The fire had burned low by morning, embers glowing like dying stars in the hearth. I woke stiff and aching, my body still humming with the residue of bond-heat, like a storm had passed through me and left its lightning behind. Kaelen hadn’t moved from the chair. He sat with his back straight, eyes closed, but I knew he wasn’t sleeping. Werewolves didn’t sleep like humans. They rested. They listened. They waited.
And he’d been waiting on me.
I sat up slowly, the chain between us tugging just enough to remind me it was still there—warm, insistent, alive. My wrist throbbed faintly where the silver bit into my skin, a constant echo of his presence. I rubbed it, wincing. Last night’s revelation still burned in my chest: Kaelen hadn’t signed the Contract willingly. He’d been forced. Threatened. Broken, just like my mother. Just like me.
And yet—
I couldn’t forget the way his thumb had brushed my wrist, the way my body had arched toward him, the way my nipple had tightened under my dress like it had a mind of its own. That wasn’t just magic. That was desire. Raw, unfiltered, and terrifying.
“You’re awake,” he said, eyes still closed.
“You’re observant,” I muttered, swinging my legs off the bed.
He opened his eyes then—gold, sharp, unreadable. “The Council has summoned us. A joint session. They want to assess the bond.”
“Assess?” I stood, smoothing my wrinkled uniform. “Or exploit?”
“Both,” he said, rising in one fluid motion. He didn’t stretch. Didn’t yawn. Just moved like a blade sliding from its sheath. “They’ll want to see if we’re a threat. If the bond is stable. If we can be controlled.”
“And can we?” I challenged, stepping toward him. The chain tightened slightly as I closed the distance. “Are we controlled?”
His gaze dropped to my mouth. “Not even close.”
A shiver ran through me. Not from fear. From something darker. Deeper. The air between us crackled—charged with memory, with heat, with the unspoken truth that neither of us could ignore: the bond wasn’t just political. It wasn’t just magical.
It was sexual.
And it was winning.
“We should go,” he said, turning toward the door. “They won’t wait.”
I followed, my mind racing. The Council would expect hostility. Distrust. A power struggle. And I was ready to give it to them—just not the kind they anticipated. If Kaelen hadn’t been the villain, then the real enemy was still out there. Cassian. My uncle. The architect of the Contract. And if the Council wanted a show, I’d give them one.
But not yet.
First, I needed leverage.
We walked in silence through the halls, the chain between us a leash neither of us could break. Whispers followed us like shadows.
“Look, it’s the Alpha’s bound pet.”
“No, didn’t you hear? She challenged the Contract. They’re both under investigation.”
“She’s half-breed. How did she even get in?”
I kept my head high. Let them talk. Let them underestimate me. I’d spent my life being invisible. Now, I was seen. And if they thought I was just a pawn, they were already dead.
The Council Chamber loomed ahead—a vast, circular hall with a domed ceiling painted with constellations that shifted as you moved. Fae nobles sat in gilded thrones along the perimeter. Vampires in dark robes stood like statues. Werewolf enforcers lined the walls, their eyes tracking every movement. And at the center, the dais—where the Contract rested on a pedestal of black stone, its parchment glowing faintly, as if breathing.
Kaelen and I stepped forward, the chain between us catching the light. Every eye turned to us.
Lord Cassian rose from his throne—tall, elegant, his silver hair pulled back, his smile sharp as a knife. My mother’s brother. My blood. And the man who had signed her into slavery.
“Ah,” he said, voice smooth as poisoned honey. “The bound pair. How… touching.”
I didn’t flinch. “You summoned us. Let’s not waste time with pleasantries.”
A ripple of shock ran through the chamber. No one spoke to Cassian like that. No one.
But he only smiled wider. “Spoken like a true rebel. Tell me, Blair—do you truly believe you can dismantle centuries of order with a tantrum and a stolen uniform?”
“I don’t need centuries of order,” I said. “I need justice. For my mother. For every hybrid whose name was erased. For every woman who bled so your kind could feast on their magic.”
“Dramatic,” he mused. “But irrelevant. The Contract stands. It was signed in blood. It was sealed by magic. It cannot be broken.”
“It already has,” Kaelen said, voice low, dangerous. “It rewrote itself. Bound us. That’s not stability. That’s evolution. And evolution can be directed.”
Cassian’s smile faltered. Just for a second. But I saw it. He hadn’t expected Kaelen to side with me. Not yet.
“Then we must stabilize the bond,” Cassian said smoothly. “Before it destabilizes the Council. A ritual—tonight. In the Moon Chamber. Skin-to-skin contact. Synchronized breathing. A show of unity.”
My stomach dropped.
“A bonding ritual?” I said. “You want us to—”
“Not a claiming,” Cassian interrupted. “A stabilization. To prove you’re not a threat. To prove the bond can be controlled.”
“And if we refuse?” Kaelen asked.
“Then you’ll be separated by force,” Cassian said. “And the challenger”—he looked at me—“will be imprisoned for treason.”
I clenched my jaw. They were boxing us in. Forcing our hands. But they didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know what the bond had shown me.
“We’ll do it,” I said.
Kaelen glanced at me, surprised.
“Good,” Cassian said. “The ritual begins at moonrise. Don’t be late.”
We turned to leave, the chain tugging between us. But before we reached the door, a voice stopped us.
“Kaelen.”
Feminine. Sweet. Familiar.
I turned.
She stood in the archway—slender, graceful, dressed in a silk gown the color of moonlight. Her hair was long, silver-blonde, cascading over one shoulder. Her lips were painted blood-red. And around her neck?
A man’s shirt.
My breath caught.
It was Kaelen’s. I’d seen it in his suite. Black. Tailored. With a wolf sigil embroidered on the cuff.
And she was wearing it.
“Mira,” Kaelen said, voice flat.
She smiled, stepping forward. “I was just telling everyone about last night.” Her gaze flicked to me. “How… thorough you were.”
The chamber fell silent.
My pulse roared in my ears.
“Last night?” I said, voice dangerously calm.
Mira tilted her head. “Oh, you didn’t know? Kaelen came to my chambers after the summit. Stayed until dawn.” She touched the shirt. “He even left me a little… memento.”
And then she turned her head.
On her shoulder—a bite mark. Fresh. Red. Glowing faintly with residual magic.
A werewolf’s mark.
My stomach dropped.
No.
It couldn’t be.
Kaelen hadn’t—
“That’s a lie,” Kaelen said, voice a low growl.
Mira laughed, soft and melodic. “Ask the guards. Ask the servants. They saw you leave my room. They saw the mark.” She ran a finger over it. “He’s very passionate when he claims someone.”
My hands clenched into fists. The bond between us pulsed—a wave of heat, of fury, of something darker. My magic flared, uncontrolled. The air around me shimmered. My vision blurred.
“Blair,” Kaelen said, stepping toward me. “Don’t—”
But I was already moving.
I shoved past him, storming toward Mira. The chain snapped taut, but I didn’t care. My magic surged, hot and wild. I grabbed her arm, yanking her close.
“You lying little slut,” I hissed. “You think I don’t know a glamour when I see one? That mark isn’t real. You forged it. Just like you forged that shirt.”
Her smile didn’t waver. “Prove it.”
I did.
I pressed my palm to the bite mark and pulled.
My magic—bloodline magic, truth-seeing—ripped through the illusion. The mark flickered. Faded. Revealing smooth, unbroken skin beneath.
The chamber gasped.
Mira yanked back, her mask slipping. “You—”
“You’re a fraud,” I spat. “And a coward. You can’t have him, so you try to steal him with lies?”
“I don’t need to steal him,” she sneered. “He came to me. He wanted me. And he’ll come again.”
“No,” Kaelen said, stepping between us. His voice was ice. “I didn’t. I’ve never touched you. And if you wear my clothes again, I’ll burn them off your body.”
Mira’s eyes flashed. “You’ll regret this.”
“I already do,” he said. “For wasting my time on you.”
She stormed off, the crowd parting for her like water. But the damage was done.
Whispers followed. Doubt. Speculation. And worse—jealousy.
Because even though I’d exposed her lie, even though I knew the truth—
My body still ached.
Not from the bond-heat.
From something else.
From the image of Kaelen in another woman’s bed. From the thought of his mouth on her skin. From the idea that he might have wanted her.
And that terrified me.
Because it meant I cared.
And caring was weakness.
“We should go,” Kaelen said, turning to me.
I didn’t answer. I just walked, the chain tugging between us like a noose. My mind raced. The ritual tonight. Mira’s lie. Cassian’s trap. And Kaelen—cold, controlled, untouched.
But not unaffected.
I’d seen the way his jaw tightened when Mira spoke. The way his eyes burned when I exposed her. He wasn’t indifferent.
He was angry.
And for me?
I didn’t let myself hope.
We returned to the suite in silence. The tension between us was thicker than before—charged with unspoken words, with jealousy, with the memory of his thumb on my wrist, of his breath on my neck.
“You should rest,” he said, pacing. “The ritual will require focus. Control.”
“I’m not tired,” I lied.
“You’re shaking.”
I looked down. My hands were trembling. From rage. From magic. From the bond.
“I’m fine,” I snapped.
He stopped, turning to me. “Blair.”
“Don’t,” I said, backing up. “Don’t pretend you care. Don’t pretend this bond means anything more than political convenience.”
“It’s not just political,” he said, stepping closer. “You know that.”
“Then what is it?” I challenged. “Because last I checked, you were too busy fucking other women to notice.”
“I didn’t—”
“Don’t lie to me!” I shouted. “You could have denied it faster. You could have looked angrier. But you didn’t. You hesitated. And that tells me everything.”
He closed the distance in one step, his hand gripping my wrist—the one bound by the chain. His touch burned.
“I didn’t touch her,” he growled. “I’ve never touched her. I’ve never wanted her. The only woman I’ve thought about since this bond began is you.”
My breath caught.
“Then why?” I whispered. “Why do I feel like this? Why does my body burn for you? Why do I care?”
“Because the bond knows the truth,” he said, voice rough. “Even if you don’t.”
“And what truth is that?”
He didn’t answer.
He just pulled me forward, his other hand sliding to the small of my back. The chain hummed. My pulse roared.
And then—
The ritual began.
His palm pressed to my lower back, warm, firm. His breath was hot on my neck. He guided me into position—chest to chest, forehead to forehead.
“Breathe with me,” he said.
I tried. But my breath was ragged, uneven. My body trembled. His scent wrapped around me—pine, smoke, wild earth. My nipples tightened. My thighs pressed together.
“Slower,” he murmured. “Match my rhythm.”
I forced myself to inhale—deep, slow. He exhaled. I inhaled again. Our breaths synced. The bond pulsed, calmer now. The heat in my veins eased.
But the desire?
That only grew.
His hand slid higher, up my spine, beneath my hair. His fingers brushed the nape of my neck. A shiver ran through me.
“You’re fighting it,” he said.
“I’m not—”
“Yes, you are. Your muscles are tense. Your heart is racing. You’re resisting the bond.”
“Because I don’t want this,” I lied.
“You do,” he said. “You just don’t want to want it.”
His thumb stroked the sensitive skin behind my ear. My breath hitched. My body leaned into him, traitorous, hungry.
“Stop,” I whispered.
“Make me,” he said.
And then—
The door opened.
We broke apart just in time.
Mira stood in the doorway, smiling sweetly.
“Oh,” she said. “Am I interrupting?”
My blood turned to ice.
She stepped inside, closing the door behind her. “I just came to return your shirt, Kaelen.” She held it up. “Though I must say, it looked better on me.”
Kaelen didn’t answer. He just stared at her, golden eyes blazing.
“You should know,” she said, stepping closer, “that the Council is already talking. They say the bond is weakening. That you’re losing control. That she”—she looked at me—“is corrupting you.”
“Leave,” Kaelen said.
“Or what?” she purred. “You’ll lock me in a cell? You already did. And look how well that worked.”
My magic flared. “Get out.”
She laughed. “Or you’ll do what? Expose another lie? Break another glamour? You’re good at that, aren’t you? But you can’t break the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” I said.
She smiled. “That he’ll never choose you. That he’ll never claim you. That no matter how much you burn for him, you’ll always be the half-breed. The outsider. The challenger.”
My hands clenched.
“You don’t know anything,” I said.
“I know he didn’t mark you,” she said. “I know he hasn’t touched you. I know he’ll never—”
“Get. Out.”
The voice wasn’t mine.
It was Kaelen’s.
Low. Raw. Feral.
Mira froze.
For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
“Now,” Kaelen said.
She turned and fled.
The door slammed shut.
Silence.
And then—
“She’s wrong,” he said, turning to me. “About everything.”
My heart pounded.
“Then prove it,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer.
He just stepped forward, closing the distance between us.
And then—
The chain pulsed.
Hot. Heavy. Hungry.
And I knew—
The ritual wasn’t just about control.
It was about surrender.
And I wasn’t sure I could survive it.