The dream didn’t fade with the morning light. It clung to me like a second skin—warm, insistent, real. I woke with Kaelen’s arm draped over my waist, his breath steady against my neck, the bond humming between us like a low, constant thrum. The mark on my shoulder, the one he’d left during the Mating Moon, pulsed faintly, a quiet echo of the night we’d claimed each other not out of magic or obligation, but need. Desire. Love.
But it wasn’t the bond that kept me from moving.
It was the weight of what I’d seen in the dream—the council chamber filled with light, the factions seated together, the tree of the Contract alive and strong, its roots deep in truth, its branches stretching toward justice. And us. Not as conquerors. Not as avengers. But as guardians. As founders.
I turned my head, just slightly, and looked at Kaelen.
His face was relaxed in sleep, his golden eyes hidden behind closed lids, his jaw unclenched for once. No nightmares. No guilt. Just peace. And I wondered—did he dream the same? Or was it just me, my magic stirring, my blood remembering the promise I’d made when I wrote the first law in my own blood?
As if sensing my thoughts, his fingers twitched against my hip, then tightened. His voice, when it came, was rough with sleep but clear.
“You’re thinking again.”
I didn’t deny it. “I dreamed it.”
He opened his eyes. Golden. Burning. Knowing.
“The council,” he said.
I nodded.
He didn’t look surprised. Just pulled me closer, his chest to my back, his lips brushing the mark on my neck. “Then it’s not a dream,” he murmured. “It’s a vision. And if it’s a vision, it’s a warning.”
My breath caught. “What kind of warning?”
“That they’ll come,” he said, voice low. “Not just one. Not just a fae lord in the woods. They’ll come in force. They’ll test the law. They’ll test you.”
I turned in his arms, facing him. “Let them.”
He studied me—his gaze sharp, searching. “You’re not afraid.”
“I am,” I admitted. “But not of them. I’m afraid of failing. Of letting someone else suffer because I hesitated. Because I doubted. Because I was afraid of power.”
His hand cupped my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek. “You’re not afraid of power anymore. You’re afraid of responsibility. And that’s the difference between a tyrant and a leader.”
Tears burned my eyes.
Because he saw me. Not just the mate. Not just the witch. Not just the woman who had clawed her way through lies and blood to get here.
He saw the part of me I was still learning to trust—the part that wanted to do more than survive. The part that wanted to build.
And that was more terrifying than any enemy.
—
The stronghold was alive with purpose when we emerged from his chambers. Wolves moved through the corridors with a new rhythm, their eyes sharp, their steps sure. Some nodded as we passed. Others bowed. One young enforcer—barely more than a pup—stepped aside, his hand over his heart, a silent salute.
And I—
I didn’t flinch.
Didn’t look away.
Just met his gaze and nodded back.
Because I wasn’t Blair the rogue. Blair the challenger. Blair the destroyer.
I was Blair.
Kaelen’s mate.
Theirs.
And now—
Something more.
“You’re taking it well,” Kaelen said, his hand warm on the small of my back as we walked.
“Taking what well?” I asked.
“This,” he said, gesturing to the wolves, to the stronghold, to the weight of what we’d become. “The pack. The bond. The Book. Me.”
I stopped, turning to face him. “I didn’t come here to be your mate.”
“No,” he said. “You came to destroy me.”
“And I would have,” I said, stepping into his space. “If you hadn’t been the only one who ever saw me.”
His breath caught.
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.
“So what now?” I asked.
“Now,” he said, pulling me closer, “we prepare. Because they’re coming.”
“Who?”
“The ones who still believe in the old world,” he said. “The ones who see the new law as weakness. They won’t attack the stronghold. Not yet. But they’ll test the edges. They’ll find a crack. And when they do—”
“We’ll be ready,” I said.
He didn’t smile. Just nodded. “Good.”
—
The messenger arrived at dusk.
Not from the Witch Conclave this time. Not from the fae. This one wore the black leather of a vampire sire, his scent sharp with blood and iron, his eyes shadowed beneath a hood. He was brought to the Council Chamber, where Kaelen and I stood with Riven and Elara, the Book of Bonds resting on the pedestal between us.
“He says it’s urgent,” the guard said. “A violation. In Vienna.”
My spine went rigid.
“Let him speak,” I said.
The vampire stepped forward, lowering his hood. He was young—barely more than a century, his face still holding the softness of youth, his fangs retracted. But his eyes—dark, haunted—told a different story.
“My name is Dain,” he said, voice low. “I serve under Lord Voss. He’s taken a witch. Bound her with a blood pact. She didn’t consent. He’s draining her magic to strengthen his line.”
My blood turned to ice.
“When?” I asked.
“Three days ago,” he said. “Before the law was sealed. But the pact is still active. And she’s… she’s dying.”
I looked at Kaelen.
He didn’t hesitate. “We go tonight.”
“No,” Elara said, stepping forward. “You can’t. The Council hasn’t ratified the law. If you act now, they’ll call it war. They’ll say you’re overstepping.”
“And if we do nothing,” I said, my voice low, “we’re no better than Cassian.”
Elara met my gaze. “Then go as Blair. Not as mate. Not as founder. As a woman who remembers what it’s like to be powerless.”
I nodded.
And then—
I turned to the vampire. “Take me to her.”
—
Vienna rose from the mist like a city of bones—tall, gothic spires piercing the clouds, their windows glowing with cold, unnatural light. The Vampire Senate was buried beneath the city, a labyrinth of stone and shadow, its halls lined with the preserved remains of ancient nobles, their eyes open, their mouths frozen in silent screams.
We moved in silence.
Kaelen, Riven, and I—cloaked, shadowed, our steps light. Dain led us through the tunnels, his breath fast, his fear sharp in the air. The bond hummed between Kaelen and me, not with desire, but with purpose. We weren’t here to claim. We weren’t here to fight.
We were here to free.
We found her in the inner sanctum—chained to an altar of black stone, her wrists raw, her eyes hollow. A blood sigil burned on her chest, pulsing with stolen magic. Lord Voss stood over her, a silver dagger in his hand, his voice smooth as poison.
“You’re too late,” he said, turning as we entered. “The pact is sealed. The magic is mine.”
I didn’t answer.
Just stepped forward, the Book of Bonds in my arms.
“You broke the law,” I said, my voice steady. “Before it was written. But the law doesn’t care when the crime was committed. It only cares that it was.”
He laughed. “And who are you to judge me? A half-breed witch? A rogue? You have no authority here.”
“Blair of the Bloodline,” I said. “Daughter of Elise. Heir of the Contract. And the woman who just wrote the first law.”
His smile faltered.
“No bond shall be forced,” I said, opening the Book. “No magic shall be stolen. No life shall be bound without consent.”
The runes flared.
And then—
The sigil on the witch’s chest shattered.
She screamed—not from pain, but from relief. The chains fell. The magic surged back into her, wild and bright. Lord Voss staggered back, his face pale.
“You can’t do this!” he snarled.
“I just did,” I said, stepping between him and the witch. “And if you try it again—” I met his gaze, my voice dropping to a whisper—“I’ll burn your house to ash and scatter your bones to the wind.”
He didn’t move.
Just watched as Kaelen lifted the witch into his arms, as Riven escorted Dain out, as I turned and walked away.
And as we disappeared into the tunnels—
I knew.
The law wasn’t just words.
It was a weapon.
And I was its keeper.
—
We returned to the stronghold before dawn.
The witch—her name was Selene—was resting in the infirmary, her magic slowly returning. Dain sat beside her, his hand in hers, tears on his cheeks.
Elara met us in the corridor.
“You broke protocol,” she said.
“I upheld the law,” I said.
She studied me. “And if the Senate calls for your head?”
“Then let them,” I said. “I’d rather die free than live under their silence.”
She didn’t smile. But her eyes softened.
“Then you’re ready,” she said. “Not to lead. But to be led—by your own truth.”
I didn’t answer.
Just walked to the archives.
The Book of Bonds waited on the pedestal, its cover pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat.
I placed my hand on it.
And whispered—
“I’m not afraid anymore.”
And for the first time—
I meant it.
—
That night, I dreamed again.
Not of the future.
Not of the council.
Of the past.
The Fae High Court. The same marble, the same chandeliers. But colder. Older. And in the center—
My mother.
She stood barefoot, her silver hair glowing, her hands pressed to the trunk of the Contract-tree. Her eyes were closed, her face peaceful. And then—
She spoke.
Not to me.
To the Contract.
“You were never meant to bind,” she said, her voice soft, familiar. “You were meant to protect. To shield the weak. To guard the forgotten. To be a sanctuary, not a prison.”
The tree pulsed.
And then—
It answered.
Not with words.
With light.
A pulse of silver, warm and bright, spreading through the chamber, touching every wall, every floor, every soul. And in that light—
I saw it.
The truth.
The Contract hadn’t been corrupted by Cassian.
It had been twisted.
By fear. By greed. By the need to control.
But its heart—its core—was still pure. Still good. Still ours.
And then—
The vision shifted.
Not memory.
Not past.
Future.
The Court was whole. The pack stood at the front, their eyes sharp, their loyalty unshaken. The wolves. The witches. The vampires. Even the fae—some with their masks off, their faces open, their eyes filled with something I hadn’t seen in decades: hope.
And in the center—
Kaelen and me.
Hand in hand. Marked. Claimed. Bound.
But not by force.
By choice.
And beneath us—
The tree.
Stronger now. Brighter. Its roots deeper, its branches wider. And from its trunk—
A new clause.
Etched in silver, glowing with power.
“No bond shall be forced. No magic shall be stolen. No life shall be bound without consent.”
I woke with tears on my cheeks.
Kaelen was already awake, watching me, his golden eyes burning.
“You dreamed it too,” he said.
I nodded.
“Then it’s not just a law,” he said, pulling me close. “It’s a promise.”
And as the wind howled and the stars burned above us—
I knew.
The Contract was broken.
But our bond?
That was just beginning.