The dream didn’t leave me when I woke. It clung like heat after a fire, its embers glowing beneath my skin. I could still see it—the council chamber bathed in light, the factions seated together, the tree of the Contract pulsing with life, its roots deep in truth, its branches stretching toward justice. And us. Kaelen and me. Not as conquerors. Not as avengers. But as guardians. As founders.
I turned my head, just slightly, and looked at him.
He was already awake, watching me, his golden eyes burning in the dim light of dawn. His arm was still draped over my waist, his breath steady against my neck, the bond humming between us like a second pulse. The mark on my shoulder—his bite from the Mating Moon—throbbed faintly, a quiet echo of the night we’d claimed each other not out of magic or obligation, but need. Desire. Love.
“You dreamed it again,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
I nodded, my throat tight. “The same one.”
“Not a dream,” he murmured, pulling me closer, his lips brushing the mark on my neck. “A vision. And if it’s a vision, it’s a warning.”
“That they’ll come,” I said, finishing his thought.
He didn’t deny it. Just held me tighter, his chest to my back, his presence a wall of heat and muscle. “They’ll test the law. They’ll test the Book. They’ll test you.”
I closed my eyes. “And if I fail?”
“You won’t,” he said, voice low, final. “Because you’re not doing this alone.”
But I felt alone.
Not in love. Not in bond. But in purpose.
Because last night, I hadn’t just judged a man.
I’d become something else.
Something I hadn’t asked for.
Something I wasn’t sure I could carry.
—
The stronghold was quiet when we emerged from his chambers. Not silent. Never silent. But the usual rhythm—the growls, the howls, the clatter of training weapons—was subdued. The wolves moved through the corridors with a new awareness, their eyes sharp, their steps measured. 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 dawn.
Not from the fae. Not from the vampires. Not from the witches.
From the Blood Market.
She was young—barely more than a girl—with dark eyes and a scar across her cheek. Her scent was sharp with fear and iron, her hands trembling as she was escorted into the Council Chamber. Riven and Elara stood at my side, the Book of Bonds resting on the pedestal between us, its cover pulsing faintly, like a heartbeat.
“She says it’s urgent,” the guard said. “A violation. In Prague.”
My spine went rigid.
“Let her speak,” I said.
The girl stepped forward, lowering her hood. “My name is Lira,” she said, voice shaking. “I was taken from the Eastern Coven. Sold to the Blood Market. They drained my magic. Forced me to fight. To serve.” Her eyes locked onto mine. “But I escaped. And I saw something—something they’re hiding.”
“What?” I asked, my voice low.
“A ritual,” she said. “They’re binding hybrids. Not just one. Dozens. Using stolen blood from the Book’s lineage. They’re trying to break the First Law. To create their own contract.”
My blood turned to ice.
“When?”
“Tonight,” she said. “Under the new moon. In the old cathedral beneath the city.”
I looked at Kaelen.
He didn’t hesitate. “We go now.”
“No,” Elara said, stepping forward. “You can’t. The Book is still unstable. The bond is still new. If you act now, they’ll say you’re abusing your power.”
“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 girl. “Take me to it.”
—
Prague rose from the mist like a city of secrets—narrow cobblestone streets winding between ancient stone buildings, their spires piercing the clouds, their windows glowing with cold, unnatural light. The air smelled of damp earth and old magic, of something rotting beneath the surface. The cathedral was buried beneath the city, a labyrinth of stone and shadow, its halls lined with the preserved remains of forgotten saints, their eyes open, their mouths frozen in silent screams.
We moved in silence.
Kaelen, Riven, and I—cloaked, shadowed, our steps light. Lira led us through the tunnels, her breath fast, her 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 stop.
We found them in the inner sanctum—dozens of hybrids, chained to the stone, their wrists raw, their eyes hollow. A blood sigil burned on the floor, pulsing with stolen magic. At its center stood a man—robed in black, his face hidden beneath a hood, his voice smooth as poison.
“You’re too late,” he said, turning as we entered. “The ritual is complete. The new contract is born.”
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 floor shattered.
The hybrids screamed—not from pain, but from relief. The chains fell. The magic surged back into them, wild and bright. The man staggered back, his face pale.
“You can’t do this!” he snarled.
“I just did,” I said, stepping between him and the freed hybrids. “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 one of the hybrids into his arms, as Riven escorted Lira 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 hybrids—twelve of them—were resting in the infirmary, their magic slowly returning. Lira sat beside them, her hand in theirs, tears on her cheeks.
Elara met us in the corridor.
“You broke protocol,” she said.
“I upheld the law,” I said.
She studied me. “And if the Blood Market 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.