The silence in the Archives was heavier than stone. Not the quiet of peace, but the stillness before a storm—charged, brittle, waiting to shatter. Blair and Kaelen stood close, their hands still clasped, their breaths shallow, their bodies humming with the aftermath of magic. The Contract lay on the pedestal, blank now, its ink vanished, its silver veins gone. The sigil above it glowed gold—warm, pulsing, alive. A new beginning. A promise.
And yet—
I felt no relief.
Only dread.
I’d seen the vision. Felt it. Lived it. Not just the future where Blair killed Kaelen in cold fury, but the truth beneath—the Contract’s original purpose, twisted by Cassian, now seeking redemption through them. Through love. Through sacrifice.
And I’d seen something else.
The cost.
Because love wasn’t enough. Not in this world. Not with the Council watching. Not with Cassian still breathing.
And not with Kaelen.
My Alpha. My brother in all but blood. The man who’d pulled me from the Blood Cells a century ago, half-dead, starving, my sire’s bite still fresh on my neck. The man who’d given me a purpose when I had none. A name when I was nothing.
And now?
Now he was changing.
For her.
And I wasn’t sure he’d survive it.
“It’s done,” Blair whispered, her voice trembling. “The Contract is broken.”
“Transformed,” Kaelen corrected, his thumb brushing the mark on her neck. “Not destroyed. Rewritten.”
She looked up at him, her dark eyes searching his. “And us?”
He didn’t hesitate. “Still bound. Still claimed. Still mine.”
She smiled—soft, aching, real. “And you’re mine.”
And the way he looked at her—
Like she was the only light in a world of shadows.
Like he’d burn the sky to keep her safe.
Like he’d already lost himself to her.
It was beautiful.
And it terrified me.
“You should go,” I said, stepping forward, my voice low. “Before someone realizes what’s happened.”
Kaelen turned to me, his golden eyes narrowing. “We’re not running.”
“No,” I agreed. “You’re not. But you’re not staying here, either. Not tonight. Not with Cassian still in the Court. Not with the Council already whispering about your ‘unstable bond.’”
Blair’s spine stiffened. “Let them whisper. The Contract’s gone. They can’t touch us.”
“The Contract is gone,” I said. “But the power it upheld isn’t. Cassian still has allies. The fae nobles still fear change. And the moment they realize you’ve not just broken the Contract, but rewritten it—”
“Then they’ll come for us,” Kaelen finished, his voice flat.
“Yes,” I said. “And they’ll come hard. With lies. With magic. With blood.” I looked at Blair. “You think they’ll let a half-breed witch claim the Alpha of the Northern Packs? That they’ll let a rogue challenge the very foundation of their hierarchy?”
She didn’t flinch. “They don’t get a choice.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
But then I remembered.
The vision. The way she’d driven the dagger into Kaelen’s heart. The way the Contract had laughed.
“You don’t understand,” I said. “It’s not just about power. It’s about fear. And fear makes people do terrible things.” I stepped closer, lowering my voice. “You’ve seen the truth. You’ve claimed each other. But that doesn’t make you safe. Not yet.”
Kaelen studied me. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying you need to leave. Tonight. Before dawn. Go to the Stronghold. Rally your pack. Prepare for war.”
“War?” Blair said. “We don’t want war.”
“You don’t have to want it,” I said. “You just have to be ready for it.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but Kaelen raised a hand, silencing her. “He’s right.”
She turned to him. “You’re just going to listen to him? After everything? After we broke the Contract? We don’t have to run. We can face them. Together.”
“And die together,” I said. “Is that what you want?”
Her eyes flashed. “Don’t you dare—”
“Enough,” Kaelen said, his voice a low growl. “Riven’s not your enemy. He’s protecting me. Protecting us.” He looked at me. “But you don’t get to decide when we leave. That’s my call.”
“And if you’re wrong?” I asked. “If they move tonight? If Cassian sends assassins? If the Council declares you both traitors before you even reach the gates?”
He didn’t answer.
Because he knew I was right.
And because he was afraid.
Not of death.
Of losing her.
“Then we go,” he said finally. “But on my terms. Not yours.”
I nodded. “Fair.”
Blair looked between us, her chest rising and falling fast. “You’re really just going to let him dictate this? After everything we’ve fought for?”
“He’s not dictating,” Kaelen said, stepping to her. “He’s advising. And right now, I need his advice.” He cupped her jaw, his thumb brushing her cheek. “I’m not running from you. I’m running with you. To keep you safe. To give us a chance.”
She searched his face. Then nodded, just once. “Then let’s go.”
—
We moved through the corridors like shadows, the torchlight flickering against the stone. I led the way, my vampire senses scanning for movement, for breath, for the faintest trace of magic. Kaelen followed, Blair close beside him, their hands clasped, the bond between them a warm pulse in the air. We passed no one. The Court was silent, the nobles in their chambers, the guards at their posts. But I felt their eyes. Felt their fear. Their hatred.
They knew.
They didn’t know what had happened in the Archives. But they knew something had changed.
And they were afraid.
We reached the eastern gate—small, hidden, used only by servants and spies. I pressed my palm to the ward, whispering the words Kaelen had taught me centuries ago. The lock clicked. The gate swung open.
Cold night air rushed in, sharp with frost and pine. Beyond it—the forest. The mountains. Freedom.
“Go,” I said. “I’ll follow.”
Kaelen hesitated. “You’re not coming?”
“Not yet,” I said. “I need to stay. To watch. To make sure no one follows.”
“You’d stay behind?” Blair asked, her voice tight. “After everything?”
“I’d stay behind to protect him,” I said, meeting her gaze. “Just like you would.”
She didn’t argue.
Just stepped forward, into the night.
Kaelen followed. Then stopped, turning back to me. “You’ll come?”
“I’ll come,” I said. “When it’s safe.”
He nodded. Then pulled me into a rough embrace—brief, fierce, wordless. A brother’s farewell.
And then he was gone.
I closed the gate behind them, resetting the ward. The silence rushed back in, thick, suffocating. I stood there for a long moment, listening to the wind, to the distant howl of a wolf, to the quiet hum of the bond fading into the distance.
And then—
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate. Familiar.
I turned.
Cassian stood at the end of the corridor, his silver hair gleaming in the torchlight, his smile sharp as a knife.
“Leaving so soon?” he said. “And without saying goodbye?”
My blood ran cold.
But I didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Just stood, calm, still, a statue carved from shadow and silence.
“I was just checking the wards,” I said. “Making sure no one had tampered with them.”
He stepped closer, his boots echoing on stone. “And did they?”
“No,” I said. “Everything’s intact.”
He smiled. “Good. Because we wouldn’t want any… unauthorized departures.”
My jaw tightened. “The Alpha and the challenger are still in their suite. Asleep.”
“Are they?” he said, tilting his head. “Funny. I could’ve sworn I saw them leave. Through the eastern gate. With you leading the way.”
I didn’t blink. “You must be mistaken.”
“Must I?” he said, stepping into my space. His scent—cold iron and old wine—wrapped around me, thick, suffocating. “You’ve always been loyal, Riven. To Kaelen. To the pack. But loyalty can be… expensive.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said.
“Oh, I think you do,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I think you know exactly what’s happened. I think you were there when the Contract was rewritten. I think you saw the vision. And I think you’re the only one who can stop it.”
My breath caught.
“Stop what?” I asked.
“The bond,” he said. “The claim. The love.” He smiled. “You’ve seen what it does to him. You’ve seen how weak it makes him. And you know—better than anyone—what happens to Alphas who lose control.”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
I’d seen it. Felt it. The way Kaelen looked at her. The way he’d let her in. The way he’d changed.
And I was afraid.
Not of Blair.
Of what she’d made him.
“He’s still strong,” I said. “Still Alpha.”
“For now,” Cassian said. “But love? It’s a slow poison. It erodes. It weakens. And when it takes hold—” He leaned closer, his breath cold on my skin. “—it destroys.”
“You don’t know him,” I said, my voice low. “You don’t know what he’s capable of.”
“I know he signed the Contract under duress,” Cassian said. “I know he’s spent centuries building himself into a weapon. And I know that weapon is useless if it’s distracted. If it’s soft.”
“He’s not soft,” I said.
“Isn’t he?” Cassian said. “He let a half-breed witch into his bed. He let her claim him. He let her rewrite the very foundation of our world. And for what? A few whispered words? A few stolen kisses?” He stepped back, his smile fading. “You’ve served him well, Riven. But now? Now you must serve the greater good.”
“And what good is that?” I asked.
“Stability,” he said. “Order. The preservation of our kind.” He reached into his coat, pulling out a small vial of dark liquid. “This will sever the bond. Temporarily. It won’t kill her. Won’t harm the Alpha. But it will… cool the connection. Give him time to think. To see her for what she really is.”
My stomach twisted.
“And if I refuse?” I asked.
“Then you’re a traitor,” he said. “And traitors, Riven, don’t live long.”
I stared at him.
And for the first time—
I saw the truth.
Not just in his words.
In his eyes.
He wasn’t afraid of Blair.
He was afraid of love.
Of what it could do. Of what it had already done.
And he wanted it erased.
“Give me the vial,” I said.
His smile returned. “Wise choice.”
I took it, the glass cold in my palm. “I’ll do it.”
“Good,” he said. “Do it tonight. Before they reach the Stronghold. Before the bond strengthens further.”
“And if I fail?”
“Then you’ll wish you had,” he said. “Now go. And don’t forget—loyalty has its rewards. But betrayal?” He stepped back, his voice a whisper. “It has its price.”
And then he was gone.
I stood there, the vial in my hand, the weight of it crushing.
And I knew—
I had a choice.
Protect Kaelen.
Or protect the bond.
And I wasn’t sure I could do both.
—
The forest was silent as I followed their trail, my vampire speed cutting through the trees like a blade. The bond hummed ahead of me, warm, steady, alive. They were close. Close enough to reach before dawn. Close enough to stop.
But I didn’t know if I could.
Not after what Cassian had said.
Not after what I’d seen.
Kaelen was changing. And I was afraid—
Not of Blair.
But of what she’d made him.
A man who felt. Who loved. Who cared.
And in this world?
That was the most dangerous thing of all.
I found them at the edge of the northern ridge, where the trees thinned and the mountains rose like broken teeth against the sky. They’d stopped to rest, Blair leaning against a pine, Kaelen standing guard, his golden eyes scanning the treeline. The bond pulsed between them, quiet, deep, real.
And then—
He saw me.
“Riven,” he said, voice rough. “You’re late.”
I stepped into the moonlight, my hands empty, my face calm. “I had to make sure no one followed.”
Blair straightened, her eyes narrowing. “And did they?”
“No,” I said. “You’re safe.”
Kaelen studied me. “Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?”
I didn’t answer.
Just stepped forward, closing the distance. Blair tensed, her hand flying to the dagger at her belt. “Stay back.”
“I’m not your enemy,” I said.
“You were alone with Cassian,” she said. “And you came back too easily.”
My chest tightened.
Because she was right.
And because I was about to prove her right.
“He offered me something,” I said, my voice low. “A way to protect him.”
Kaelen’s spine went rigid. “Protect me from what?”
“From this,” I said, gesturing between them. “From the bond. From the claim. From the love.”
Blair stepped in front of him, her body a shield. “You’re going to betray him?”
“I’m trying to save him,” I said. “You’ve seen what it does to him. You’ve seen how it weakens him. How it makes him hesitate. How it makes him afraid.”
“Love isn’t weakness,” she said, her voice breaking. “It’s strength. It’s truth. It’s—”
“It’s a liability,” I said. “And in war? Liabilities get you killed.”
Kaelen didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stared at me, his golden eyes blazing with something I couldn’t name.
Not anger.
Not betrayal.
Sorrow.
“You’ve always been my brother,” he said, voice rough. “My voice of reason. My balance. And now?” He stepped around Blair, facing me. “Now you want to destroy what I’ve finally found?”
“I want to protect you,” I said. “From her. From the bond. From the lies.”
“She’s not a lie,” he said. “She’s my truth.”
“And if she dies?” I asked. “If she’s taken from you? If you lose her?”
“Then I’ll burn the world to get her back,” he said.
“And if you can’t?” I said. “If she’s gone? If you’re left with nothing but grief and rage and the memory of what you lost?”
He didn’t flinch. “Then I’ll grieve. I’ll rage. I’ll live. Because that’s what love is. It’s not safety. It’s not control. It’s risk. It’s pain. It’s loss.” He stepped closer, his presence a weight in the night. “And I’d rather lose everything with her than live forever without her.”
Tears burned my eyes.
Not from pain.
From the unbearable weight of being seen.
Because he was right.
And I was wrong.
I reached into my coat, pulling out the vial. My fingers trembled as I held it out to him.
“He gave me this,” I said. “To sever the bond. To ‘cool’ it. To make you see her for what she is.”
Kaelen didn’t take it. Just stared at it. Then at me.
“And what did you say?”
“I said I’d do it,” I whispered. “But I was lying.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just took the vial from my hand—and crushed it in his fist.
Dark liquid spilled between his fingers, sizzling on the stone.
“You’re my brother,” he said. “And I forgive you. But if you ever threaten her again—” His voice dropped to a growl. “—I’ll kill you myself.”
I nodded, my throat tight. “I know.”
He turned, pulling Blair into his arms. She looked at me—her eyes fierce, her chin high.
And then—
She nodded.
Not forgiveness.
Not trust.
Acceptance.
And I knew—
I’d failed.
And I’d never been more relieved.
“We should go,” Kaelen said, his arm around her. “Before dawn.”
I followed as they moved into the trees, the bond humming between them, warm, steady, alive.
And I knew—
The real battle wasn’t against Cassian.
It wasn’t against the Council.
It wasn’t even against the Contract.
It was against fear.
Against doubt.
Against the belief that love was weakness.
And I wasn’t going to lose.
Not this time.
Not with them leading the way.
Blair’s Contract
The first time Blair sees Kaelen Vire, he’s pinning a traitor to the marble floor with one hand around his throat, his golden wolf eyes glowing under the chandeliers of the Fae High Court. She watches from the shadows, her pulse hammering not with fear — but recognition. He’s the key. The final signatory of the Ancient Contract of Subjugation, the document that branded her mother a bonded servant and erased her bloodline from history. Blair has trained for this moment: infiltrate, expose, dismantle. But before she can act, a hidden ward flares — and the contract reacts. A silver chain erupts from the floor, wrapping around her wrist… and his. Their blood drips onto the parchment. The ink moves. A new clause forms: “Until truth is judged, the signatory and the challenger shall remain bound in proximity, power, and purpose.”
Now, Blair is shackled to the most dangerous man in the supernormal world — a man whose scent makes her skin burn, whose voice triggers a primal pull she can’t name. He wants control. She wants freedom. But when a rival claims Kaelen spent the night in her bed — and bears his bite mark — Blair’s fury ignites a bond-fire neither can suppress. One desperate kiss in a moonlit archive leaves her half-undressed, gasping, her magic spiraling out of control. And when she wakes with his mark on her collarbone — a mark he swears he didn’t give — she realizes: the contract isn’t just political. It’s alive. And it’s trying to make them mates.
She came to destroy him.
Now, she might have to love him — to survive.