The northern ridge wind cut through the thin fabric of my borrowed tunic like ice-laced glass, but I barely felt it. My skin still hummed with the aftermath of the vision, the echo of my mother’s voice reverberating in my bones. “You are two halves of the same soul.” The words hadn’t just been spoken—they’d been etched into me, a truth deeper than blood, heavier than vengeance. The Contract was gone. Rewritten. Transformed into something new, something golden and pulsing with possibility.
And yet, as I followed Kaelen through the thinning pines, the bond between us warm and steady against my neck, I couldn’t shake the chill that had nothing to do with the mountain air.
We were running.
Not from the Fae High Court, not from Cassian’s hollow threats—though they loomed like storm clouds on the horizon.
We were running from what I’d seen in that final vision. My own hands, cold and certain, driving a dagger into Kaelen’s heart. The Contract laughing. The triumph in my eyes.
That woman wasn’t me.
And she was.
Because the rage, the hunger for justice twisted into vengeance—it was still in me. Buried beneath the bond, the claiming, the fragile hope blooming in my chest, but it was there. A shadow. A whisper.
And if I wasn’t careful, it would consume everything.
“We’ll reach the Stronghold by dawn,” Kaelen said, not turning, his voice low but carrying in the stillness. He’d shifted into his coat hours ago, the thick wolf-fur cloak now wrapped around me, his scent—pine, smoke, wild earth—clinging to the fabric, to my skin. “Riven will send word if there’s pursuit.”
“He already did,” Riven said, stepping up beside us, his dark eyes scanning the treeline. “No one followed. The Court is in chaos. Cassian’s trying to spin the story—claiming the Contract was destroyed by rogue magic, blaming it on me.”
Kaelen grunted. “Let him. By the time he proves anything, we’ll be beyond his reach.”
“And what then?” I asked, my voice tight. “You think he’ll just let it go? That the Council will accept a half-breed witch as your mate?”
He stopped, turning to me. The moonlight caught the gold in his eyes, fierce, unyielding. “You’re not just my mate. You’re my equal. My partner. And if they can’t accept that, they can burn.”
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From the unbearable weight of being chosen.
He reached for me, his calloused thumb brushing my cheek. “You’re not running from them, Blair. You’re running to something. To us. To a future they can’t control.”
I leaned into his touch, the warmth of it cutting through the cold. “I’m afraid,” I whispered. “Afraid I’ll lose myself. That I’ll become what they made me—what the Contract wanted me to be. A destroyer.”
“You’re not a destroyer,” he said, pulling me close, his arms wrapping around me, solid, unyielding. “You’re the only one who’s ever seen me as a man. The only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m worth saving.”
And in that moment, with the wind howling and the mountains rising around us, I believed him.
I believed in us.
—
The Northern Stronghold wasn’t a fortress—it was a kingdom carved into the Carpathians, a labyrinth of black stone and iron rising from the mountain’s spine. Torches flickered along the battlements, casting long shadows over the courtyards below. Wolves moved like ghosts through the fog, their eyes glowing in the dark. The air smelled of fire, fur, and something deeper—pack. Loyalty. Home.
Kaelen led us through the gates, guards snapping to attention, their eyes wide as they took in the sight of their Alpha—bloodied, half-naked, with a woman at his side who bore his mark.
But they didn’t question.
They bowed.
And I felt it—the shift. Not just in them. In me.
I wasn’t the challenger here.
I wasn’t the destroyer.
I was something else.
Something new.
“You’ll stay in my chambers,” Kaelen said as we climbed the winding stone stairs. “No one will touch you.”
“I don’t need protecting,” I said, but I didn’t pull away as he guided me through the heavy oak door.
The room was vast—stone walls lined with weapons, a massive hearth roaring with fire, a bed draped in dark furs. But it wasn’t the size that struck me.
It was the silence.
No chains. No wards. No silver. Just warmth. Safety. Peace.
I stepped inside, the cloak slipping from my shoulders. My legs were weak, my body still trembling from the magic, the bond, the weight of everything we’d done.
Kaelen caught me before I fell, lifting me onto the bed. “Rest,” he said, pulling the furs over me. “The bond is still settling. You need to heal.”
“So do you,” I said, my eyes drifting to the gash on his side, now bandaged but still dark with dried blood.
“I’m fine,” he said, but I saw the flicker of pain in his eyes.
“Liar,” I whispered.
He didn’t argue. Just knelt beside the bed, his hand covering mine. “Sleep, Blair. I’ll be here.”
And I did.
For the first time in years, I didn’t dream of vengeance.
I dreamed of him.
—
I woke to sunlight.
Not the pale, cold light of dawn, but the warm, golden glow of midday, streaming through the high windows, casting long bars across the stone floor. The fire had burned low, but the room was warm. The furs were heavy on my skin. And Kaelen—
He was gone.
My heart lurched.
Not from fear.
From the sudden, unbearable absence of him. The bond still pulsed—warm, steady—but it wasn’t the same as feeling him beside me, his breath on my skin, his hand in mine.
I sat up, swinging my legs off the bed. My body ached, but the fever was gone. The magic was quiet. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder.
Mine.
Claimed.
Bound.
I found a fresh tunic in the wardrobe—dark gray, wolf-embroidered at the collar—and pulled it on. My boots were by the door, cleaned, polished. I laced them slowly, my mind racing.
What now?
The Contract was broken. Cassian was weakened. But the war wasn’t over. It had only just begun.
And I needed to be ready.
I left the chambers, moving through the stronghold like a ghost. Wolves nodded as I passed, their eyes respectful, curious. I didn’t speak. Didn’t stop. Just walked, letting the rhythm of the place settle into my bones.
And then—
I heard it.
Laughter.
High-pitched. Familiar.
My blood turned to ice.
I followed the sound to the training yard—a vast stone courtyard ringed with weapons, where wolves sparred under the morning sun. And in the center—
Mira.
She stood beside Cassian, dressed in a gown of deep crimson, her hair cascading over one shoulder. Her smile was sweet. Her eyes—cold as winter—locked onto mine.
And in her hand—
A tablet.
My breath stopped.
She held it up, the screen glowing.
The image filled the courtyard—a projection, large and clear. Me. Kaelen. In his chambers. His mouth at my neck. My head thrown back. My fingers tangled in his hair.
The same doctored image from the Council Chamber.
But this time—
It wasn’t just a lie.
It was a weapon.
“Ah, Blair,” Mira said, her voice melodic. “Just in time. I was just showing the pack the truth.”
Gasps. Murmurs. The wolves turned, their eyes narrowing.
“That’s not real,” I said, stepping forward, my voice steady despite the hammering of my heart. “It’s glamour. A forgery.”
“Prove it,” she said, smiling. “Go ahead. Use your truth magic. But be careful—what if the pack sees something else? What if they see you in his bed? What if they see the bond isn’t just political, but personal?”
My blood ran cold.
She wasn’t just attacking me.
She was attacking us.
And she was winning.
“You lying bitch,” I said, stepping closer. “You’ve been trying to steal him since the moment we arrived. You can’t have him, so you forge a bond that doesn’t exist?”
“And yet,” Cassian said, stepping forward, “the Alpha has not denied it. He has not refuted the image. He has not—”
“Because it’s beneath him,” Kaelen’s voice cut through the courtyard, deep, rough, final.
He stepped into the light, Riven at his side, his golden eyes blazing. The wolves snapped to attention. Mira’s smile faltered.
“The image is a lie,” Kaelen said, his gaze locking onto hers. “And if you wear it again, I will tear it from your skin myself.”
“Then explain the bond,” Mira said, her voice trembling. “Explain why she bears your mark. Why you let her into your chambers. Why you—”
“Enough,” Kaelen said, stepping forward. The air around him crackled. His eyes burned gold. “You want proof? You want truth?”
He turned to me.
And before I could react—
He kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Violent.
His hand fisted in my hair, yanking my head back. His mouth crashed onto mine, hot, demanding, possessive. A growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through my bones. My body arched into him, traitorous, hungry. The bond between us burned, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper.
And then—
He bit me.
Not hard enough to mark. Not enough to claim.
But enough to hurt.
A sharp, stinging pain at the base of my throat, where my pulse hammered. I gasped, my fingers clutching his arms, my body pressing into his.
And the courtyard—
It went silent.
When he pulled back, his lips were wet with my blood. His eyes glowed gold. His chest rose and fell fast.
“There,” he said, voice raw. “That’s what a real claim feels like. That’s what my bite does. And if you think for one second I’d ever give that to you—”
He turned to Mira, his gaze like a blade. “—you’re more deluded than I thought.”
She stared at him—her face pale, her hands trembling. Then, without a word, she turned and fled.
The courtyard erupted.
Whispers. Gasps. The wolves roared—approval, triumph, loyalty.
Cassian’s smile was gone. His eyes were cold, calculating.
And I—
I stood there, my lips swollen, my throat stinging, my body trembling with something I couldn’t name.
Because that kiss—
It hadn’t been for show.
It hadn’t been just to silence the lie.
It had been real.
And I had kissed him back.
—
Kaelen didn’t speak as we left the courtyard. He didn’t look at me. Just walked, the bond tugging me forward, his pace fast, unrelenting. We moved through the halls, the whispers following like shadows.
“Did you see that?”
“He claimed her.”
“The challenger—she’s his now.”
I didn’t care.
All I could feel was the sting at my throat. The taste of him on my lips. The way my body still burned from his touch.
When we reached the chambers, he barred the door behind us. The fire was out. The room was cold. But I was on fire.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, my voice shaking. “You could’ve just denied it. You didn’t have to—”
“Lie?” he interrupted, turning to me. “That wasn’t a lie.”
“It was a performance,” I said. “You did it to prove a point. To shut her up.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I did it because I couldn’t stand the thought of her touching you. Of her pretending to be you. Of her wearing my mark when it should be yours.”
My breath caught.
“You don’t get to say that,” I whispered. “You don’t get to bite me and kiss me and then pretend it means something.”
“It does mean something,” he said, closing the distance. “It meant I was done pretending.”
“Pretending what?”
“That I don’t want you,” he said, his voice rough. “That I don’t need you. That every time you walk into a room, my wolf doesn’t go still, waiting to see if you’ll look at me. That every time you fight me, I don’t want to pin you down and make you stop. That every time you pull away, I don’t want to drag you back.”
My heart hammered.
“Then why do you?” I whispered. “Why do you keep pushing me away?”
“Because you came here to destroy me,” he said. “And I can’t let you destroy yourself in the process.”
“Maybe I don’t want to destroy you anymore,” I said. “Maybe I never did.”
“Then what do you want?”
“I want—”
But I couldn’t say it.
I couldn’t say you.
Because saying it would make it real.
And if it was real—
Then I was already lost.
He stepped closer, his hand gripping my wrist, the one that had borne the chain. “Say it,” he growled. “Say what you want.”
“I want—”
And then—
A scream.
High-pitched. Terrified.
The door burst open.
Riven stood in the doorway, his eyes wide. “Kaelen. The prisoner—Elara. She’s been captured. They’re bringing her to the Blood Cells. Now.”
My breath caught.
Elara.
Alive.
And in danger.
Kaelen stepped back, his chest rising and falling fast. His eyes were gold, feral. His lips were swollen. His scent—pine, smoke, desire—wrapped around me, thick, intoxicating.
And then—
He looked at me.
And I saw it.
The crack in the armor.
The hunger.
The need.
And beneath it—
Fear.
Not of the Council.
Not of Cassian.
Of me.
Because he was falling.
And so was I.
“We have to go,” I said, sliding off the desk.
He didn’t answer.
Just reached for my hand.
And as we ran through the halls, the bond between us tugging with every step—
I knew.
The real battle wasn’t against the Contract.
It wasn’t against Cassian.
It wasn’t even against Mira.
It was against this.
Against the truth.
Against the desire.
Against the love I was trying so hard to deny.
And I wasn’t sure I could win.
Because the worst part?
I didn’t want to.