The Northern Stronghold breathed differently now—slower, deeper, like a beast that had finally stopped snarling and learned to rest. After Cassian’s retreat, after the shattered cage and Elara’s trembling return to her feet, the wolves moved through the halls not with wariness, but with a quiet reverence. They watched me not as an intruder, not as a half-breed interloper, but as hers. Kaelen’s. Mine.
And I—
I was still learning how to wear it.
The bond pulsed beneath my skin, steady, deep, real. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound. But it wasn’t just the magic that weighed on me. It was the truth. The memory of what I’d seen—what I’d felt—in the dreams, in the visions, in the raw, unfiltered gaze of Kaelen’s golden eyes when he whispered, “I love you.”
I had come here to destroy him.
And instead, I had chosen him.
Not out of duty.
Not out of magic.
Out of love.
And the worst part?
I didn’t regret it.
—
Elara was recovering in the infirmary, her magic slowly returning, her strength rebuilding. The silver cuffs had poisoned her deeply, and though the venom was purged, her body still bore the scars. She sat upright on the cot, wrapped in a woolen blanket, her silver hair loose over her shoulders. Her eyes were sharp, but there was a new fragility in her posture—a rare vulnerability I’d never seen before.
Kaelen stood at the foot of the cot, his arms crossed, his expression unreadable. But I knew him now. I could see the tension in his jaw, the way his fingers twitched at his sides. He was angry. Not at Cassian—though that fury simmered beneath the surface. Angry at himself. For not protecting her. For not seeing the trap.
“She needs blood healing,” Elara said, her voice low but firm. “Not just to restore her strength. To seal the wound in her magic. The venom left a tear—a weakness Cassian could exploit if he returns.”
My breath caught. “Then I’ll do it.”
Kaelen turned to me, his golden eyes blazing. “You just used blood magic to heal her once. You nearly collapsed. I won’t let you risk yourself again.”
“And I won’t let her suffer,” I snapped. “She’s been through enough. She’s been my only family since my mother died. If I can help her, I will.”
He stepped closer, his presence a wall of heat and muscle. “There are other ways. Herbs. Runes. Time.”
“Time she doesn’t have,” Elara said, her voice cutting through the tension. “The Council’s summons is in two days. Cassian won’t wait. And if Blair can heal me—truly heal me—then she should.”
Kaelen’s jaw tightened. “The ritual requires prolonged contact. Skin to skin. Heart to heart. If her magic flares—”
“Then you’ll be here,” I said, stepping into his space. “To catch me. To hold me. To keep me from falling.”
His breath hitched.
And for the first time, I saw it—the crack in his control. Not just as Alpha. As a man. A man who loved me so fiercely it terrified him.
He didn’t speak.
Just nodded.
—
The ritual chamber was deep within the stronghold, carved from black stone veined with silver, lit by torches that flickered with blue flame. The air hummed with ancient magic, thick and heavy, like the breath of something buried. A low stone altar stood in the center, its surface etched with runes—wolf, fae, witch—languages older than memory.
Elara lay on the altar, her eyes closed, her breathing slow and steady. I stood beside her, my hands trembling. Kaelen stood behind me, his presence a solid weight, his hand resting on the small of my back.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, voice low. “If it’s too much—”
“It’s not,” I said, turning to him. “I need to do this. For her. For me. For us.”
He didn’t argue.
Just stepped back, his golden eyes burning.
I took a deep breath, then sliced open my palm with a silver dagger. Blood welled—crimson, rich, alive—and I pressed my hand to Elara’s chest, just above her heart. The moment the blood touched skin, the air in the chamber crackled. The runes on the walls flared blue, pulsing with ancient magic. Elara gasped, her body arching off the altar, her fingers clutching the stone.
“It’s working,” she said, voice strained. “Keep going.”
I closed my eyes, focusing on the flow of magic, on the connection between us. My blood seeped into her, carrying with it the strength of my lineage, the fire of my will, the truth of my love. I could feel the venom—dark, clinging, like tar in her veins—and I pulled it out, strand by strand, feeding it into the runes, where it burned away in flashes of blue flame.
But the deeper I went, the more my own body rebelled.
My knees trembled. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. My vision blurred. The bond between me and Kaelen pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—but it wasn’t just magic I felt.
It was him.
His fear.
His need.
His love.
And then—
I felt it.
A hand on my waist.
Warm. Steady. His.
Kaelen stepped behind me, his chest to my back, his arms wrapping around me, holding me upright. His breath was hot on my neck, his heartbeat steady against my spine. I leaned into him, drawing strength from his presence, from the unyielding certainty of his body.
“You’re losing too much,” he said, voice rough. “Stop. Let me—”
“No,” I whispered. “Not yet. She’s not done.”
He didn’t argue.
Just held me tighter.
And then—
I saw it.
Not a memory.
Not a vision.
A truth.
Elara, years ago, standing in a hidden chamber beneath the Fae High Court. My mother beside her, blood on her hands, her silver hair glowing in the torchlight. They were whispering, their voices urgent, their eyes sharp with purpose.
“The Contract must be broken,” my mother said. “But not by force. By love.”
“And if she fails?” Elara asked.
“Then she dies,” my mother said. “But if she succeeds—” She looked at Elara, her gaze fierce. “—she’ll save us all.”
And then—
She pressed her palm to Elara’s chest, just above her heart. Blood seeped into her skin, and the runes on the walls flared blue.
“I bind you,” she said. “To protect her. To guide her. To keep her from becoming what they made her.”
The vision faded.
I gasped, my chest heaving, my vision blurred with tears.
Because now I knew.
Elara hadn’t just been my mentor.
She had been my mother’s ally.
Her protector.
Her witness.
And she had been bound to me long before I was born.
“You knew,” I whispered, turning to her. “You knew what she planned. What she sacrificed.”
She opened her eyes, her silver gaze sharp, knowing. “I did. And I would do it again.”
“Why?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why risk everything for me?”
“Because,” she said, “you are not just her daughter. You are her legacy. Her hope. And if anyone can break the Contract, it’s you.”
I didn’t speak.
Just pressed my hand harder to her chest, pouring more of my blood, more of my magic, more of my self into her.
And then—
She gasped.
Her body arched.
And the runes—
They flared.
Blue light exploded through the chamber, blinding, searing. The air crackled with power, with truth, with something deeper—something primal. Elara’s body went still. Her breathing slowed. Her skin glowed faintly, the poison gone, the tear in her magic sealed.
She was healed.
But I—
I collapsed.
Kaelen caught me before I hit the ground, his arms wrapping around me, lifting me against his chest. My vision blurred. My body trembled. My blood was spent. My magic, drained.
“Blair,” he said, voice rough, raw. “Look at me.”
I blinked up at him, my fingers clutching his shirt. “I did it,” I whispered. “She’s healed.”
“You reckless, brilliant woman,” he said, his voice breaking. “You could’ve died.”
“But I didn’t,” I said, my lips curving into a faint smile. “Because you were here.”
He didn’t answer.
Just carried me from the chamber, his steps steady, his grip unyielding.
—
He laid me on the furs in his chambers, the fire roaring in the hearth, the runes on the walls pulsing faintly with residual magic. I was weak—so weak—but I didn’t protest when he stripped off my boots, when he pulled the blanket over me, when he sat beside me, his hand covering mine.
“Sleep,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “I’ll be here.”
“Stay,” I whispered. “Don’t leave me.”
“I won’t,” he said. “Not ever.”
I closed my eyes, letting exhaustion pull me under.
But the dreams came again.
Not of the past.
Not of the future.
Of now.
—
I stood in the ritual chamber, but it wasn’t empty. Kaelen was there, shirtless, his body carved from muscle and scar, his golden eyes blazing. He stood before the altar, his hand pressed to his chest, blood seeping through his fingers.
“You’re hurt,” I said, stepping forward.
“Not me,” he said, his voice rough. “You.”
And then—
I saw it.
Me.
On the altar.
Blood on my hands. Blood on my chest. My eyes closed. My body still.
Dead.
And Kaelen—
He was kneeling beside me, his face buried in my hair, his body shaking with silent sobs. His hand gripped mine, tight, desperate. The bond between us pulsed—faint, fading.
“Don’t leave me,” he whispered. “Not like this. Not after everything.”
And then—
He bit his wrist, pressing it to my lips.
“Take it,” he said, voice breaking. “Take my blood. Take my life. Just come back to me.”
But I didn’t move.
And the bond—
It shattered.
I screamed—
And then—
I was back.
The dream shattered.
—
I gasped, my chest heaving, my vision blurred with tears. The furs were tangled around my legs, the fire in the hearth burned low. The room was dark, but I wasn’t alone.
Kaelen was beside me.
Not sleeping.
Watching.
His golden eyes glowed in the dim light, fierce, unyielding. His hand rested on my hip, warm, steady. The bond between us pulsed—hot, heavy, alive. The mark on my neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
“You saw it,” he said, voice low, rough.
Not a question.
A certainty.
“I saw you,” I whispered. “You thought I was dead. You were begging me to come back.”
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.
“I can’t lose you,” he said, voice raw. “Not after everything. Not after choosing you. Not after loving you.”
My breath caught.
And then—
I kissed him.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Desperate.
My hands fisted in his hair, yanking his head down. My mouth crashed onto his, hot, demanding, possessive. Blood smeared between us, warm, slick. The bond screamed, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper—something primal. The runes on the walls flared, the magic rising, swirling around us like a storm.
And then—
He pulled back.
His lips were wet with my blood. His eyes glowed gold. His chest rose and fell fast.
“You don’t get to say that,” I said, my voice raw. “You don’t get to love me like I’m worth saving.”
“Why not?” he whispered.
“Because I’m not,” I said. “I signed the Contract. I let them enslave your mother. I let them erase your bloodline. And I—” My voice broke. “—I don’t deserve you.”
He didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just reached up, his fingers brushing the mark on my neck. “You kept this. You kept my bite. You kept the one thing that proves I chose you. Not because of duty. Not because of magic. Because I *wanted* to.”
My breath caught.
“So don’t tell me you don’t deserve me,” he said, his voice fierce. “You *do*. Not because you’re perfect. Not because you’re the Alpha. Because you’re *mine*. And I’m yours. And that’s all that matters.”
I didn’t speak.
Just pulled him into my arms, holding him like I’d never let go.
And as the runes on the walls pulsed, the bond humming between us—
I knew.
The Contract was broken.
But our story?
That was just beginning.