The air in the Moonveil Court still hummed with Fae magic—sweet, cloying, deceptive—long after Prince Orin had bowed and retreated into the silver spire. His words echoed in my skull like a curse: *“You’ll have to choose. Revenge. Or him.”* As if it were that simple. As if my mother’s blood, my family’s name, the life I’d clawed from the slums of the Veil Market could be traded for a man who’d let me hate him to keep me safe.
But he had kept me safe.
And worse—he’d trusted me.
He hadn’t stopped me from kissing Orin. Hadn’t pulled me away when the Fae prince’s lips crushed mine, when his glamour slithered into my mouth, when the truth ripped from him like a scream. He’d just stood there, his jaw tight, his crimson eyes burning, his hand clenched at his side, as if he knew—knew I’d do it, knew I’d risk everything, knew I’d rather face a century of servitude than let him die.
And now—
Now I knew the Codex wasn’t here.
It was “in the heart of the enemy.”
Where no one would dare look.
Where the blood oath was strongest.
My fingers brushed the mating mark on my neck—still warm, still pulsing, still his—as I followed Kaelen down the moonstone path, back toward the carriage. The bond hummed beneath my skin, steady, insistent, like it knew something I didn’t. Like it had already made the choice for me.
“You shouldn’t have done that,” Kaelen said, his voice low, rough, not turning to look at me.
“You didn’t stop me,” I said, matching his stride. “So don’t pretend you care.”
He stopped.
Turned.
His eyes—crimson, glowing—locked onto mine. “I care that you’d risk a century of servitude for a clue. That you’d let another man’s lips touch yours for a rumor. That you’d—” his voice cracked—“that you’d bleed for me again.”
My chest tightened.
“I didn’t do it for a clue,” I said, stepping closer. “I did it because I needed to know. Because every second I waste, Malrik grows stronger. Because my mother—” my voice broke—“deserves justice.”
“And what if the price is you?” he asked, his hand lifting to my cheek, his thumb brushing the edge of my lip. A jolt of heat tore through me. “What if the price is your freedom? Your magic? Your life?”
“Then it’s a price I’ll pay,” I said, my voice steady. “Just like you’d pay it for me.”
He didn’t flinch.
Just watched me, his eyes searching mine, like he was trying to memorize the shape of my defiance, the color of my rage, the way my storm-amber eyes darkened when I lied.
And then—
He kissed me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Hard. Possessive. A claim.
His mouth crashed against mine, his tongue sliding against mine, his hands gripping my arms. The bond roared, a surge of heat and magic and need that ripped through me, wave after wave. My body arched into his, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My wolf stilled, not in submission, but in recognition.
This was right.
This was truth.
His scent—dark amber and old blood—filled my lungs. His heat seared my skin. His body—hard, strong, mine—pressed against me like he’d never let go.
And I—
I melted.
My lips parted, my tongue tangling with his, my hips grinding against his. A moan slipped from my throat, raw and desperate. My fingers twitched in his grip, aching to touch him, to pull him closer, to claim him back.
“Kaelen,” I gasped, breaking the kiss. “I—”
“Shh,” he murmured, his lips brushing my neck. “Let it in. Let me in.”
His fangs grazed my skin, just above my pulse. A shiver tore through me. My core clenched. My breath came fast.
He was going to bite me.
Not a warning. Not a taste.
A claiming.
And I—
I wanted it.
Not because of the bond.
Not because of magic.
But because it was him.
Because I was tired of fighting.
Tired of hating.
Tired of pretending I didn’t want this.
My body arched, offering my neck. My breath came in short, desperate gasps. My heart pounded.
“Do it,” I whispered. “Claim me.”
His fangs pressed into my skin—
And then—
He pulled back.
“No,” he said, his voice rough. “Not here. Not like this. I want you 清醒. I want you aware. I want you to choose me.”
My breath hitched.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I whispered. “You don’t get to decide us.”
“The bond did,” he said, his hands sliding to my waist, pulling me closer. “And so did the Council. And so did you—every time you stayed. Every time you let me touch you. Every time you didn’t run.”
“I didn’t have a choice,” I said, my voice trembling. “The bond—”
“The bond gives you an excuse,” he said, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “But you could have fought harder. You could have let the fever take you. But you didn’t.”
My chest tightened.
“And what if I had?” I snapped. “What if I’d let it break me? Would you have left me? Would you have let me die?”
He didn’t hesitate.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because,” he said, his voice rough, “you’re the only one who makes me feel alive.”
My breath caught.
And for the first time—
I saw it.
Not hatred.
Not fear.
But doubt.
He stepped back.
“Don’t say things like that,” I whispered. “Don’t use my own weakness against me.”
“I’m not,” he said. “I’m telling you the truth. Something you’ve never heard from me before.”
He turned, walking toward the carriage.
I let him go.
But not far.
Because I knew—
He was unraveling.
And soon, he’d fall.
And when he did—
I’d be there to catch him.
––––––
The carriage ride back to Blackthorn Keep was silent again.
Not the thick, heavy silence of before—no, this was different. Lighter. Charged. Like the air before a storm. My skin still burned from his kiss, from his touch, from the way his fangs had grazed my neck. The mating mark pulsed, warm and insistent, a silver scar now, glowing faintly with every beat of my heart.
And beneath it—
The truth.
The Codex wasn’t in the Moonveil Court.
It was in the heart of the enemy.
Where no one would dare look.
Where the blood oath was strongest.
My fingers traced the crescent moon on my palm—the sigil from the map, the one that had led me to believe Malrik had it. But it was a lie. A trap. Just like Orin had said.
And if it wasn’t Malrik—
Then who?
Who had the power to steal a witch’s grimoire, to hide it where the Fae couldn’t reach, to bind it with a blood oath so strong not even I could break it?
Only one person.
Kaelen.
My breath caught.
No.
He’d protected it. Hid it. Let me hate him to keep me safe.
But what if Mother was right?
What if the greatest betrayal wasn’t in the theft—
But in the silence?
“We’re here,” Silas said, opening the carriage door.
I stepped out, the cool night air hitting my skin like a slap. Blackthorn Keep loomed before us—obsidian towers, shadowed courtyards, the Blood Moon staining the sky crimson. The air was thick with magic, with tension.
And then—
A scream.
Not human. Not vampire.
Witch.
My blood ran cold.
“That’s from the library,” Kaelen said, already moving.
I followed, my dagger in hand, my wolf pacing beneath my ribs. We burst into the east wing library—the same chamber where I’d found the map, where Lira had worn his shirt, where I’d slapped him and nearly kissed him before the assassins came.
And there—
A woman.
Bound to the floor with silver chains, her wrists bleeding, her mouth gagged. Her eyes—storm-amber, just like mine—locked onto me.
“Mother?” I whispered, stepping forward.
But it wasn’t her.
It was a projection. A spell. A memory.
And then—
She spoke.
Not with her voice.
With mine.
“Break the oath,” the projection said, her lips moving in sync with my thoughts. “Find the truth. Restore our name.”
My breath stilled.
It was a bloodline spell—one only a Vale witch could cast. One that required a drop of blood, a whisper of intent, and a memory strong enough to bleed.
And I knew who had cast it.
Lira.
She’d lured me here. Set a trap. Used my own magic against me.
“It’s a trick,” Kaelen said, stepping beside me. “She’s trying to manipulate you.”
“I know,” I said, my voice tight. “But she used my blood. My magic. My memory.”
“Then break it,” he said. “Show her you’re stronger.”
I stepped forward, my dagger in hand. The projection flinched, but didn’t speak. Just watched me, her storm-amber eyes wide, her lips parted.
“You’re not her,” I said, pressing the blade to my palm. Blood welled, dark and thick. “You’re just a shadow. A lie. And I’m not afraid of lies.”
I slashed the air, drawing a sigil in my blood—a crescent moon wrapped in thorns, the symbol of the Vale family. The air shimmered, the projection flickering, her form distorting.
“Break the oath,” she whispered, her voice fading.
“No,” I said, my voice steady. “I break you.”
I slashed again, completing the sigil. The projection screamed, her form tearing apart like paper in the wind. The silver chains dissolved. The blood on the floor evaporated.
Silence fell.
And then—
Laughter.
Soft. Cruel. Familiar.
Lira stepped from the shadows, her silver gown shimmering, her frost-blue eyes gleaming. “Impressive,” she said, clapping slowly. “You’ve learned a few tricks.”
“You used my blood,” I said, stepping forward, my dagger raised. “You used my mother’s memory. You think that makes you strong?”
“I think it makes me clever,” she said, smiling. “And I think you’re desperate. Running from truths. Chasing ghosts. And all the while—” her gaze flicked to Kaelen—“he watches. He breathes. He lives.”
“He’s not the enemy,” I said, my voice sharp.
“Isn’t he?” she asked, stepping closer. “He took the Codex. He let you believe he was the thief. He let you hate him. And now—” her smile widened—“he lets you love him.”
My chest tightened.
“I don’t love him,” I said, my voice trembling.
She laughed. “Liar.”
And then—
She moved.
Fast. Fae-fast. A blur of silver and frost. Her hand shot out, gripping my wrist, her nails digging into my skin. Pain flared, sharp and bright.
But not from her touch.
From the bond.
It screamed, a jagged pulse of pain and need and betrayal. My wolf howled, not in anger, but in grief. I’d let myself believe in him. Let myself want him. Let myself think that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the monster I’d come to destroy.
And now—
Now I was a fool.
“He’s using you,” Lira hissed, her breath reeking of frost. “He’s always been using you. The bond? The mark? The way he touches you? It’s all a game. A performance.”
“No,” I said, my voice breaking. “He saved me. He carried me. He kissed me. He claimed me.”
“And yet,” she said, her grip tightening, “he still won’t tell you where the Codex is. He still won’t admit what he’s done. He still won’t—”
And then—
Kaelen was there.
My breath caught.
He moved like death given form—fast, silent, lethal. One hand clamped around Lira’s throat, the other driving a dagger into her heart. She gasped, her eyes wide, her frost-blue irises fading to gray.
And then—
Dust.
It scattered in the wind.
Silence fell.
And then—
He turned.
His eyes—crimson, glowing—locked onto mine.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, my voice raw.
“She was hurting you,” he said, stepping closer. “And I don’t let anyone hurt what’s mine.”
My breath hitched.
“And what if I’m not yours?” I asked, stepping back. “What if I’m just another pawn in your game? Another piece on your board?”
He didn’t flinch.
Just watched me, his eyes burning. “You’ve never been a pawn. You’ve always been the queen.”
“Then why won’t you tell me where the Codex is?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Why won’t you admit what you’ve done?”
He didn’t answer.
Just stepped closer, his hand lifting to my cheek, his thumb brushing the edge of my lip. A jolt of heat tore through me.
“Because,” he said, his voice rough, “if I tell you, you’ll have to choose. And I don’t know if you’re ready.”
My chest tightened.
“Then make me ready,” I said, stepping into him, my hands gripping his shirt. “Break the oath. Show me the truth. Let me see you.”
He didn’t move.
Just watched me, his eyes searching mine.
And then—
He nodded.
“Follow me,” he said, turning toward the door.
And I did.
Because I wasn’t just here to burn him.
I was here to burn with him.
And for the first time—
I didn’t want to survive the fire.
I wanted to live in it.