The silence after Mira fled was thick, electric—like the air before a storm breaks. The Council delegation stood frozen, their eyes wide, their breaths shallow. Cassian’s face had gone pale, his lips pressed into a thin, venomous line. The nobles shifted uneasily, their glances darting between Kaelen and me, between the fading image on the tablet and the fresh mark blooming at the base of my throat.
And Kaelen?
He didn’t look at them.
He looked at me.
His hand still gripped my wrist, his thumb pressing into the pulse point there, steady, possessive. His eyes burned gold, fierce, unyielding. His chest rose and fell fast, his breath hot on my skin. The scent of him—pine, smoke, wild earth—wrapped around me, thick, intoxicating. And beneath it, something deeper. Something primal.
Desire.
And I—
I was trembling.
Not from fear.
From the unbearable weight of being seen.
Because that kiss—
It hadn’t been just a performance.
It hadn’t been just to silence the lie.
It had been a claim. A declaration. A promise.
And I had kissed him back.
Not out of duty.
Not out of strategy.
Because I wanted to.
Because I needed to.
Because every time he touched me, every time he looked at me, every time he growled my name—it was like coming home.
“The bond is real,” Kaelen said, his voice rough, final. “And if any of you doubt it, you can burn.”
Cassian stepped forward, his voice smooth as poisoned honey. “You’ve made your point, Alpha. But the Council will not tolerate this… display. A half-breed witch as your mate? A challenger as your queen? The balance is already shifting. The Contract—”
“The Contract is broken,” Kaelen interrupted, stepping in front of me, shielding me with his body. “Rewritten. Transformed. And if you can’t accept that, you’re welcome to leave. But know this—Blair is mine. And I am hers. And if you come for her, you come for me. And if you come for me—” His voice dropped to a growl. “—you’ll find the Northern Stronghold waiting.”
The nobles exchanged glances. Some looked afraid. Some looked furious. But none stepped forward.
Because they knew.
The game was over.
“We will take this to the full Council,” Cassian said, his voice tight. “This is not the end.”
“It’s not the beginning, either,” Kaelen said. “Now get out.”
They left without another word, their steps echoing in the vast stone hall. The wolves watched them go, silent, watchful, their loyalty a quiet promise in the air. And when the last of them had vanished into the corridor, the tension in the chamber broke like a dam.
The pack roared.
Not in anger.
In triumph.
They surged forward, surrounding us, their voices rising in a chorus of approval, of loyalty, of home. Kaelen didn’t flinch. Didn’t smile. Just stood, solid, unyielding, his hand still gripping mine.
And I—
I stood beside him.
Not as a prisoner.
Not as a challenger.
As his equal.
As his mate.
—
The stronghold was alive with energy when we left the chamber, the wolves moving through the halls with a new purpose, their eyes bright, their steps sure. The air hummed with magic, with loyalty, with something deeper—hope.
Kaelen led me through the corridors, his hand warm on the small of my back, his presence a solid weight at my side. The bond pulsed between us, steady, deep, real. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
But the peace didn’t last.
We’d barely reached his chambers when Riven appeared, his dark eyes sharp, his voice low. “She’s here.”
My breath caught.
“Elara?” I asked, stepping forward. “She’s alive? She’s safe?”
“She’s in the infirmary,” Riven said. “Weak, but stable. The venom’s been purged. She’s asking for you.”
I turned to Kaelen. “I have to go.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Then I’ll come with you.”
—
The infirmary was a quiet chamber carved into the mountain’s heart, lit by soft blue lanterns that cast a healing glow over the stone. Elara lay on a narrow cot, her silver hair fanned across the pillow, her wrists bandaged, her face pale but calm. When she saw me, her eyes lit up—sharp, knowing, alive.
“You made it,” she said, her voice weak but steady.
I rushed to her side, dropping to my knees, my fingers gripping hers. “I thought I’d lost you. I thought—”
“I’m not that easy to kill,” she said, smiling. “But they were stronger this time. The cuffs—they were laced with fae venom and wolfbane. It took Riven hours to purge it.”
I looked at Riven, standing in the doorway, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. “Thank you.”
He nodded, just once. “She’s strong. Fought the poison the whole way.”
I turned back to Elara. “Why did they take you? What did they want?”
“They wanted to know about you,” she said. “About the Contract. About your mother.”
“And you told them nothing.”
“Of course not,” she said. “But they’ll try again. And next time, they won’t be so gentle.”
Kaelen stepped forward, his presence a weight in the chamber. “Then they’ll have to go through me.”
Elara studied him—her gaze sharp, assessing. Then she nodded. “Good. You’ll need him, Blair. More than you know.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I already knew.
“There’s something else,” Elara said, her voice dropping. “Something I didn’t tell you before.”
My pulse spiked. “What?”
She reached for my hand, her fingers cold, trembling. “The Contract isn’t just a prison for your bloodline. It’s a lock. And the key isn’t just blood. It’s claiming. Full. Final. Unconditional.”
My breath caught.
“You mean—”
“You have to claim Kaelen,” Elara said. “Not as a prisoner. Not as a symbol. As a mate. And he must claim you the same way. Only then can the Contract be broken.”
I looked at Kaelen—his golden eyes blazing, his jaw tight, his hand gripping mine like he’d never let go.
And I realized—
We already had.
Not in the Blood Cells.
Not in the audience chamber.
But in the vision. In the kiss. In the way he’d looked at me when he said, “I love you.”
We’d claimed each other.
And the Contract had shattered.
“It’s already done,” I said, my voice steady. “We’ve claimed each other. The Contract’s gone.”
Elara’s eyes widened. “You’re sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said. “The Contract’s rewritten. Transformed. It’s not a prison anymore. It’s a promise.”
She stared at me—her eyes filled with something I couldn’t name.
Not regret.
Not fear.
Hope.
“Then it’s working,” she whispered. “The magic—it’s fulfilling its true purpose. Not to control. Not to enslave. But to free.”
“Free who?” I asked.
“All of us,” she said. “The hybrids. The outcasts. The ones they’ve silenced. The Contract was never meant to be a weapon. It was meant to be a shield. A way to protect your bloodline from those who would exploit your magic. But Cassian twisted it. Used it to feed on you. To erase you.”
My chest tightened.
“And now?”
“Now,” she said, “it’s returning to its true form. And you—” She looked at me, her gaze fierce. “—you’re the key. The one who breaks the chains. The one who rewrites the rules. The one who claims.”
“Claims what?”
“Power,” she said. “Truth. Love. The Contract was never just about control. It was about balance. And only love can restore it.”
I looked at Kaelen—really looked at him. The man who had signed the Contract under duress. The Alpha who had saved his enforcer. The predator who had kissed me like I was the only thing worth hunting.
And I realized—
I didn’t just want to save him.
I wanted to see him.
Not just as my mate.
But as my equal.
“Then we do it,” I said. “We go back to the Court. We face Cassian. We show them the truth.”
Elara nodded. “And when you do—don’t hide. Don’t pretend. Let them see you. Let them see the bond. Let them see the love.”
“And if they attack?” Kaelen asked.
“Then fight,” Elara said. “But not with violence. Fight with truth. With unity. With the power of two souls choosing each other.”
Silence.
Then—
Kaelen reached for me, his hand warm, steady. “Then we do it together.”
I took his hand, my fingers intertwining with his. “Together.”
—
Elara stayed in the infirmary, weak but safe, under Riven’s watch. The pack had rallied, their loyalty unshakable. The bond between Kaelen and me pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—a constant reminder of what we’d already claimed.
But I needed more.
I needed to understand.
So that night, while Kaelen stood guard at the window, his silhouette sharp against the moonlight, I took out the locket—my mother’s locket—and pressed it to my chest.
It glowed faintly, silver veins pulsing beneath the metal.
And then—
Memory.
Not mine.
Hers.
My mother, younger, stronger, standing in a hidden chamber beneath the Fae High Court. The Contract on a pedestal. Cassian behind her, his hand on a dagger. And Kaelen—bound, bleeding, his golden eyes blazing with fury.
“Sign,” Cassian hissed. “Or your pack dies.”
Kaelen’s hand trembled. He reached for the quill.
But then—
My mother stepped forward. “Wait.”
Cassian turned. “You dare speak?”
“I dare,” she said, 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 smirked. “And why would I allow that?”
“Because,” she said, “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 hesitated. Then nodded. “Do it.”
She cut her palm, pressing it to the parchment. Blood spread across the page, glowing silver. Words formed—ancient, powerful. And then—
She looked at Kaelen. “I’m sorry,” she whispered. “But the Contract must be broken. And it will be. By my blood. By my daughter.”
He stared at her. “Why are you doing this?”
“Because,” she said, “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 pressed her blood to his wrist. A mark formed—faint, silver, hidden beneath his skin. A sigil. A promise.
“She’ll find it,” she said. “And when she does, she’ll know the truth.”
“What truth?” he asked.
“That love,” she said, “is the only magic strong enough to break a curse.”
The vision faded.
I gasped, my chest heaving, my vision blurred with tears.
Because now I knew.
The Contract hadn’t been about control.
It had been about choice.
And I had chosen.
Not to destroy Kaelen.
But to save him.
And in doing so—
I had saved myself.
Kaelen turned from the window, his eyes gold in the dark. “What did you see?”
I looked at him—really looked at him. “I saw the truth. The Contract wasn’t meant to enslave. It was meant to protect. And my mother—she bound you to me not to punish you, but to save you.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just stepped closer, his hand cupping my jaw. “And you saved me.”
“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “You saved me. You saw me. Not the challenger. Not the destroyer. Not the half-breed. You saw me.”
He leaned down, his forehead pressing to mine. “And I’ll keep seeing you. Every day. For the rest of my life.”
And then—
He kissed me.
Not hard. Not desperate.
Soft. Slow. Aching.
Our lips met, gentle, searching. One hand cupped my jaw, the other gripped my wrist, the one that had borne the chain. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive.
And the Contract—
It screamed.
A sound like tearing parchment, like breaking chains, like a century of lies collapsing in on themselves.
We broke apart.
The room was silent.
But the bond—
It was stronger than ever.
And I knew—
The Contract was broken.
But our bond?
That was just beginning.