The fire had burned low again, embers glowing like dying stars beneath a mantle of ash. My neck throbbed where Kaelen had bitten me—deep, claiming, real—but the pain was distant, muffled beneath the roaring in my ears. The mark was warm, pulsing with something I couldn’t name. Not just magic. Not just bond. Truth.
The silver chain was gone. Shattered into dust when he marked me. The Contract had screamed—like it was dying—and then fallen silent. But I knew better than to believe it was over. Cassian was still standing, his face pale, his hands clenched into fists. He hadn’t fought. Hadn’t cast. But his eyes—cold, calculating—told me everything.
This wasn’t the end.
It was just the beginning.
Kaelen’s arm was around my waist, solid, unyielding, pulling me close. His scent—pine, smoke, something wild beneath—wrapped around me, thick, intoxicating. My body still hummed from the bite, from the way his fangs had pierced my skin, from the way my magic had flared in response, wild and uncontrolled.
And yet—
I didn’t feel trapped.
I felt… found.
“We should go,” Kaelen said, voice low, rough. “Before he tries something else.”
I nodded, but my legs were weak. The bond-heat had torn through me under Cassian’s spell, amplified by the Contract’s punishment. My veins still burned, my muscles ached, my breath came in shallow gasps. I leaned into Kaelen, letting him carry some of my weight.
Cassian stepped forward, his voice smooth as poisoned honey. “You think this changes anything? You think a bite erases centuries of law? She’s still a challenger. You’re still bound by duty. And the Council will not tolerate this… display.”
Kaelen didn’t turn. Didn’t flinch. “The Council can burn for all I care. And you?” He finally looked at Cassian, his golden eyes blazing. “You’re done. No more lies. No more games. If you come near her again, I’ll kill you.”
Cassian’s lips curled. “You can’t exile me. I’m Council.”
“Then I’ll make you wish you were,” Kaelen said, stepping forward, his presence a physical weight in the chamber. “You used the Contract to enslave hybrids. To erase bloodlines. To steal magic. And now?” He glanced at me. “Now it’s broken. And you’ve lost.”
“It’s not broken,” Cassian hissed. “It’s evolving. And it will find a way to reclaim what’s been taken.”
My breath caught.
Because he was right.
The Contract wasn’t just paper and ink. It was alive. It had rewritten itself before. It would do it again.
And if it wanted me back—
It would come for me.
Kaelen pulled me toward the door. “We’re leaving.”
I didn’t argue. I followed, my boots silent on the bloodstained stone. The guards didn’t stop us. They didn’t even look at us. They just stepped aside, their eyes down, their spears lowered.
We moved through the corridors, the torchlight flickering against the walls. The Court was quiet now—no whispers, no footsteps, no guards. As if the entire place was holding its breath.
When we reached the suite, Kaelen barred the door behind us. The fire was out. The room was cold. But I was burning.
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “Sit.”
“I’m fine,” I said, but my knees buckled. He caught me before I fell, lifting me onto the bed.
“You’re not fine,” he said, kneeling beside me. “You’re in shock. The bite—it’s more than a mark. It’s a claim. A bond. It’s rewriting your magic.”
“I know,” I whispered, touching the mark. It was warm, raised, glowing faintly beneath my fingers. “I can feel it. Like something’s waking up inside me.”
He studied my face. “What do you feel?”
“Pain,” I admitted. “Heat. But also—” I hesitated. “Clarity. Like a fog’s lifting. Like I can finally see.”
He reached for my wrist—the one that had borne the chain. His fingers were warm, calloused. He pressed his thumb to the spot where the silver had burned into my skin. A jolt of heat. A pulse of connection.
“The bond is stronger now,” he said. “Not because of the Contract. Because of the claim. Because you’re mine.”
My breath caught.
“You don’t have to say that,” I said. “You don’t have to pretend this was your choice.”
“It wasn’t,” he said. “Cassian forced it. The Contract demanded it. But that doesn’t change the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
He leaned closer, his breath hot on my skin. “That I wanted it. That I’ve wanted to claim you since the moment we were bound. That every time you fought me, I wanted to pin you down and make you stop. That every time you looked at me like I was a monster, I wanted to prove you wrong.”
My heart hammered.
“And now?” I whispered.
“Now,” he said, his thumb brushing the mark on my neck, “you’re not fighting me anymore. And I’m not letting you go.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what to say.
Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
He stood, moving to the hearth. He lit the fire with a snap of his fingers—no spell, no magic, just will. The flames roared to life, casting long shadows across the room.
“You should rest,” he said. “The bond will stabilize overnight. But until then, you’ll be vulnerable. Magic surges. Hallucinations. Pain.”
“I’ve survived worse,” I said.
“Not alone,” he said, turning to me. “Not this time.”
I looked at him—really looked at him. The cold, ruthless Alpha. The man who had signed the Contract under duress. The predator who had kissed me like I was the only thing worth hunting.
And I realized—
I didn’t hate him.
I never had.
I just hadn’t known what to call the thing burning in my chest.
“I need to know the truth,” I said. “About my mother. About the Contract. About why it chose me.”
He didn’t answer at first. Just stared at the fire, his jaw tight, his eyes reflecting the flames.
Then, slowly, he said, “There’s a way to see it. To know it. But it’s dangerous.”
“So is ignorance,” I said. “Tell me.”
He turned to me. “Blood memory. A witch’s spell. You use your blood to access a memory trapped in magic. But it’s not just seeing. It’s feeling. Living it. And if the memory is strong enough, it can trap you.”
“Then I’ll be careful,” I said.
“No,” he said. “I’ll do it. I’ll be the vessel. You guide me. You pull me back if it gets too deep.”
My breath caught. “You’d do that? Risk your mind for me?”
“I already have,” he said. “The bite. The claim. The bond. I’m not stopping now.”
I stared at him. The man who had been my enemy. My captor. My jailer.
And now?
Now he was offering to walk into the fire for me.
“Then let’s do it,” I said.
—
We sat across from each other on the floor, the fire crackling between us. I took a dagger from the weapons wall—Kaelen’s dagger, the one with the wolf sigil on the hilt. I pressed the blade to my palm, drawing a single drop of blood. It welled, dark and rich, glowing faintly with magic.
Kaelen did the same, slicing his palm with the edge of his claw. His blood was darker, thicker, alive with power.
“Our blood,” I said, voice low. “Our bond. Our truth.”
I pressed my palm to his, our blood mingling, the air between us shimmering. I closed my eyes and began to chant—words in a language I didn’t know, ancient, guttural, pulled from some deep well inside me.
The fire flared.
The room blurred.
And then—
Memory.
Not mine.
A chamber. Cold stone. The Contract on a pedestal. My mother—older than in the visions, her hair streaked with silver, her eyes filled with desperation—kneeling before Kaelen. He’s younger, but still lethal, his golden eyes blazing with fury. A dagger at his throat. Cassian standing behind him, his hand on the hilt.
“Sign,” Cassian hisses. “Or your pack dies. One by one. Starting with the pups.”
Kaelen’s hand trembles. He reaches for the quill. The ink is black. The signature forged under duress.
But then—
My mother steps forward. “Wait.”
Cassian turns. “You dare speak?”
“I dare,” she says, her voice steady. “You want him to sign? Then let me bind it. Let me weave my blood into the oath. Let me make it unbreakable.”
Cassian smirks. “And why would I allow that?”
“Because,” she says, “if you don’t, I’ll curse it. I’ll make it a prison. A trap. And the one who signs it will never be free.”
He hesitates. Then nods. “Do it.”
She cuts her palm, pressing it to the parchment. Blood spreads across the page, glowing silver. Words form—ancient, powerful. And then—
She looks at Kaelen. “I’m sorry,” she whispers. “But the Contract must be broken. And it will be. By my blood. By my daughter.”
He stares at her. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because,” she says, “the one who signs it will be bound to the one who breaks it. And when she comes, she’ll have to choose. To destroy you? Or to save you.”
And then—
She presses her blood to his wrist. A mark forms—faint, silver, hidden beneath his skin. A sigil. A promise.
“She’ll find it,” she says. “And when she does, she’ll know the truth.”
“What truth?” he asks.
“That love,” she says, “is the only magic strong enough to break a curse.”
The vision shifts.
My mother, years later, in a small cottage. Me as a child, sleeping in a crib. She presses a locket to my chest—my locket. “You’ll find him,” she whispers. “And when you do, don’t hate him. Don’t destroy him. Claim him. Because only then will you be free.”
And then—
Darkness.
Chains.
Her voice, faint, broken. “I’m sorry, Blair. I’m so sorry.”
I gasped, jerking back, my hand ripping from Kaelen’s. My chest heaved. My vision blurred. Tears burned my eyes.
“Blair,” Kaelen said, his voice rough, his eyes wide. “What did you see?”
I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t move. The truth was too heavy, too raw, too real.
My mother hadn’t just been a victim.
She’d been the architect.
She’d bound Kaelen to me. Not to enslave him. Not to punish him.
To save him.
And she’d known—
She’d known I would have to choose.
And I had.
Not to destroy him.
But to claim him.
“You saw it,” Kaelen said, his voice quiet. “The mark. On my wrist.”
I looked at him. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the inside of his wrist. There, faint but unmistakable, was a silver sigil—the same one on my locket.
“I’ve had it for years,” he said. “I didn’t know what it meant. I thought it was a scar. A reminder of the night I signed.”
“It’s not a scar,” I whispered. “It’s a promise.”
He looked at me, his golden eyes filled with something I couldn’t name. Not regret. Not guilt.
Hope.
“She didn’t want me to die,” he said. “She wanted me to be saved.”
“By me,” I said.
“By love,” he said.
Tears spilled down my cheeks. Not from pain. Not from grief.
From the unbearable weight of being chosen.
“I came here to destroy the Contract,” I said, my voice breaking. “To expose the truth. To free my mother’s name.”
“And you did,” he said. “But the truth wasn’t what you thought.”
“No,” I whispered. “The truth was that I was never meant to destroy you. I was meant to save you.”
He reached for me, his hand warm, steady. “Then do it.”
“How?”
“By staying,” he said. “By being mine. By letting me be yours.”
I looked at him—really looked at him. The man who had been my enemy. My captor. My jailer.
And now?
Now he was my salvation.
“I don’t know if I can,” I whispered.
“You already did,” he said. “The bite. The claim. The bond. You chose me, Blair. Even if you didn’t know it.”
I closed my eyes.
And for the first time—
I let myself feel it.
The truth.
Not just in my mind.
But in my heart.
“I came to destroy you,” I said, opening my eyes. “But the Contract had other plans.”
“And what plans were those?” he asked.
I reached for his hand, pressing it to my chest, over my heart. “To make me love you.”
He didn’t speak.
Just pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
And maybe I was.
Because as the fire crackled and the bond pulsed between us—
I knew.
The Contract was broken.
But our story?
That was just beginning.
—
Later, when the fire had burned to embers and the weight of revelation had settled into something quieter, something deeper, Kaelen pulled back just enough to look at me.
“You need to sleep,” he said, voice low. “The bond is still settling. Your body needs rest.”
I nodded, but I didn’t move. My skin still hummed with magic, with the aftermath of the blood memory, with the lingering echo of his bite. I didn’t want to sleep. I wanted to stay awake, to watch him, to make sure this was real.
He stood, offering his hand. “Come on.”
I took it, letting him pull me up. My legs were still weak, but I could walk. He led me to the bed—his bed, our bed, I didn’t know what to call it anymore—and pulled back the heavy gray sheets.
“Get in,” he said.
“You’re not sleeping here,” I said, voice thick with exhaustion.
“No,” he said. “I’m sleeping here.”
My breath caught. “You said—”
“I said I’d take the chair,” he said. “But that was before you were marked. Before the bond was claimed. Now?” He stepped closer, his presence a warm weight in the dark. “Now I’m not leaving your side.”
“You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t have to,” he said. “But I want to.”
I stared at him. The man who had been my enemy. My captor. My jailer.
And now?
Now he was my mate.
And I—
I was his.
I didn’t argue. I climbed into the bed, sliding beneath the sheets. He followed, lying down beside me, but not touching. Just close enough that I could feel the heat of him, the steady rhythm of his breath.
“Don’t flatter yourself,” he muttered, rolling onto his side to face me. “This is for the bond.”
But his voice was rough. And his eyes—golden, fierce—held something else.
Something that felt like a promise.
I closed my eyes.
And for the first time in years—
I didn’t dream of vengeance.
I dreamed of him.