The air in the Fae High Court tasted like old money and older magic—cold marble, gilded lies, and the faint, metallic tang of blood oaths. I stood in the shadow of a Corinthian column, my breath shallow, my fingers curled around the silver locket at my throat. Inside it, a lock of my mother’s hair, preserved in moonlight and salt. A relic. A weapon. A reminder.
Thirty-two years I’d waited for this. Thirty-two years of hiding, training, sharpening my mind like a blade. And now, here I was—Blair, half-fae, half-witch, daughter of a woman erased by the very document I’d come to destroy. The Ancient Contract of Subjugation. The thing that had stolen her magic, her name, her life.
And tonight, I was going to burn it.
The Council Summit was in full swing—fae nobles in shimmering silks, vampires draped in velvet shadows, werewolves prowling the edges like caged predators. The air hummed with power, tension, and the low thrum of forbidden alliances. I adjusted the cuffs of my borrowed Council attendant’s uniform—stolen, forged, perfect. My glamour held, just barely. Half-breeds weren’t welcome here. Not unless they were serving tea or scrubbing floors.
But I wasn’t here to serve.
I was here to end them.
The Contract was kept in the Archive Vault beneath the Council Chamber, sealed behind oath-wards and blood-locks. I’d studied the schematics, memorized the guard rotations, practiced the counter-spells in the dark of Elara’s cottage. All I needed was a moment. A lapse. A breath.
And then I saw him.
Kaelen Vire.
Alpha of the Northern Wolf Packs. Enforcer of the Supernatural Council. The man whose signature—bold, black, unrepentant—had sealed the Contract into law over a century ago.
He stood at the center of the chamber, towering, lethal, his presence a physical weight in the room. Golden eyes, sharp as shattered glass. A jawline carved from ice. His black coat was tailored to perfection, but it couldn’t hide the coiled strength beneath—the predator barely leashed. He had a fae noble pinned to the floor, one hand around his throat, the other gripping a dagger to his temple.
“You broke the pact,” Kaelen said, voice low, rough as gravel. “You know the price.”
The noble whimpered. “I had no choice—”
“There is always a choice,” Kaelen growled. “And you chose betrayal.”
A hush fell over the chamber. Even the vampires stilled. No one challenged Kaelen Vire and lived.
And yet—
My pulse didn’t race with fear.
It raced with recognition.
This was the man who had signed the Contract. The final authority. The last living link to my mother’s suffering. If I could expose him—if I could prove he’d enforced it, benefited from it—then the entire structure would crumble.
I didn’t need to steal the Contract.
I needed to break him.
My fingers twitched at my side. One spell. One well-placed truth-revelation charm, and the whole court would see him for what he was—a monster in a tailored coat.
But I couldn’t act here. Not yet. The wards were too strong. The witnesses too many. I needed the Contract itself. I needed proof.
I slipped away, silent as a shadow, moving through the opulent halls toward the Archive Vault. My heart pounded, but my mind was ice. Calculating. Precise. I disarmed the first ward with a whisper and a drop of blood—my mother’s blood, drawn from the locket. The second ward fell to a sigil I’d carved into my palm. The third—
Flared.
A pulse of silver light erupted from the floor, searing through my boots, up my legs. I stumbled back, but it was too late. The vault door groaned open, and the Contract lay there—ancient parchment, ink still wet in places, as if it were alive.
And it was.
Because the moment I stepped forward, the floor cracked open.
Silver chains—glowing, molten—shot up like vipers, wrapping around my wrist, my ankle, my throat. I gasped, clawing at them, but they burned cold, biting into my skin. I tried to cast, but the magic fizzled in my veins. Something was blocking me. Something older.
And then—
He was there.
Kaelen.
He must have felt the ward break. Must have tracked the surge of magic. One second, the hall was empty. The next, he was in front of me, golden eyes blazing, fangs bared.
“What are you doing?” he snarled.
I tried to speak, but the chain at my throat tightened. I pointed at the Contract, my fingers trembling.
And then—
The chains lurched.
One snapped across the space between us, wrapping around his wrist like a living thing. He roared, trying to tear it free, but it held fast. The parchment on the pedestal shivered. The ink writhed, red and black, like serpents mating.
And then—
A new clause formed.
“Until truth is judged, the signatory and the challenger shall remain bound in proximity, power, and purpose.”
Kaelen and I both looked down.
Our wrists were pressed together, the silver chain fusing our skin. A drop of blood welled from each of us, dripping onto the parchment.
The ink drank it.
And then—silence.
The chains didn’t vanish. They settled. Wrapping around our wrists like a cursed bracelet, warm, pulsing, alive.
I yanked my arm back. “What the f*ck was that?”
Kaelen didn’t answer. He stared at the Contract, his expression unreadable. Then, slowly, he turned to me. His eyes—gold, feral—locked onto mine.
“You triggered it,” he said, voice low. “You’re the challenger.”
“Damn right I am,” I spat. “And that thing—” I pointed at the Contract “—stole my mother’s life. It erased my family. I came here to destroy it.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. “And now you’re bound to me.”
“I’m not bound to you,” I snapped, tugging at the chain. “I’m bound to a piece of paper.”
“Same difference,” he said, stepping closer. “The Contract doesn’t bind lightly. It chooses its players. And it just chose us.”
I could smell him now—pine and smoke, something wild beneath. My skin prickled. My breath hitched. And worse—lower, a slow, insistent heat unfurled in my belly.
No.
This wasn’t attraction. This was the bond. The magic. Some kind of supernatural trick.
But my body didn’t care.
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “You have three days,” he said, voice rough. “Three days to prove you’re not a threat. To prove you’re not here to start a war.”
“I’m not here to start a war,” I said. “I’m here to end one.”
He stepped even closer. The chain between us hummed. My pulse roared in my ears. His scent wrapped around me, thick, intoxicating.
“Then you’d better start talking,” he said. “Because if I think you’re lying—”
He leaned in, his lips almost brushing my ear. “—I’ll lock you in a cell and throw away the key.”
I shivered.
Not from fear.
From something far more dangerous.
“Try it,” I whispered. “And I’ll burn your cell down around you.”
He pulled back, eyes flashing. For a second, I thought he’d hit me. Or kiss me. Or both.
Then he turned, the chain tugging me forward.
“Come on,” he said. “You’re not going anywhere. And neither am I.”
I followed, my mind racing.
I’d come here to destroy the Contract.
Now I was chained to the man who’d signed it.
And the worst part?
My body knew it.
Every step I took beside him sent a jolt through the bond—heat, pressure, a pulse of something dark and hungry. My nipples tightened beneath my uniform. My thighs pressed together, trying to quiet the ache between them.
This wasn’t supposed to happen.
I wasn’t supposed to want him.
But the magic didn’t care about my plans.
It only cared about the truth.
And the truth was—
I’d come to destroy Kaelen Vire.
But the Contract had other ideas.
It had bound us.
And now?
Now, I had three days to prove I wasn’t a threat.
Three days to figure out how to destroy the man I was inexplicably, maddeningly, burning for.
And if I failed?
He’d lock me away.
But I had a feeling the real prison wasn’t made of stone.
It was made of silver.
And it was wrapped around my wrist—pulsing, alive, and hungry for more.