The curse is loose.
Not just in me. Not just around me.
It’s *alive*.
It pulses beneath my skin like a second heartbeat, erratic, hungry, a serpent uncoiled after decades of dormancy. The mark on my spine burns—no longer a hidden sigil, but a raw wound, a breach in my magic, my blood, my very soul. I can feel it. Not just in my bones. Not just in my breath.
In my mind.
Whispers. Fragments. A voice—Veyth’s—echoing through the dark: *“The Oath is not broken. It has only just begun.”* And beneath it, something deeper. Older. A hum, like blood singing in a forgotten vein. The curse isn’t just awake.
It’s hungry.
I press a hand to the small of my back as Kaelen carries me through the fortress, his arms locked around me, his fangs still bared, his crimson eyes scanning the shadows. My legs are wrapped around his waist, my fingers curled into his coat, my body trembling—not from fear, not from pain, but from the sheer, terrifying power surging through me. I can’t control it. I don’t know it. And if I don’t learn fast—
It will destroy everything.
Riven follows behind us, silent, his storm-gray eyes sharp, his hand never far from his dagger. The corridor stretches ahead, torchlight flickering on black stone, the air thick with the scent of old blood and fear. We’re moving fast—too fast for my thoughts to catch up. One moment, I was standing in the cell, watching Lyria press her palm to the sigil on my spine. The next—
Fire.
Darkness.
And the bond—shattering.
Not cleanly. Not completely.
Like a thread snapping, but the ends still tangled, still pulsing, still connected. I can still feel Kaelen—his heartbeat, his breath, his presence—but it’s fractured. Distant. Like a voice through water. And the bond-fever—
It’s back.
Worse than before.
My head throbs. My vision swims. My skin prickles with cold sweat, even as my core burns with unnatural heat. The curse is feeding on the rupture, on the chaos, on the raw magic flooding my veins. And if I don’t stabilize it—
I’ll burn from the inside out.
Kaelen doesn’t slow. Doesn’t speak. Just carries me like I weigh nothing, his grip iron, his steps sure. I want to tell him to stop. To let me walk. To give me space to breathe. But I can’t. The moment I try to shift, the fever spikes—sharp, violent—and I gasp, my body arching into his, my fingers tightening in his coat.
“Don’t fight it,” he growls, his voice low, rough. “Not yet.”
“I’m not weak,” I whisper, my voice raw.
“No.” He glances down, his eyes burning into mine. “You’re not. But you’re not in control. And right now, that’s going to get you killed.”
I glare at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do.” He turns a corner, his coat billowing like a shroud. “Because I’m not losing you. Not to Veyth. Not to the curse. Not to yourself.”
My breath hitches.
Because he’s right.
I’m losing myself.
The woman who came here to kill him—the avenger, the weapon, the daughter of vengeance—she’s gone. In her place is someone else. Someone who kissed him back. Who touched him. Who claimed him.
And now—
She’s breaking.
We reach his chambers—our chambers, now, by law and by bond—and he kicks the door open, striding inside. The fire in the hearth crackles, casting long shadows across the obsidian walls. The crimson crystals in the ceiling pulse faintly, their rhythm slow, deliberate. He carries me to the bed, laying me down gently, his hands lingering on my hips, his gaze intense.
“Stay,” he says.
“I’m not a dog,” I snap.
“No.” He crouches beside me, his hand brushing my cheek. “You’re the most dangerous woman in this court. And you’re mine.”
My breath catches.
“Don’t,” I whisper. “Not now. Not like this.”
“Like what?” He leans in, his lips brushing my ear. “Like I mean it?”
I turn my head, my eyes locking onto his. “Like I’m not falling apart.”
He doesn’t flinch. Just cups my face, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “You’re not falling apart. You’re awakening. And I’m not letting go.”
Tears burn behind my eyes. I don’t let them fall.
Riven steps forward, his voice low. “The wards are failing. The bond rupture is destabilizing the fortress’s magic. And the heat cycle is rising.”
Kaelen’s jaw tightens. “Which Alpha?”
“Varek.” Riven’s voice is grim. “He’s already shifting. The pheromones are spreading.”
My stomach twists. Varek—the rogue Alpha of the Northern Pack. Brutal. Unpredictable. Known for hunting strays during heat, feeding on their fear, their submission. And now, with the wards weakened, with the bond fractured, with the curse loose—
He’ll come for me.
“I can suppress it,” Riven says, glancing at me. “But not if he’s already in the city.”
“Then we find him,” Kaelen says, standing. “Before he finds her.”
“You can’t leave her,” Riven says. “Not now. Not with the bond like this.”
“I’m not leaving her.” Kaelen turns to me. “You’re coming with us.”
“I’m not helpless,” I snap.
“No.” He steps closer, his hand finding mine. “You’re the key to the curse. And if Varek gets to you before we do, he’ll use you to break the Council.”
My breath hitches. “And if I fight back?”
“Then you’ll burn out.” He leans down, his lips brushing mine—just once, soft, teasing. “And I’m not losing you.”
I glare at him. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do.” He pulls me to my feet, his arm wrapping around my waist. “Now move.”
We descend into the city—Vienna reborn, a labyrinth of gothic spires and enchanted alleys, where fae markets pulse beneath the Danube and blood bars hum with forbidden desire. The streets are alive with tension—witch covens huddled in doorways, vampires moving like shadows, humans scurrying like rats. The air is thick with the scent of magic, of fear, of something darker.
Heat.
It rolls off the stone, thick and cloying, a pheromonal fog that clings to the back of my throat. My skin prickles. My pulse spikes. My body aches—low, deep, wrong. The curse is reacting. Feeding on it. And if I don’t get out of here—
It will consume me.
Kaelen’s hand tightens on mine. “Stay close.”
“I’m not a child,” I mutter.
“No.” He glances at me, his eyes burning crimson. “But you’re not in control. And right now, that’s going to get you killed.”
I don’t argue.
Because he’s right.
We turn into the Garden of Whispers—a hidden enclave behind the High Court, where moonlight filters through silver leaves and the air hums with ancient magic. It’s quiet. Too quiet. The fountain in the center is still, the water black, unmoving. The flowers—night-blooming lilies, their petals edged in crimson—hang limp, their scent gone.
And then—
A growl.
Low. Feral. Close.
Kaelen stops, pulling me behind him, his fangs lengthening, his body a wall of heat and power. Riven shifts—bones cracking, muscles twisting—and in seconds, he’s on all fours, his wolf form sleek and powerful, his ears flat, his hackles raised.
And then—
He emerges.
Varek.
Taller than Riven. Broader. His fur black as shadow, his eyes glowing gold, his fangs bared. He moves slow, deliberate, his claws scraping the stone, his breath fogging in the cold air. His gaze locks onto me—past Kaelen, past Riven—into me.
And I feel it.
The pull.
Not just the heat. Not just the pheromones.
The curse.
It stirs—awake, hungry, answering. My breath hitches. My body arches. My fingers claw at Kaelen’s coat, my pulse racing, my blood singing.
“Don’t,” he growls, without turning. “Not yet.”
“He’s not here for you,” I whisper. “He’s here for me.”
“I know.”
Varek stops, crouching low, his tail twitching. And then—
He speaks.
Not in words. In growls. In snarls. In the language of the pack.
Riven answers—low, controlled, a warning.
Varek ignores him. His gaze never leaves mine.
And then—
He lunges.
Fast. Brutal. Inhuman.
Kaelen moves first—fast, feral, a blur of shadow and fang. They collide in midair, a whirlwind of fur and fang, a snarling, snapping mass of violence. Riven joins the fray, his claws raking Varek’s flank, his teeth sinking into his shoulder. But Varek is strong. Bigger. Wilder. He throws Kaelen off, sending him crashing into the fountain, the stone cracking beneath his weight.
And then—
He turns to me.
I don’t run.
Can’t.
The curse is too strong. The heat too thick. My legs tremble. My breath comes in shallow gasps. My body aches—low, deep, needing.
And then—
He’s on me.
Not attacking.
Not biting.
Pressing.
His massive head nuzzles my neck, his breath hot, his scent overwhelming—musk, iron, wild earth. His paw rests on my thigh, heavy, possessive. And then—
He licks me.
One long, slow stroke from collarbone to jaw.
My breath hitches. My body arches. My magic flares—violent, uncontrolled—and I cry out as the curse surges, syncing with his heat, with his scent, with his claim.
And then—
Kaelen is there.
He tears Varek off me, a snarling, feral thing, his fangs buried in the Alpha’s throat. They crash to the ground, a whirlwind of violence, blood spraying the silver leaves, the fountain running red.
And then—
Varek breaks free.
He snarls, one last, defiant growl, and then he’s gone—vanishing into the shadows, the garden silent once more.
Kaelen stands over me, his chest heaving, his coat torn, his face streaked with blood. He offers me a hand.
I take it.
He pulls me to my feet, his arm wrapping around my waist, his body a furnace at my back. “You’re not his,” he growls into my ear. “You’re mine.”
My breath hitches. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do.” He turns me, forcing me to meet his gaze. “Because no one touches what’s mine.”
And then—
He kisses me.
Not soft. Not gentle.
Desperate.
Hard.
Claiming.
His mouth crashes onto mine, his hands gripping my waist, pulling me against him as if he can fuse us together, as if he can make me feel what he feels, as if he can erase every doubt, every fear, every lie.
And I—
I take it.
My hands claw at his jacket, my body arching into his, my breath coming in ragged gasps between our mouths. The curse flares—hot, electric, erotic—and I groan, deep in my chest, as the bond syncs our hearts, our breaths, our very souls.
He pulls back—just slightly—his lips swollen, his eyes burning crimson. “You’re not his,” he growls. “You’re mine.”
“I’m not anyone’s,” I whisper.
“No.” He leans down, his lips brushing my neck. “But you’re with me. And I’m not letting go.”
And then—
A scream tears through the fortress.
Sharp. Desperate. Human.
We both freeze.
The bond hums—low, insistent—but it’s different now. Not just magic. Not just desire.
Warning.
Kaelen pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me, his heartbeat steady against my ear. “We have to go,” he says. “Now.”
I nod, my fingers curling into his coat. “Then let’s end this.”
“Together,” he says, gripping my hand.
And as we run through the corridors, the fortress trembling with unseen threat, the curse pulsing between us like a second heartbeat—
I know one thing for certain.
He’s not the monster I thought he was.
He’s the only one who can set me free.
And I’m not letting him go.