The silence in the Council Chamber was heavier than stone, thick with the weight of revelation and the stench of lies finally exposed. The vision from Elara’s vial still hung in the air like smoke—Kaelen, young and bloodied, the quill in his hand, the dagger at his throat, Cassian’s voice cold as ice: *“Sign. Or watch them burn.”* The runes on the walls pulsed faintly, their light dimming as the magic faded, but the truth remained. Unshakable. Undeniable.
And yet—
Cassian didn’t break.
He smiled.
Slow. Calculated. Like a predator who’d just been handed a new game.
“How… *convenient*,” he said, stepping forward, his robes whispering against the marble. “A memory, conjured from a vial, presented by a witch with a vested interest in the outcome. Tell me, Blair—did you *know* about this? Did you plan this little performance all along? Seduce the Alpha, bind him with bond-heat, then fabricate a memory to paint him as a victim?”
My spine went rigid.
But I didn’t flinch.
Just stepped forward, my boots clicking against the stone, my hand still locked in Kaelen’s. The bond pulsed between us—hot, heavy, alive. The mark on my neck throbbed, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
“You think I’d need to fabricate anything?” I said, my voice steady. “You think I’d need to seduce him? That I’d need to manipulate him? Look at him.” I turned to Kaelen, my dark eyes locking onto his golden ones. “He didn’t sign the Contract because he wanted to. He signed it because you gave him no choice. And if you think for one second that I—” I gestured to myself, to my blood, to my magic, to the life I’d clawed from the shadows—“would ever need to lie to claim what’s already mine, then you don’t know me. And you never did.”
The nobles murmured. Some looked uncertain. Some looked afraid. But all watched. All waited.
Cassian’s smile didn’t waver. “And what about the bond? The so-called *mate bond*? Is that real? Or is it just the Contract’s curse, twisting two souls into a lie?”
“It’s real,” Elara said, stepping forward, her silver hair gleaming in the torchlight. “I’ve seen it. Felt it. The bond between Blair and Kaelen isn’t cursed. It’s *chosen*. And it’s stronger than any oath you’ve ever written.”
“You’re a witch,” Cassian said, his voice sharp. “You’re biased. You’ve been hiding in the shadows, feeding her lies, twisting her mind—”
“And you’re a fae lord,” I snapped, cutting him off. “A man who built his power on the backs of hybrids, on the blood of my mother, on the silence of those too afraid to speak. But I’m not afraid. And I’m not silent. And if you want to call this bond a lie—” I turned to Kaelen, my heart hammering—“then let’s prove it.”
His golden eyes burned. “How?”
“The Trial of Truth,” I said, my voice ringing through the chamber. “The ancient rite. Blood to blood. Mind to mind. Let them see what we’ve seen. Let them *feel* what we’ve felt.”
The gasps were immediate.
The Trial of Truth was forbidden for a reason. It wasn’t just a test of honesty. It was a merging of souls—a forced sharing of memories, emotions, desires. It could break a person. It could destroy a bond. But it could also reveal the absolute truth.
And I was done hiding.
“You’re insane,” Cassian said, his voice low. “You’d risk your mind? Your magic? For a *show*?”
“Not for a show,” I said. “For justice. For my mother. For every hybrid who’s ever been silenced. Let them see the truth. Let them *know*.”
He didn’t answer.
Just turned to the Council. “The challenger demands the Trial of Truth. Do you accept?”
The nobles exchanged glances. Some looked horrified. Some looked intrigued. But in the end, it didn’t matter what they thought.
Because Kaelen stepped forward.
“I accept,” he said, his voice a low growl. “But not just me. You too, Cassian. If you’re so certain the bond is a lie, then prove it. Step into the circle. Share our truth. Let them see what you’ve done.”
The chamber went still.
Even the torches seemed to hold their breath.
Cassian’s smile finally cracked. “You’re asking me to risk my mind? My power? For *this*?”
“No,” Kaelen said, stepping closer. “I’m giving you a choice. Just like you gave me. Sign the truth—or watch your lies burn.”
For a heartbeat, I thought he’d refuse.
Then—
He nodded.
“So be it.”
—
The Trial of Truth required a circle—etched in silver, lined with runes of binding and revelation. The chamber was cleared, the nobles stepping back, their eyes wide. Riven and Elara stood at the edge, their presence a quiet promise. The wolves flanked us, silent, watchful, their loyalty a wall of muscle and fury.
Kaelen and I stepped into the circle, hand in hand. The runes flared beneath our feet, blue and searing, the air crackling with ancient magic. Cassian followed, his steps slow, his expression unreadable. He took his place across from us, his hands clasped, his gaze sharp.
“The Trial begins,” Elara said, her voice echoing through the chamber. “Blood to blood. Mind to mind. Truth shall be revealed.”
She handed us each a silver dagger.
I didn’t hesitate.
I sliced open my palm, blood welling—crimson, rich, alive. Kaelen did the same, his blood dark and thick, his grip steady. We pressed our hands together, palm to palm, blood mingling, the bond between us screaming with power.
And then—
Cassian did the same.
Our blood dripped onto the runes.
And the world—
It shattered.
—
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, whole, unbroken. The chandeliers sparkled, the marble gleamed. And in the center—
Us.
Hand in hand. Marked. Claimed. Bound.
And beside us—
Cassian.
He stood, his face pale, his eyes filled with hate. But he didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Because the Council was with us. The pack was with us. The truth was with us.
And then—
We stepped forward.
Not to attack.
Not to threaten.
To claim.
I turned to Kaelen, my dark eyes locking onto his golden ones. “I choose you,” I said, voice steady. “Not because of the bond. Not because of magic. Because of love.”
And then—
I kissed him.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Violent.
My hands fisted in his hair, yanking his head down. My mouth crashed onto his, hot, demanding, possessive. A growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through my bones. The bond between us burned, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper—something primal.
And the chamber—
It erupted.
The wolves roared—approval, loyalty, truth. The silver chains shattered. 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—
Kaelen pulled back, his lips wet with my blood. His eyes glowed gold. His chest rose and falls fast.
“You want a choice?” he said, stepping toward Cassian. “Here’s mine.”
He lunged.
Not for the chains.
For him.
His hand closed around Cassian’s throat, slamming him against the wall. The chains shattered. The sigils splintered. And then—
He dropped him.
Cassian stumbled back, his eyes filled with hate.
But he didn’t fight.
Because he knew.
The game was over.
And then—
The vision shifted.
Not memory.
Not dream.
Truth.
We stood in Kaelen’s chambers, the fire roaring, the furs piled high. The bond pulsed between us, hot, heavy, alive. The mark on my neck throbbed, a constant reminder. Mine. Claimed. Bound.
And then—
He kissed me.
Not hard. Not desperate.
Soft. Slow. Aching.
His lips moved against mine, gentle, searching. One hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek. The other gripped my wrist, the one that had borne the chain.
And the chain—
It pulsed.
Not with magic.
With connection.
I pulled him closer, my arms wrapping around his waist, lifting me slightly. My legs wrapped around his hips, my body pressing into his. The kiss deepened, our tongues meeting, slow and sweet and real.
And then—
He laid me down on the furs.
Slow. Deliberate.
His hands—calloused, warm—glided over my body, tracing the curve of my spine, the dip of my waist, the swell of my hips. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper.
“You’re trembling,” he said, voice rough.
“It’s the magic,” I said, my voice breaking.
“No,” he said. “It’s not.”
His hands moved lower, gliding over the curve of my ass, his thumbs brushing the sensitive skin where thigh met hip. I gasped, my body arching into his touch.
“Blair,” he growled.
“Don’t stop,” I whispered.
And he didn’t.
His mouth found my breast, his lips closing over my nipple, hot and wet, his tongue swirling in slow circles. I cried out, my fingers tangling in his hair, my hips lifting off the furs. The bond screamed, a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper—something primal.
And then—
He moved lower.
His hands slid up my thighs, spreading them, his breath hot on my core. I tensed—
“Wait—”
“Look at me,” he said, his voice rough.
I did.
Golden eyes. Burning. Fierce. Mine.
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m not going to take. I’m going to love you.”
And then—
He kissed me.
Not on the mouth.
On my clit.
Slow. Gentle. Aching.
I gasped, my back arching, my fingers clutching the furs. His tongue moved in slow circles, his hands holding my hips, his breath hot and steady. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper.
And then—
He added a finger.
Sliding inside me, slow, deep, perfect.
I cried out, my body trembling, my magic flaring. The runes on the walls flared blue, the air crackling with power. But I didn’t care. I was too lost. Too full. Too his.
“Kaelen—”
“Come for me,” he growled, his voice muffled against my skin. “Let me feel you. Let me taste you. Let me know you.”
And I did.
The climax tore through me like a storm, sharp and bright and real. My body convulsed, my magic spiraling, the bond screaming as pleasure ripped through every nerve. He didn’t stop. Didn’t pull back. Just held me, his mouth and fingers working me through it, until I collapsed, gasping, trembling, shattered.
And then—
He moved.
Crawling up my body, his cock hard and heavy against my thigh. He looked down at me—eyes golden, chest heaving, lips wet with me.
“Now,” he said, voice rough. “Now I take what’s mine.”
And then—
He entered me.
Slow. Deep. Perfect.
I gasped, my body stretching to take him, my fingers clutching his arms. He didn’t move at first. Just stayed there, buried inside me, his forehead pressed to mine, his breath hot on my lips.
“You feel that?” he whispered. “That’s not the bond. That’s not magic. That’s us.”
I nodded, tears burning my eyes.
Because it was.
It was real.
And then—
He moved.
Slow at first. Deep. Aching. Each thrust sending waves of pleasure through me. His hands gripped my hips, holding me in place, his mouth finding mine, our tongues tangling, our breaths mingling. The bond pulsed—hot, heavy, alive—a pulse of heat, of magic, of something deeper.
And then—
I felt it.
The shift.
Not just in him.
In us.
The magic wasn’t flaring.
It was fusing.
Our bodies. Our souls. Our bond.
And then—
He bit me.
Not on the neck.
Not to claim.
On the shoulder.
Hard. Deep. Ours.
I screamed—
Not from pain.
From completion.
The climax tore through me again, sharper, brighter, deeper. His body tensed, his cock pulsing inside me as he came, his growl vibrating through my bones. The runes on the walls flared, the bond screaming as we shattered together, as we became.
And when it was over—
We didn’t speak.
Didn’t move.
Just lay there, tangled in the furs, our bodies slick with sweat, our breaths mingling, the bond humming between us—hot, heavy, alive.
And then—
He pulled me close, his chest to my back, his arms wrapping around me, his cock still inside me, softening but still there.
“You’re mine,” he whispered, his breath hot on my neck.
“And you’re mine,” I said, my voice breaking.
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 vision faded.
And the chamber—
It was silent.
No gasps. No murmurs. No whispers.
Just stillness.
And then—
Cassian screamed.
Not from pain.
From rage.
He tore out of the circle, his robes flaring, his face twisted with fury. “Lies! All of it! Fabricated! Twisted! You’ve corrupted the Trial—”
But no one moved.
No one backed him.
Because they’d seen it.
They’d *felt* it.
The truth wasn’t in words.
It was in the way Kaelen’s hands trembled as he touched me.
In the way my body arched into his.
In the way we *became*.
And then—
The Council Elder stepped forward.
An ancient fae, her hair silver, her eyes sharp. She looked at me. At Kaelen. At Cassian.
“The Trial of Truth has spoken,” she said, her voice echoing through the chamber. “The bond is real. The memory is true. The Contract—” she turned to Cassian—“is broken.”
Cassian staggered back, his face pale.
“No,” he whispered. “It can’t be—”
“It is,” she said. “And you are stripped of your title. Exiled from the Court. If you return, you will be executed.”
He didn’t argue.
Just turned and fled.
And as the doors slammed behind him—
The chamber erupted.
Not in anger.
Not in protest.
In cheers.
The wolves roared. The nobles whispered. The runes on the walls pulsed with a new light—blue and gold, not silver and black.
And I—
I stood there, my hand in Kaelen’s, the bond humming between us.
Because the Contract was broken.
But our bond?
That was just beginning.