The night air was sharp with frost and pine as I led the patrol through the outer ridges of the Northern Stronghold, my boots silent on the snow-dusted stone. The full moon hung low and heavy in the sky, casting silver light over the crags and pines, turning the world into a dream of shadows and bone-white rock. My wolves moved like ghosts around me—silent, disciplined, lethal. But my mind wasn’t on the perimeter. It wasn’t on the scent of rogue shifters drifting from the eastern border.
It was on her.
Blair.
Even now, miles from the Fae High Court, I could still feel her. Not just the bond—though it pulsed warm and steady beneath my skin, a quiet hum where the silver chain had once burned—but the weight of her presence. The way she’d looked at me in the Blood Cells, her eyes wide with pain and trust. The way she’d whispered, “To make me love you,” like it was both a confession and a surrender.
And the mark.
My mark.
On her neck. Mine. Claimed.
She was asleep when I left, curled beneath the heavy gray sheets of my bed, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, the other resting over her heart. I’d stood in the doorway for a long time, watching the rise and fall of her chest, the way her dark lashes fanned across her cheeks, the faint glow of the bite where it pulsed with magic. I hadn’t touched her. Hadn’t kissed her. Hadn’t even let myself linger too long.
Because if I had?
I wouldn’t have left at all.
“Alpha.”
Riven’s voice cut through the silence, low and measured. He fell into step beside me, his dark vampire eyes scanning the treeline. “You’re distracted.”
“I’m not distracted,” I said, voice flat.
He didn’t argue. Just watched me. “She’s changed you.”
“She hasn’t changed anything.”
“Liar,” he said softly. “You’re softer. Slower. You hesitated tonight when the shadow-wolf broke cover. You used to strike first. Now you watch. You wait.”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
I had hesitated.
Not because I was weak. Not because I doubted.
Because I’d thought of Blair. Of what would happen to her if I fell. If I died. If I left her alone in a world that still wanted her silenced.
And that fear—
It was new.
“She’s not just a mate,” Riven said. “She’s a liability. The Council won’t let this go. Cassian won’t. And if they come for her—”
“They’ll have to go through me,” I said, stopping, turning to face him. “And anyone else who stands with me.”
He studied me. “And if the pack turns on you? If they see her as a threat? A half-breed, a witch, a challenger—”
“Then they’re not my pack,” I said. “Not anymore.”
He didn’t flinch. Just nodded. “You’ve made your choice.”
“I made it the moment I bit her.”
He exhaled, a soft breath in the cold air. “Then you’d better be ready to lose everything for her.”
“I already have,” I said.
And I had.
My control. My distance. My peace.
All of it, gone.
—
We finished the patrol without incident, the wolves returning to their posts, the night settling back into its quiet rhythm. But I didn’t go back to the den. Not yet.
I climbed the highest ridge, where the wind howled through the stone teeth of the mountain, and stood at the edge, looking down at the valley below. My stronghold. My home. A fortress of black stone and iron, lit by torches and the glow of hearth fires. Wolves moved through the courtyards, guards at the gates, healers tending the wounded from last week’s skirmish.
And in the heart of it—
My chambers.
Where she was waiting.
I closed my eyes, letting the wind bite at my face, the cold seep into my bones. I needed this. Needed the silence. The distance. The reminder that I was still Alpha. Still in control.
But the truth?
I wasn’t.
Not since the moment she’d walked into the Fae High Court with fire in her eyes and vengeance in her blood.
“You always come here when you’re thinking.”
The voice was soft. Familiar.
I turned.
Blair stood at the ridge’s edge, wrapped in a thick wolf-fur cloak, her dark hair loose, her cheeks flushed from the cold. She hadn’t made a sound. Hadn’t left a trace. But I’d known she was coming.
Because the bond had hummed the moment she stepped outside.
“You shouldn’t be out here,” I said, voice rough. “It’s not safe.”
“Neither is your mind,” she said, stepping closer. “Not when you’re this quiet.”
I didn’t answer.
She stopped beside me, looking out over the valley. “It’s beautiful,” she whispered. “Your home. Your pack. It’s… alive.”
“It’s a war camp,” I said. “Always has been. Always will be.”
“Not anymore,” she said, turning to me. “Not if you’re going to rule with me.”
My breath caught.
“You don’t know what you’re asking,” I said.
“I do,” she said. “I’m asking you to stop pretending you don’t want this. To stop pretending you don’t want me.”
“I never said I didn’t,” I said, my voice low. “I said it was dangerous. That you’re a target. That Cassian won’t stop. That the Council will tear us apart if they think we’re a threat.”
“Then let them try,” she said, stepping into my space. “You think I came this far to run now? To hide? I’ve spent my life being afraid. Being small. Being silent. And for what? So the powerful could keep taking? So they could keep lying?” She reached up, her fingers brushing the mark on my neck—the one she’d left when she’d bitten me during the fight in the training yard. It was faint now, almost healed. But I hadn’t let it fade. I’d kept it. As a reminder.
“You kept it,” she whispered.
“I did,” I said.
“Why?”
“Because it was the first time you didn’t fight me,” I said. “The first time you took what you wanted.”
Her breath hitched.
And then—
She kissed me.
Not soft. Not slow.
Hard.
Her hands fisted in my coat, pulling me down to her. Her mouth crashed onto mine, hot, demanding, possessive. A growl rumbled in my chest, vibrating through my bones. My arms wrapped around her, lifting her slightly, pressing her against me. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive.
And then—
She pulled back.
“Don’t shut me out,” she said, her voice breaking. “Not now. Not after everything. I saw the memory. I know why you signed the Contract. I know you were trying to protect your pack. I know you didn’t want power. You wanted peace.”
My chest tightened.
“And I want it too,” she said. “But not at the cost of truth. Not at the cost of love. Not at the cost of us.”
I stared at her.
And for the first time—
I let myself say it.
“I didn’t sign it to gain power,” I said, my voice rough. “I signed it to stop a war. Cassian threatened to slaughter my pack—my pups, my elders, my healers—if I didn’t. He said the fae would burn the Stronghold to ash. And I believed him.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just waited.
“So I signed,” I said. “And the moment I did, I knew I’d been used. The Contract wasn’t about peace. It was about control. About erasing hybrids. About feeding on their magic. And I—” My voice broke. “—I became the weapon they used to do it.”
“You didn’t know,” she said.
“I should have,” I said. “I was supposed to be stronger. Smarter. But I was afraid. And fear makes you weak. Makes you stupid.”
“And now?” she whispered.
“Now,” I said, stepping closer, my hand cupping her jaw, “I’m not afraid anymore. Not of Cassian. Not of the Council. Not of what they’ll do to me.” I leaned down, my forehead pressing to hers. “I’m only afraid of losing you.”
Her breath caught.
“Then don’t,” she said. “Don’t push me away. Don’t hide from me. I’m not your enemy, Kaelen. I’m not your prisoner. I’m not your damn liability.” Her voice cracked. “I’m your mate. And if you keep treating me like I’m something to be protected, I’ll walk.”
My heart stopped.
“You wouldn’t,” I said.
“Try me,” she said. “I didn’t come here to be caged. I came here to fight. To rule. To stand beside you—not behind you.”
I stared at her.
And I saw it.
Not just the fire. Not just the fury.
But the trust.
She believed in me.
Even now.
Even after everything.
“You’re right,” I said, my voice raw. “I’ve been trying to protect you. To keep you safe. But I’m not your jailer. I’m your partner.”
She didn’t smile. Just nodded. “Then act like it.”
And then—
A howl.
Not from my wolves.
From the shadows.
Low. Feral. Wrong.
My spine went rigid. Blair stepped back, her hand flying to the dagger at her belt. “Rogue?”
“No,” I said, scenting the air. “Worse.”
And then—
It emerged.
A creature of shadow and smoke, its form shifting, unstable—neither wolf nor man, but something in between. Its eyes glowed red, its claws long and jagged. A shadow-wolf. A spirit bound by dark magic, drawn to the weak, the broken, the afraid.
And it was coming for Blair.
“Stay behind me,” I said, shifting into a defensive stance.
“I’m not helpless,” she snapped.
“This isn’t a fight you can win with magic,” I said. “It’s not alive. It’s not real. It feeds on fear. On doubt.”
“Then we’ll give it something else,” she said, stepping beside me. “We’ll give it us.”
Before I could stop her, she raised her hand, her fingers splayed, and spoke.
Not in English. Not in fae.
In blood magic.
Her voice was low, guttural, ancient. The air shimmered. A sigil flared to life in the air between us—crimson, pulsing, alive. And then—
A wave of energy, hot and bright, lashed out, not at the creature—but at me.
It wrapped around me, searing, burning, and then—
Shift.
Not partial.
Not controlled.
Full.
Fur erupted across my skin. Bones cracked. My body expanded, my senses sharpened, my wolf roaring to the surface. I dropped to all fours, a massive black wolf with golden eyes, my breath steaming in the cold air.
Blair had forced my shift.
With magic.
“You’re welcome,” she said, stepping back. “Now go get it.”
The shadow-wolf lunged.
I met it mid-air, my jaws closing around its throat. It screamed—a sound like tearing metal—and writhed, its form dissolving into smoke. I snarled, shaking it, tearing at its essence. It lashed out, claws raking my side. Pain flared, hot and sharp. But I didn’t let go.
Not until it was gone.
Until it had scattered into the wind, nothing but ash and shadow.
I stood over the spot where it had been, my chest rising and falling fast, my fur matted with blood—mine, not its. Blair stepped forward, her hand reaching for my muzzle.
“You okay?” she asked.
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t.
But I leaned into her touch, my wolf content, calmed by her scent, by her presence.
And then—
I shifted back.
Slow. Controlled. Human again.
Naked. Bloody. Breathing hard.
She didn’t look away. Didn’t flinch. Just stepped forward and wrapped the wolf-fur cloak around my shoulders.
“You’re hurt,” she said, her fingers brushing the gash on my side.
“It’s nothing,” I said.
“It’s not nothing,” she said. “You bled for me. Again.”
“I’d bleed a thousand times,” I said, my voice rough. “If it meant keeping you safe.”
She looked up at me, her dark eyes searching mine. “Then stop pretending you don’t love me.”
My breath caught.
“Say it,” she whispered. “Just once. Say you love me.”
I stared at her.
And for the first time in my life—
I let the truth free.
“I love you,” I said, my voice breaking. “Not because of the bond. Not because of the Contract. Not because of magic. Because of you. Because you’re fierce. Because you’re brave. Because you’re the only person who’s ever looked at me and seen the man, not the Alpha.”
Tears burned her eyes.
Not from pain.
From the unbearable weight of being seen.
And then—
She kissed me.
Soft. Slow. Aching.
And the world—
It stopped.
The wind died. The moon hung still. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive.
And for the first time—
I didn’t fight it.
I kissed her back.
And the war didn’t matter.
The Council didn’t matter.
The Contract didn’t matter.
Because in that moment—
I wasn’t the Alpha.
I wasn’t the enforcer.
I wasn’t the signatory.
I was just a man.
In the arms of the woman who had shattered every wall I’d ever built.
And it felt like coming home.
But then—
A scream.
Not from Blair.
From the stronghold.
High-pitched. Terrified.
We broke apart.
And I knew—
The peace was over.
The war had begun.
“Stay here,” I said, already moving.
“Like hell,” she said, following.
And as we ran back through the snow, the wind howling at our backs—
I knew.
The real battle wasn’t against the shadow-wolves.
It wasn’t against Cassian.
It wasn’t even against the Council.
It was against the fear.
The doubt.
The lies.
And I wasn’t going to lose.
Not this time.
Not with her by my side.