The courtyard still hummed with the echo of the pack’s roar—the raw, triumphant sound of loyalty claimed, of truth witnessed, of a new order forged in fire and blood. The bonfires burned lower now, their flames licking at the night sky like dying stars, casting long shadows that danced across the stone. The unmated females had retreated, heads bowed, scents fading into the dark. The elders stood in silence, their eyes sharp with approval. The young wolves howled into the wind, their voices rising like a hymn to the moon.
And in the center—
Us.
Blair and me.
Still on our knees, her hands framing my face, her dark eyes searching mine. Her lips were swollen from the kiss, her breath coming fast, her scent—storm and iron, wild and unyielding—wrapping around me like a vow. The bond pulsed between us, hot, heavy, alive. The mark on her neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
I hadn’t planned this.
Not the kneeling. Not the bite. Not the words.
But when I looked at her—when I saw the fear in her eyes, the way her fingers trembled against my skin, the way her breath hitched like she was holding back a scream—I knew I couldn’t do it any other way.
I couldn’t give the pack tradition.
I couldn’t give them ritual.
I had to give them truth.
And the truth was this: I didn’t want another. I didn’t want power. I didn’t want control.
I wanted her.
Not because of the bond.
Not because of the Contract.
Not because of magic.
Because she was the only one who’d ever looked at me and seen the man, not the Alpha. The only one who’d ever made me feel like I was worth saving. The only one who’d ever made me want to be better.
And I—
I was done pretending I didn’t love her.
—
But Mira wasn’t done.
She lay on the stone where Blair had thrown her, her crimson gown torn at the shoulder, her wrist twisted from the struggle. The vial was shattered, the venom sizzling into the cracks like acid. But she wasn’t broken. Not yet.
She laughed—a low, melodic sound that cut through the silence like a blade.
“How… touching,” she said, pushing herself up on one elbow. Her eyes locked onto Blair, cold as winter. “The Alpha, on his knees. The challenger, in his arms. How poetic.”
Blair didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just stood, pulling me with her, her hand tight in mine. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
“You don’t belong here,” Blair said, voice steady.
“Oh, but I do,” Mira said, standing slowly, brushing dust from her gown. “Because I have something you need.” She held up a second vial—smaller, darker, pulsing with something foul. “This is fae venom. Stronger than wolfbane. Stronger than silver. One drop, and the bond between you shatters. One sip, and the claiming is undone.”
My spine went rigid.
Another vial.
Another lie.
But this one—
This one was real.
I could smell it. The venom. The glamour. The desperation.
“You’re lying,” I growled, stepping in front of Blair. “You’ve been trying to steal me since the moment we arrived. You can’t have me, so you forge a bond that doesn’t exist?”
“And yet,” she said, stepping closer, “my scent is on your skin. Your fangs left this mark.” She touched the bite on her neck—fresh, deep, real. “You were in my bed just last night.”
Blair stepped in front of me, her voice low, dangerous. “Lies. Glamour. You don’t get to twist love into something ugly.”
“Prove it’s fake,” Mira 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 turned to ice.
She wasn’t just attacking Blair.
She was attacking us.
And she was winning.
Because the pack was watching. The elders were silent. The young wolves held their breath.
And doubt—
Doubt was a poison stronger than venom.
“You don’t get to do this,” Blair said, stepping forward. “You don’t get to poison the truth.”
“And yet,” Mira said, “here we are.”
And then—
She raised the vial.
“One drop,” she said. “And the bond is broken. One sip, and you’re free.”
Blair lunged.
Not for the vial.
For her.
Her hand closed around Mira’s wrist, twisting hard. The vial shattered, dark liquid splashing onto the stone, sizzling like acid.
And then—
She slammed her into the ground.
“You don’t get to touch him,” Blair hissed, voice low, dangerous. “You don’t get to lie about him. You don’t get to use him.”
Mira gasped, her eyes wide with shock.
And then—
She smiled.
“You’re weak,” she said. “You let love make you weak. And that’s why you’ll lose.”
Blair didn’t answer.
Just stood, pulling me with her.
And as we walked away, the pack roaring behind us, the bond humming between us—
I knew.
The real battle wasn’t against Cassian.
It wasn’t against the Council.
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.
—
The stronghold was quiet when we returned, the wolves moving through the halls with a new purpose, their eyes sharp, their steps sure. The air hummed with loyalty, with magic, with something deeper: hope. The bond between Blair and me pulsed beneath my skin, steady, deep, real. The mark on her neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
But the peace didn’t last.
By nightfall, the dreams returned.
Not just hers.
Not just mine.
Ours.
—
I stood in the Fae High Court, but it wasn’t the cold, gilded chamber I knew. The marble was cracked, veined with silver like frozen lightning. The chandeliers hung crooked, their crystals shattered. The air smelled of blood and ozone, of something ancient and broken. And in the center—
The Contract.
But it wasn’t parchment anymore.
It was alive.
Not just pulsing. Not just shifting.
Watching.
Its silver veins throbbed, the black ink writhing like serpents beneath the surface. 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.”
I didn’t flinch. “We’re not here to destroy. We’re here to see. To know.”
“To claim,” it corrected. “To fulfill. To break.”
“Then show us,” I said, voice steady. “Show us the truth.”
The Contract pulsed.
And then—
Transfer.
The world blurred.
Reformed.
I stood in a hidden chamber beneath the Court—same stone, same silver veins—but older, colder. And in the center—
My mother.
She was on her knees, blood on her hands, her silver hair matted with sweat. But her eyes—sharp, defiant—locked onto mine.
“You’ve found it,” she said, voice weak but steady.
“Found what?” I asked, stepping forward.
“The truth,” she said. “That the Contract was never meant to enslave. It was meant to protect. To keep your bloodline safe from those who would exploit your magic.”
“Then why did it bind Kaelen?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why did it force us together?”
She looked at me—really looked at me. “Because love,” she said, “is the only magic strong enough to break a curse.”
And then—
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 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.
Blair was beside me.
Not watching.
Shaking.
Her dark eyes were wide, her chest rising and falling fast. Her hand gripped mine, tight, desperate. The bond pulsed between us—hot, heavy, alive. The mark on her neck throbbed faintly, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
“You saw it,” I said, voice trembling.
She didn’t answer.
Just pulled me into her arms, holding me like I was the only thing keeping her alive.
And then—
She whispered, “I’m afraid.”
My breath caught.
Blair. The challenger. The destroyer. The woman who had faced down Cassian, who had shattered lies, who had claimed me in front of her pack.
Afraid.
“Of what?” I asked, my fingers brushing her jaw.
“Of losing you,” she said, voice raw. “Of not being enough. Of failing you. Of becoming what they made me—what the Contract wants me to be. A monster. A killer. A destroyer.”
My chest tightened.
Because I knew that fear.
It lived in me too.
“You’re not a monster,” I said, pulling her closer, my forehead pressing to hers. “You’re not a killer. You’re a woman who made an impossible choice. And I—” I cupped her face, my thumbs brushing her cheeks. “—I love you for it.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Violent.
Her hands fisted in my hair, yanking my head down. Her mouth crashed onto mine, hot, demanding, possessive. A growl rumbled in my chest, vibrating through my bones. The bond between us burned, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper.
And the room—
It went silent.
When I pulled back, my lips were wet with her blood. Her eyes glowed gold. Her chest rose and falls 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?” she 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.”
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just reached up, her 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,” she said, her 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 her into my arms, holding her 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.
—
The next morning, the stronghold was quiet—too quiet. No wolves in the corridors. No voices in the halls. Just silence, thick and suffocating.
“Where is everyone?” Blair asked, her hand on the dagger at her belt.
“The Moon Festival,” I said, my voice low. “They’re still gathered in the courtyard. But something’s wrong.”
And then—
We heard it.
A scream.
High-pitched. Terrified.
From the courtyard.
We ran.
Down the winding stone stairs, through the torch-lit corridors, the bond between us tugging with every step. The scream came again—cut off abruptly. And then—
Laughter.
Smooth. Cold. Familiar.
Cassian.
We burst into the courtyard—and froze.
The bonfires were out. The drums were silent. The pack stood in a tight circle, their heads bowed, their claws retracted, their fangs hidden. And in the center—
Cassian.
He stood beside a stone pedestal, his hand resting on a silver cage. Inside—
Elara.
Her silver hair was matted with blood. Her wrists were bound in silver cuffs that hissed against her skin. But her eyes—sharp, defiant—locked onto mine the moment I stepped forward.
“You came,” she said, voice weak but steady.
“Of course I came,” Blair said, stepping forward, her fingers tightening on her dagger. “I thought you were safe.”
“I was,” she said. “Until he ambushed me in the infirmary. Knocked out Riven. Took me before anyone could react.”
My blood ran cold.
Riven.
Was he alive?
Cassian smiled. “You should thank me, Blair. I’ve given you a gift.”
“A gift?” Blair spat. “You kidnapped my mentor. You violated the Stronghold. You—”
“I’ve given you a *choice*,” he said, stepping forward. “One final chance to do the right thing.”
“And what’s that?” I growled, stepping in front of Blair, my presence a wall of muscle and fury.
“Break the bond,” Cassian said. “Sever it. Let the Contract rewrite itself. Return to the way things were.”
“Never,” Blair said.
“Then she dies,” he said, pressing a finger to the cage. The silver flared, and Elara screamed, her body convulsing as the venom burned through her.
“Stop it!” Blair shouted, lunging forward.
I grabbed her arm, holding her back. “It’s a trap,” I said, voice low. “He wants you to break the bond. He wants you to destroy us.”
“I don’t care,” Blair said, her voice breaking. “I won’t let him hurt her.”
Cassian snarled, pressing his hand to the cage again.
Elara screamed.
And Blair—
She stepped forward.
Not to attack.
Not to beg.
To claim.
She turned to me, her dark eyes locking onto my golden ones. “I choose you,” she said, voice steady. “Not because of the bond. Not because of magic. Because of love.”
And then—
She kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Violent.
Her hands fisted in my hair, yanking my head down. Her mouth crashed onto mine, hot, demanding, possessive. A growl rumbled in my chest, vibrating through my bones. The bond between us burned, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper—something primal.
And the courtyard—
It erupted.
The wolves roared—approval, loyalty, truth. The silver cage cracked. The sigils on Cassian’s robes flared—and then splintered.
He screamed.
Not from pain.
From fear.
Because he saw it.
The bond wasn’t just unbroken.
It was stronger.
And then—
I pulled back, my lips wet with her blood. My eyes glowed gold. My chest rose and falls fast.
“You want a choice?” I said, stepping toward Cassian. “Here’s mine.”
I lunged.
Not for the cage.
For him.
My hand closed around his throat, slamming him against the stone pedestal. The cage shattered. Elara collapsed to the ground, the cuffs dissolving into ash.
“You’re done,” I growled. “No more games. No more lies. The Contract is broken. And if you come near her again—”
“You’ll what?” Cassian choked. “Kill me? You can’t. I’m Council.”
“Then I’ll exile you,” I said. “And if you ever return, I’ll rip your heart out myself.”
I dropped him.
Cassian stumbled back, his eyes filled with hate.
But he didn’t fight.
Because he knew.
The game was over.
Blair rushed to Elara, dropping to her knees beside her. “I’ve got you,” she whispered, working at the cuffs. “I’ve got you.”
She winced as the silver burned her wrists. “You didn’t give in,” she said, voice weak. “You chose love.”
“I chose truth,” Blair said. “And truth is stronger than fear.”
She smiled. “Then it’s working. The Contract—it’s not just broken. It’s *transformed*.”
I stepped beside her, my hand warm on the small of her back. “We should go,” I said. “Before he brings reinforcements.”
She nodded, helping Elara to her feet. “Where?”
“Home,” I said. “My pack. My den. My life.” I cupped her face, my thumb brushing her cheek. “If you want it.”
She smiled. “I want it.”
And as we walked out of the courtyard, the bond between us stronger than ever—
I knew.
The Contract was broken.
But our bond?
That was just beginning.