The firelight of the Moon Festival still clung to my skin, a ghost of heat against the mountain’s cold. My body hummed—not from the venom Mira had shattered on the stone, not from the fury that had sent her sprawling—but from him. Kaelen. The way he’d dropped to one knee. The way his fangs had grazed my thumb, not to claim, but to promise. The way his voice had broken when he said, “I love you.”
I hadn’t answered.
Not with words.
But I’d kissed him—hard, desperate, like I could pour every unsaid truth into his mouth. And when I pulled back, the bond between us had screamed, a pulse of heat so deep it felt like my bones had realigned.
Now, we walked through the stronghold’s halls, side by side, our hands clasped, the silence between us thick with everything we hadn’t said. The pack had roared their approval, their loyalty a roar that still echoed in the stone. But I didn’t feel like a queen.
I felt like a target.
Mira was still out there. Cassian was still scheming. And the Council’s summons loomed like a storm on the horizon. Three days. That’s all we had before we returned to the Fae High Court, before we faced them with nothing but the truth and the bond that bound us.
And the truth?
It wasn’t enough.
Not yet.
“You’re thinking too loud,” Kaelen said, his voice low, rough. He didn’t look at me. Just kept his gaze forward, his grip firm on my hand.
“I’m thinking we need more than declarations,” I said. “We need proof. Not just of the bond. Of the Contract’s corruption. Of Cassian’s lies. Something they can’t twist. Something they can’t deny.”
He stopped, turning to me. The torchlight caught the gold in his eyes, fierce, unyielding. “And where do you suggest we find that?”
“The Archives,” I said. “Not the ones at the Court. The real ones. The sealed chamber beneath the Stronghold. The one only the Alpha can open.”
His jaw tightened. “It’s forbidden. The knowledge there is dangerous. Unstable.”
“So is the truth,” I said. “And if we don’t find it, Cassian will bury us in lies.”
He studied me—his gaze sharp, assessing. Then, without a word, he turned and led me deeper into the stronghold, through corridors that grew narrower, colder, the stone darker, veined with pulsing silver. The air thickened with magic, ancient and heavy, like the breath of something buried.
We reached a door—black iron, etched with wolf sigils that glowed faintly in the dark. Kaelen pressed his palm to the center. Blood welled from his palm, dripping onto the metal. The sigils flared, the door groaning as it swung open.
Inside—
Darkness.
And then—
Light.
Not from torches. Not from crystals.
From books.
Rows upon rows of them, floating in the air, their pages fluttering like trapped wings. Their spines glowed with runes—wolf, fae, vampire, witch—languages older than memory. The air hummed with power, a low, constant thrum that vibrated in my bones.
“The Lost Archives,” I whispered.
“The sealed ones,” Kaelen said. “Knowledge too dangerous for the living. Too powerful for the weak.”
“And you’re letting me in?”
He turned to me, his golden eyes blazing. “You’re not weak. And you’re not just living. You’re truth. And if anyone can withstand what’s here, it’s you.”
My breath caught.
Not from the words.
From the trust in them.
He stepped inside, and I followed, the door sealing shut behind us. The moment it closed, the bond between us pulsed—hot, heavy, alive. The air thickened, the magic pressing in, testing us, probing.
“Stay close,” Kaelen said, his hand gripping mine. “The Archives don’t just hold knowledge. They test it. They test you.”
I nodded, my pulse hammering. We moved through the floating shelves, the books shifting, whispering, their pages brushing against my skin like cold fingers. And then—
I saw it.
A single book, larger than the others, its cover black leather bound with silver chains. The runes on its spine pulsed crimson, the same sigil from my locket, from Kaelen’s wrist, from the Contract itself.
“That’s it,” I said, stepping forward.
Kaelen stopped me. “Wait. That book is warded. It won’t open for just anyone.”
“It’ll open for me,” I said. “It’s mine.”
He didn’t argue. Just stepped back.
I reached for it.
The moment my fingers brushed the cover, the chains shattered, dissolving into silver dust. The book floated into my hands, its weight heavy, ancient. The runes flared, and then—
Memory.
Not mine.
Hers.
My mother, 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 stepped closer, his hand cupping my jaw. “What did you see?”
“The truth,” I said, my voice breaking. “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 pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
“And you saved me,” he said.
“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 Archives—
They screamed.
A sound like tearing parchment, like breaking chains, like a century of lies collapsing in on themselves.
We broke apart.
The books around us flared—crimson, gold, black—runes shifting, rearranging, breathing. The air shimmered, the magic rising, swirling around us like a storm.
And then—
It stopped.
The silence was heavier than stone.
And in the center of the chamber—
A pedestal.
And on it—
A vial.
Clear glass, filled with liquid silver. The same sigil glowed on its surface—crimson, pulsing, alive.
“What is that?” I whispered.
Kaelen stepped forward, his golden eyes narrowing. “It’s a blood pact. A binding. Ancient. Forbidden. It was used in the old wars—when two leaders needed to share knowledge, to merge truth, to see what only both could see.”
“And it’s here for us?”
“It’s here for the truth,” he said. “But it’s dangerous. The pact requires blood. Mouth to mouth. And if we’re not strong enough—”
“We’ll be stronger,” I said, stepping forward. “We’ve already faced the Contract. We’ve already defied Cassian. We’ve already claimed each other.” I reached for his hand, our fingers intertwining. “Now we face the truth. Together.”
He looked at me—really looked at me. 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 let’s do it,” I said.
—
We sat across from each other on the stone floor, the vial between us, pulsing with silver light. The bond hummed beneath my skin, steady, deep, real. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
Kaelen took the vial, uncorking it with slow, deliberate movements. The scent of iron and storm filled the air, thick, intoxicating.
“Our blood,” he said, voice low. “Our bond. Our truth.”
I nodded. We pressed our palms together, our blood mingling, the air between us shimmering. He raised the vial, tilting it to his lips. A single drop of silver liquid fell onto his tongue.
And then—
He kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Deep.
His mouth crashed onto mine, hot, demanding, possessive. The silver liquid passed from his lips to mine, cool at first, then burning, spreading through my veins like fire. Our tongues met, slow and sweet and real, the blood mingling, the magic rising.
And then—
Transfer.
The chamber blurred.
The world reformed.
We stood in the Fae High Court—same marble, same chandeliers, same cold. But it was different. Older. Colder. And in the center—
The Contract.
But it wasn’t just parchment anymore.
It was alive.
The silver veins pulsed, the black ink shifted, and then—
It spoke.
Not with sound.
With thought.
“You have returned,” it whispered, the voice layered, ancient, hungry. “The challenger and the signatory. The destroyer and the bound.”
“We’re not here to destroy,” I said, voice steady. “We’re here to see. To know.”
“To claim,” it corrected. “To fulfill. To break.”
“Then show us,” Kaelen said, stepping forward. “Show us the truth.”
The Contract pulsed.
And then—
Memory.
Not just mine.
Not just his.
Ours.
My mother, kneeling before the Contract, blood on her hands. But this time, we saw what she saw. Felt what she felt. The weight of her magic. The depth of her love. The certainty of her choice.
“I bind you,” she whispered, pressing her blood to the parchment. “Not in hate. Not in vengeance. But in love. In hope. In truth.”
And then—
She looked at us.
Across time. Across death. Across the veil.
“You are not enemies,” she said. “You are not prisoner and captor. You are not destroyer and savior.” Her voice echoed, layered with magic. “You are two halves of the same soul. And only together can you break the chains.”
The vision shifted.
Not past.
Not future.
Now.
We stood in the Council Chamber, but it was in ruins. The chandeliers shattered. The marble cracked. And in the center—
Kaelen.
He was on his knees, blood dripping from his mouth, his golden eyes dim. Cassian stood over him, a dagger in hand, the Contract glowing in the air above them. And beside me—
Me.
Another version of me—cold, furious, her eyes black with magic. She raised her hand, a sigil flaring to life, and spoke.
“You signed it,” she said, voice hollow. “You enslaved my mother. You destroyed my bloodline. And now—”
She stepped forward, the dagger in her hand—Kaelen’s dagger, the one with the wolf sigil.
“Now you die.”
And then—
She drove it into his heart.
He gasped. Fell. Blood pooled beneath him.
And the Contract—
It laughed.
A sound like tearing parchment, like breaking chains, like a century of lies finally winning.
I screamed—
And then—
I was back.
The Archives. The vial. Kaelen kneeling beside me, his hands on my shoulders, his voice rough with fear.
“Blair. Blair.”
I gasped, my chest heaving, my vision blurred with tears. My skin burned. My magic crackled beneath the surface, wild, uncontrolled.
“I saw it,” I whispered. “I saw what happens if I don’t choose love.”
Kaelen’s grip tightened. “What did you see?”
“Me,” I said, my voice breaking. “Another version of me. I killed you. I drove the dagger into your heart. And the Contract—” I shuddered. “—it won.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was the only thing keeping him alive.
“That’s not going to happen,” he said, voice rough. “Because you’re not that woman. You’re not vengeance. You’re not hate. You’re—”
“I’m afraid,” I whispered, my fingers clutching his arms. “I’m afraid I’ll lose myself. That I’ll become what they made me—what the Contract wants me to be. A destroyer. A killer. A monster.”
“You’re not a monster,” he said, pulling back just enough to look at me. “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.”
My breath caught.
And then—
The vial glowed.
Not silver.
Gold.
And the runes—
They shifted.
Not just the sigil.
Words.
“Only love can break the curse.”
Kaelen looked at me, his golden eyes blazing with something I hadn’t seen before.
Not just desire.
Not just need.
Hope.
“Then we do it,” he said. “We go back in. Together.”
My breath caught. “It’s dangerous. The vision—it’s not just a memory. It’s a test. A trap. If we’re not strong enough—”
“Then we’ll be stronger,” he said, standing, pulling me with him. “We’ve already faced the Contract. We’ve already defied Cassian. We’ve already claimed each other.” He reached for my hand, our fingers intertwining. “Now we face the truth. Together.”
I looked at him—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 let’s do it,” I said.
—
We sat across from each other again, the vial glowing gold between us. Our hands clasped. Our blood mingling.
And then—
We kissed.
Not to transfer magic.
But to claim.
And the world—
It vanished.