The spring was silent after she left.
No more mocking whispers. No more poisoned smiles. No more blood-and-roses scent clinging to the air like a curse. Just the soft trickle of water over stone, the low hum of the Blood Moon above, and the quiet, steady rhythm of Misty’s breath against my chest.
She was in my arms.
Not by magic. Not by force. Not even by the bond, though it pulsed between us, hot and insistent, a live wire beneath my ribs. She was here because she *chose* to be. Because when I reached for her, she didn’t pull away. Because when I pulled her close, she didn’t fight.
She *leaned in*.
Her body was warm from the spring, her skin slick with water and steam, her hair clinging to her neck in dark, tangled strands. Her storm-gray eyes were closed, her lashes damp, her lips slightly parted. She trembled—not from cold, not from fear—but from something deeper. Something I recognized.
Need.
And I felt it too.
Not just the bond fever, though that burned beneath my skin like a slow fire. Not just the proximity, though every inch of me screamed to touch her, to taste her, to claim her. But something worse. Something I hadn’t felt in centuries.
Hope.
It was dangerous. It was weak. It was the kind of vulnerability that got Alphas killed.
And yet—
I couldn’t let her go.
“You’re quiet,” she murmured, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.
“You’re shivering.”
“I’m not cold.”
“You are.” I tightened my arms around her, pulling her closer, my heat seeping into her skin. “Your skin’s like ice.”
She didn’t argue. Just pressed herself against me, her cheek resting over my heart, her breath warm against my collarbone. “It’s not the water. It’s her. The way she looked at you. The way she said your name.”
My jaw tightened. “I haven’t touched her in months. I haven’t wanted her. I haven’t *thought* about her.”
“But she’s still a part of your past.”
“So are scars. Doesn’t mean I want them back.” I tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze. “You’re the only one I see, Misty. The only one I want. The only one who’s ever made my wolf still just by walking into a room.”
Her breath caught.
Not from the bond. Not from the magic.
From *me*.
And that—that was more dangerous than any trial, any enemy, any lie.
Because if she believed me…
Then I’d have to believe myself.
“You don’t have to say that,” she whispered.
“I don’t.” I brushed my thumb across her lower lip, watching her pupils dilate, her breath hitch. “I say it because it’s true.”
The bond flared—just a pulse, but enough to make her gasp. Her skin warmed. Her pulse jumped. I could feel her more clearly now—the heat of her body, the rhythm of her breath, the way her core clenched when my hand slid down her back, slow, deliberate, *intimate*.
“You feel it,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear. “The way the magic responds to us. The way it *knows*.”
“It’s not real,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s the fever. The proximity. It’s not *me*.”
“Isn’t it?” I nuzzled her neck, my lips grazing her skin. “Or is it just the truth the bond won’t let us hide from?”
She didn’t answer.
But I felt it—the flicker in her pulse, the way her fingers tightened on my shoulders, the way her body arched into my touch.
And then—
The vision came.
Not a flash this time.
A *memory*.
Her beneath me, legs wrapped around my waist, her back arched, her mouth open on a cry as I thrust deep, magic spiraling around us, the Blood Moon blazing above. My fangs grazing her throat. Her nails raking down my back. And then—my fangs sinking in, claiming her, as she came with a scream, her body clenching around me, her magic and mine merging into one.
It wasn’t just desire.
It was *completion*.
I gasped, my body arching, my cock hardening, aching, straining against the water. My breath came in short, ragged gasps. My vision blurred.
And Misty—
She felt it too.
Her breath hitched. Her arms tightened around me. Her thighs clenched together, her core wet, *needy*.
“You see it,” I murmured, voice rough, strained. “You see what we are.”
“It’s not real,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “It’s magic. Illusion.”
“Isn’t it?” I shifted, rolling her onto her back, my body caging her in, my hands braced on either side of her head. The water lapped around us, steam rising in slow, intoxicating waves. My amber eyes burned into hers, fierce, possessive, *hungry*. “You know exactly what it is. Elara told you. You’re a Blood Moon Heir. The ritual didn’t just bind you to me.”
“It awakened me,” she whispered.
“And you can break it.”
“Or control it.”
I didn’t move. Just stared at her, my chest rising and falling fast. “Then do it.”
“What?”
“Break it.” My voice was rough, raw. “If you can. If you *want* to. Prove you’re not mine. Prove you never were.”
Her heart pounded.
This was her chance.
Her power.
Her freedom.
But as she looked into my eyes—into the fear, the hunger, the *need*—I realized something.
She didn’t *want* to break it.
Not yet.
Not until she had the truth.
Not until Veylan was exposed.
Not until her sister’s name was cleared.
And not until she knew—*really knew*—if the man above her was a monster…
Or the only one who’d ever seen her.
“I won’t,” she said, voice steady. “Not yet.”
My jaw tightened. “Then you’re mine.”
“No,” she said, lifting her hand, pressing her palm to my chest, right over my heart. “I’m *yours*—but only because I choose to be.”
I didn’t answer.
Just lowered my head—slow, deliberate—until my lips were a breath from hers.
And then—
Thunder cracked, shaking the spire.
The torches flared crimson.
And the bond *screamed*.
We stayed in the spring until the Blood Moon began to fade, until the steam thinned, until the water cooled against our skin. Misty didn’t speak. Just rested in my arms, her body pliant, her breath even, her fingers tracing idle patterns on my chest. The bond hummed between us, low and steady, but it wasn’t just the magic that told me she was close.
It was the way she didn’t pull away.
It was the way she sighed when I brushed a strand of hair from her face.
It was the way she leaned into my touch when I ran my fingers down her spine.
And then—
She shivered.
Not from the bond.
From the cold.
“You’re chilled,” I said, my voice low.
“I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” I stood, water sluicing off my body, and reached for her. “Come on.”
She hesitated. “I can walk.”
“I know.” I stepped closer, my hands closing around her waist. “But you won’t.”
And I lifted her.
Not roughly. Not possessively.
Gently. Reverently.
Her legs wrapped around my waist, her arms around my neck, her body pressing into mine, heat meeting heat, skin slick with water and steam. I could feel her—every curve, every breath, every heartbeat—like she was part of me. And maybe she was.
Maybe the bond wasn’t a curse.
Maybe it was a gift.
I carried her from the spring, through the lower gardens, back into the Fae High Court. The corridors were empty, the torches burning low, the sigils pulsing faintly in the dim light. The air was colder here, the scent of old magic thick in my lungs. But I didn’t feel it.
All I felt was her.
Her weight in my arms. Her breath at my neck. Her scent—storm and witch and *her*—rising from her skin like a prayer.
And then—
The bond flared.
Not with fire. Not with vision.
With *heat*.
White-hot, sudden, *uncontrollable*.
My skin burned where she touched me. My breath caught. My cock hardened, aching, straining against the water still clinging to my body. My vision blurred. My wolf prowled beneath my skin, restless, hungry, *needing*.
And Misty—
She felt it too.
Her breath hitched. Her arms tightened around me. Her thighs clenched around my waist, her core wet, *needy*.
“Kaelen,” she whispered, her voice breaking.
“I know.” I didn’t stop walking. Didn’t falter. Just held her tighter, my voice rough, strained. “I feel it too.”
“It’s the proximity,” she said, her voice tight. “The bond. It’s not *me*.”
“Isn’t it?” I nuzzled her neck, my lips brushing her skin. “Or is it just the truth the bond won’t let us hide from?”
She didn’t answer.
But I felt it—the flicker in her pulse, the way her body arched into my touch, the way her breath came in short, ragged gasps.
And then—
We reached the West Spire.
I carried her inside, kicking the door shut behind us, and laid her on the bed, the sheets still warm from where we’d slept. She didn’t move. Just stared up at me, her storm-gray eyes wide, her lips slightly parted, her chest rising and falling fast.
And I—
I didn’t leave.
Just knelt beside her, my hand brushing her cheek, my thumb tracing her lower lip. “You’re trembling,” I murmured.
“Is it fear… or want?”
She didn’t answer.
But I saw it—the same hunger, the same ache, the same *want*.
And for the first time since this nightmare began…
I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it.
“I should go,” I said, voice rough.
“Don’t.”
Two words.
That was all it took.
I didn’t argue. Didn’t hesitate. Just climbed onto the bed, lying beside her, my body spooned against hers, my heat seeping into her skin, my breath warm at her neck. My arm slid around her waist, pulling her back against my chest, my cock pressing into the curve of her ass, thick, hard, *wanting*.
And she—
She didn’t pull away.
Just pressed herself closer, her body fitting into mine like it had always belonged there.
“You’re not leaving,” I murmured, my lips brushing her ear.
“No,” she whispered. “I’m not.”
The bond hummed between us, low and steady, but it wasn’t just the magic that told me she was close.
It was the way she sighed when I ran my fingers through her hair.
It was the way she leaned into my touch when I brushed my thumb across her hip.
It was the way she whispered my name—soft, broken, *real*—as she fell asleep in my arms.
I didn’t sleep.
Just watched her.
Her face relaxed in sleep, her lashes fanned across her cheeks, her lips slightly parted. The firelight painted gold across her skin, catching the silver locket at her throat, the one that held her sister’s ashes. And I—
I felt it.
Not just the bond.
Not just the magic.
But something worse.
Something I hadn’t felt in centuries.
Love.
And it terrified me more than any enemy, any trial, any lie.
Because if I loved her…
Then I’d do anything to keep her.
Even if it meant burning the world down.
Outside, the storm raged.
Inside, the fire burned.
And for the first time since this nightmare began…
I wasn’t alone.
And I never wanted to be again.