation, maybe something far more dangerous.
Nani moved closer — a quiet, deliberate step that seemed to draw the air out of the room.
The faint chill that always followed him curled against Sky's skin, mingling with the lingering warmth of dawn.
He smelled of old rain and iron and something faintly floral — roses left too long in shadow.
Sky's breath hitched, though he refused to step back.
Then, without a word, Nani lifted a hand — pale fingers ghosting up the line of Sky's throat, stopping just beneath his hairline. The touch was feather-light, reverent even, but it carried the weight of centuries behind it.
Sky froze, the instinct to pull away clashing with something far older — the part of him that recognized the touch.
A whisper of power bloomed where their skin met.
It wasn't gentle. It burned — a searing rush of warmth spreading under his skin like molten silver.
Sky gasped, hand gripping the edge of the table for balance. His knees almost buckled as his mark — the one over his heart — flared in response, glowing through the thin fabric of his shirt.
The world blurred for a second.
He could feel Nani's power — cold, ancient, infinite — threading through him like smoke weaving through flame. His pulse stumbled, syncing to a rhythm that wasn't entirely his own.
The mark on his neck pulsed once, then cooled, leaving behind a faint pattern — a crescent intertwined with a blood-red sigil, gold glimmering faintly beneath.
Sky's breath came ragged. "What did you—"
"A ward," Nani murmured. His voice was velvet, low and commanding, but his eyes — his eyes had softened. "My sigil. It will mask your scent — and protect you from being tracked by what hunts you."
"I didn't ask for it," Sky said, though his voice trembled, caught between anger and something he couldn't name.
"No," Nani replied, leaning in — close enough that his breath brushed Sky's ear, cool and steady. "But I don't need your permission to keep you alive."
Sky swallowed, the air thick between them. His pulse hammered against the mark on his chest, aching in time with the one Nani had just placed.
The energy between them crackled, heavy, dangerous.
He turned sharply, forcing a breath through clenched teeth. "Don't mark me like I'm yours."
Nani's expression didn't change, but something dark flickered in his gaze. His next words came low — a whisper edged in ancient power.
"Then don't make me act like you are."
For a long moment, neither moved. The air hummed, charged with the echo of something older than language — the blood curse thrumming through both of them, restless, alive.
Then, suddenly—
Sky's head snapped up.
A sound — faint but sharp — threaded through the silence. It wasn't in his ears. It was inside him.
A call. A plea.
The cry of wolves — desperate, dying.
His mark pulsed bright silver.
He staggered, clutching his chest. "Someone's calling."
Nani's eyes narrowed. "A wolf?"
Sky nodded once, his jaw tight. "A pack. Maybe rogues. They're being slaughtered."
He took a step toward the door, but Nani blocked him with a single move — fast, precise, absolute.
"You're not ready," he said quietly.
"I can't ignore it," Sky snapped.
"You'll die if you go."
"Then it'll be my choice!"
The growl in Sky's voice wasn't human. The faint flare of gold in his eyes made Nani's own darken in response.
Something primal in both of them stirred — wolf and vampire, moonlight and blood — drawn and divided by the same curse.
For a heartbeat, Nani said nothing. Then, in a breath that sounded more like surrender than command, he whispered,
"Fine."
He reached out again, hand pressing flat against Sky's back — right over the spine. The sigil flared once more, hot and alive, sending a shiver through Sky's entire body.
The power that sank into him this time wasn't burning — it was steady, grounding, anchoring. Like a thread of Nani's essence buried deep within him.
Sky gasped, feeling it — the way it linked their energies.
"Stop—"
But Nani's voice was a murmur against his skin.
"Let it bind. So I can find you when you fall."
The words sent a chill through him, more intimate than any touch.
When Sky turned, breathless and flushed, Nani's expression was unreadable — calm mask intact, only the faint tremor in his jaw betraying restraint.
Sky tore his gaze away, grabbed his jacket, and headed for the elevator without another word.
As the doors slid shut between them, Nani remained still — the light from the rising sun catching the faint shimmer on his hand.
He flexed his fingers slowly, as though the warmth of Sky's skin still lingered there.
"Run if you must, Guardian," he murmured to the empty room.
"But every mark burns both ways."
And high above the city, two sigils — one gold, one crimson — pulsed in unison beneath separate skins.
The curse had awakened.
And neither of them could run from it anymore.