The crystal’s glow fades, but the heat between us doesn’t. It lingers—low in my belly, tight across my skin—like the bond is still pulsing, whispering, closer, closer. I force myself to step back, to break the line of sight with Kaelen, but my body resists. Every nerve feels raw, oversensitive, as if the air itself has been charged with something ancient and hungry.
“You will remain within twenty feet,” the guard repeats, his voice flat, emotionless. “The next scan is at dawn. Do not test the bond. It will punish you.”
“Punish how?” I ask, sharp, defiant.
The guard’s gaze flicks to Kaelen, then back to me. “Separation for more than an hour induces fever. More than four—hallucinations. Beyond twenty-four hours…” He pauses. “The bond kills. Slowly.”
My stomach drops. That wasn’t in the intelligence Lira gave me. This isn’t just a trial. It’s a leash. A death sentence if I try to run.
Kaelen watches me, unreadable. But there’s a flicker in his eyes—something like regret? No. Impossible. He’s a vampire lord. Regret is a human weakness.
The guards leave. The door seals shut with a soft click, and suddenly, we’re alone again. The fire crackles. The tapestries shift in a draft I can’t feel. And the silence—thick, suffocating—presses in.
I turn to the smaller bedroom. “I’ll be in there.”
“No,” he says.
I freeze. “Excuse me?”
He pushes off the mantle, smooth, controlled. “The scan requires proximity. If you’re in another room, the bond will react. You’ll burn.”
“Then I’ll suffer it.”
“And fail the trial,” he counters. “Which means execution. Is that your plan? To die before you even begin your mission?”
My breath catches. He knows. He knows I’m here for the Blood Oath.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
He steps closer. “You’re Cora Vale. Half-witch, half-fae. Daughter of Elira Vale—the woman I couldn’t save.”
My pulse hammers. “You’re guessing.”
“I’ve known since the moment you walked in.” His voice drops. “Your scent. Your eyes. The way you look at me—like you want to rip my heart out with your bare hands.”
I don’t deny it.
“So why haven’t you?” he asks. “If you hate me so much, why not attack? Why play this game?”
“Because I’m smarter than you think.”
“Or weaker.”
I lunge at him.
It’s stupid. Reckless. But I can’t stop myself. My hand closes around the silver clasp at his throat, and for a heartbeat, I imagine driving it into his chest. But he’s faster. Stronger. His hand snaps up, catching my wrist, twisting just enough to make me gasp. Not enough to break. Just enough to remind me who’s in control.
“Careful,” he murmurs. “I could kill you with one breath.”
“Then do it.” I glare up at him. “End it now. Save us both the trouble.”
His crimson eyes search mine. And then—impossibly—he lets go.
“No,” he says. “I want to see what you’ll do. I want to watch you try to destroy me while this bond pulls you toward me with every step.”
I rub my wrist, glaring. “You’re enjoying this.”
“Not enjoying,” he corrects. “Fascinated.”
He turns, walks to the larger bedroom. “We’ll sleep in here. The bond will tolerate it—if we’re close enough.”
“I’m not sleeping in the same room as you.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
I want to argue. I want to scream. But the truth is, he’s right. The bond is already humming beneath my skin, a low, insistent ache. If I push it, it’ll retaliate. And I can’t afford to be weak. Not now. Not when I’m so close.
Reluctantly, I follow him into the bedroom.
It’s darker in here. The firelight barely reaches. Black silk sheets. A low, wide bed. A locked chest at the foot, carved with runes I can’t read. And on the nightstand—
My breath stops.
A locket. Silver. Oval. The one my mother wore the night she died.
I cross the room in three strides, snatch it up. It’s warm. Charged. I flip it open—empty, but the hinges creak like they’ve been used recently.
“You kept this?” I whirl on him. “You kept her locket?”
He doesn’t deny it. “I took it from the altar. After they dragged her away.”
“Why?”
“Because it was all I could save.”
I stare at him. The locket trembles in my hand. This man—this monster—kept a piece of her. Not as a trophy. As a relic. A memory.
And for the first time, doubt flickers. Not about my mission. But about him.
“Put it back,” he says quietly. “It’s not yours yet.”
“It was hers.”
“And now it’s part of the trial. If the bond is real, it will accept you as mine. Then you can have it.”
I want to throw it at him. I want to crush it. But I don’t. I close it gently, place it back on the nightstand.
Then I turn, strip off my coat, drape it over a chair. I won’t undress. I won’t give him the satisfaction. I sit on the edge of the bed, back straight, hands in my lap.
“You can have the other side,” I say coldly.
He doesn’t move. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m fine.”
“The bond is reacting. You’re too far.”
“Then move closer.”
He does. Slowly. Deliberately. He sits beside me, close enough that our thighs almost touch. The heat between us spikes. My skin prickles. My breath comes faster.
“This is torture,” I whisper.
“For both of us,” he says.
I don’t look at him. I stare at the wall. But I feel him—the weight of his presence, the unnatural warmth of his body, the way his breath doesn’t stir the air, yet I can feel it, like a phantom touch on my neck.
Minutes pass. The fire pops. The bond hums. And then—
A sound.
Soft. Metallic. From the corridor.
I stiffen. “Did you hear that?”
Kaelen is already on his feet. “Stay here.”
“Like hell.” I follow him to the door.
He opens it slowly. The hallway is empty. But the carpet—
There. A faint scorch mark. And a thin wire, nearly invisible, strung across the floor.
“Trap,” he murmurs.
“For us?”
He nods. “Magical. Fae-made. Triggers on movement.”
“Who would—”
“Malrik,” he says. “Or Seraphine. Either would love to see us dead.”
I think of the rival vampire—the way she’d looked at him in the Hall, all sharp smiles and hungry eyes. She’d do anything to break us. To claim him.
Kaelen steps over the wire, scans the corridor. “Clear.”
He turns back—just as the trap triggers.
Not on him.
On me.
A pulse of energy—blue, searing—explodes from the wire, slamming into my chest. I cry out, thrown backward, crashing into the wall. Pain lances through me—electric, burning. My vision whites out.
And then strong arms catch me.
Kaelen.
He lifts me effortlessly, one arm under my knees, the other supporting my back. I gasp, clutching his shoulders. His scent floods me—winter, iron, dark sweetness. My body responds instantly. Heat pools low. My breath hitches.
“You’re hurt,” he says, voice tight.
“I’m fine,” I manage.
“Liar.”
He carries me back into the suite, kicks the door shut. Gently, he lays me on the bed. His hands hover over me—hesitant.
“Let me see.”
“Don’t touch me.”
“The bond is flaring. You’re in pain.”
“So what? It’ll pass.”
“Not if you’re injured.”
He reaches for my coat. I slap his hand away.
“I said don’t.”
His eyes flash. “You’re being stubborn.”
“And you’re being arrogant. I don’t need your help.”
“You do.” He leans in, voice low. “And you hate that I’m right.”
I glare up at him. Our faces are close. Too close. I can see the flecks of gold in his crimson eyes. The faint scar above his lip. The way his fangs press against his lower lip when he’s tense.
My body betrays me. A shiver runs through me. Not from pain. From him.
And then—his breath ghosts over my neck.
Just a whisper. A flicker.
But it’s enough.
The bond ignites.
Heat surges between us—golden, electric. The sigil on my palm flares, burning bright. I gasp. My back arches. My thighs press together, trying to ease the sudden, desperate ache.
Kaelen freezes. His eyes lock on mine. His breath comes faster—unnatural for a vampire. His fangs lengthen.
“Cora,” he whispers.
His hand moves to my hip. Not rough. Not demanding. Just… there. A touch. A question.
And I don’t push him away.
I should. I should. But I can’t. The bond is too strong. The pull is too deep. And for one reckless, traitorous moment, I want to know what it would feel like—his mouth on mine, his body over me, the weight of him claiming me.
But then—
A knock.
Sharp. Official.
The moment shatters.
Kaelen pulls back. Steps away. The heat recedes, leaving me cold, trembling, empty.
“Yes?” he calls, voice back to ice.
The door opens. A werewolf guard—Dain, his name tag reads—stands there. “Apologies. We detected a magical surge. Is everything—” He stops, eyes flicking between us. “Ah. Bond reaction.”
“Trap in the hall,” Kaelen says. “She was hit.”
Dain’s gaze sharpens. “Injured?”
“No,” I say quickly. “Just startled.”
Dain nods. “We’ll secure the corridor. And…” He hesitates. “The High Judge requests your presence. Tomorrow’s session begins early.”
“We’ll be there,” Kaelen says.
Dain leaves. The door closes.
Silence returns. Heavier than before.
I sit up slowly. My body aches, but not from the trap. From him. From the touch that wasn’t, the kiss that almost was.
“You should rest,” Kaelen says, not looking at me.
“I’m not tired.”
“Liar.”
I glare. “Stop calling me that.”
“Then stop lying.”
He turns, walks to the window. Stares out at the city below—spires of glass and shadow, lit by enchanted lanterns. “You think I don’t feel it too? The bond. The pull. The way your scent drives me to the edge of control?”
I don’t answer.
“I’ve lived centuries,” he says. “Never wanted anyone the way I want you. Never needed like this.”
My breath catches.
“And that terrifies me,” he admits. “Because I don’t know if it’s the bond… or if it’s you.”
I don’t know what to say.
He turns back to me. “Sleep, Cora. We have a long day tomorrow.”
He moves to the other side of the bed. Lies down. Doesn’t touch me. Doesn’t speak.
I stay where I am. Staring at the ceiling. Listening to the silence. Feeling the bond hum between us—soft, steady, inescapable.
Hours pass.
I don’t sleep.
But I don’t move.
And neither does he.
Until dawn.
The first scan.
The guard arrives. Places the crystal between us.
It glows—gold. Bright. Stronger than before.
“The bond is stabilizing,” the guard says. “You’re passing the trial.”
Kaelen looks at me. “See? We belong together.”
I lift my chin. “This changes nothing.”
“It changes everything.”
And as I stand there, heart pounding, body humming with something I can’t name—
I know he’s right.
The mission hasn’t changed.
But I have.