I wasn’t supposed to be here.
The air in Blackthorne Keep was thick with iron and something darker—ancient, cloying, like wet stone and old wine. My boots made no sound on the obsidian tiles, but my pulse roared in my ears, loud enough to wake the dead. I pressed myself into the alcove, fingers brushing the cold wall, breath shallow. One wrong move, one flicker of light, and I’d be dead.
And I hadn’t even seen him yet.
But I could feel him.
Like a pull behind my ribs, a slow drag beneath my skin. A whisper in the blood. It wasn’t fear. Not entirely. It was something worse—recognition. As if my body knew him before my mind did. As if every cell in me had been waiting.
I hated it.
I hated *him*.
Kaelen Duskbane. The vampire lord who had presided over my sister’s execution. The monster who had signed her death warrant with a flick of his pen, then watched as the Council burned her alive for treason she didn’t commit. Cassia. My twin. My other half. Gone.
And now I was in his home, in the heart of his fortress, hunting the truth like a thief in the dark.
The ritual chamber was ahead. A single torch flickered at the end of the corridor, casting long, shifting shadows. I edged forward, heart hammering. The door was ajar—just enough to see through. Just enough to damn myself.
And then I saw him.
He stood over a stone altar, back to me, shoulders broad beneath a black velvet coat that fell like liquid shadow. His hair was dark, almost blue in the torchlight, cut short at the sides, longer on top. One hand rested on the altar’s edge, the other held a silver dagger, its blade slick with blood.
Not human blood.
At least, not entirely.
The liquid shimmered faintly, threaded with gold—fae essence. Forbidden. Dangerous. The kind of magic that could unravel a soul if mishandled.
He was murmuring in Old Tongue, voice low, resonant, vibrating through the stone floor and up my legs. I didn’t understand the words, but I felt them—like a hand sliding down my spine, slow and deliberate. My breath caught. My skin prickled.
Then he turned.
And the world stopped.
His face was carved from ice and fire—sharp cheekbones, a blade-straight nose, lips that looked too soft for a man who had sentenced my sister to death. But it was his eyes that froze me.
Red.
Not the dull, animal red of lesser vampires. These were deep, molten, like embers in a dying fire. They glowed faintly in the dark, seeing too much, knowing too much.
And they were locked on me.
I hadn’t moved. Hadn’t breathed. But he knew.
He smiled.
Not warm. Not kind. A slow, predatory curve of the lips, revealing the tips of his fangs—pale, sharp, deadly.
And then the bond snapped into place.
It wasn’t a sound. It wasn’t a sight. It was a *rupture*—a violent, electric crack inside my chest, like lightning splitting bone. I gasped, staggering back, clutching at my ribs. My vision whited out. My knees buckled.
And then—sensation.
Heat. Pressure. A pulse between my thighs, sudden and shameful. My nipples tightened against the fabric of my corset. My breath came in short, desperate gasps.
No.
No, no, *no*.
This wasn’t happening. This *couldn’t* happen. Fated bonds were myths. Lies told to control women, to chain them to men they didn’t choose. I was human. He was vampire. It was impossible.
But my body didn’t care.
It *knew* him.
And worse—it *wanted* him.
He moved before I could react. One second he was at the altar. The next, he was in the doorway, blocking my escape, his presence like a wall of cold fire. I tried to run, but my legs wouldn’t obey. My body was still thrumming from the bond, caught between terror and something darker, deeper.
He caught me by the wrist.
His hand was ice and steel—strong, unyielding. His thumb pressed over my pulse, feeling the frantic beat beneath my skin.
“You don’t belong here,” he said, voice a low growl that vibrated through my bones.
I yanked my arm, but he didn’t let go.
“I said,” he repeated, stepping closer, “you don’t belong here, little spy.”
His breath was cold against my neck. I shivered.
“I’m not a spy,” I lied, voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “I’m a liaison from the Human Oversight Committee. I was lost.”
He laughed—short, humorless. “Lost? In the west wing? Past three wards, two sentry points, and a blood-sealed door? You expect me to believe that?”
My throat tightened.
He leaned in, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You smell like fire and lies, little one. And something else…”
His free hand slid to my hip, pulling me against him. I stiffened. He was hard everywhere—muscle and bone and cold, unliving strength. His arousal pressed against my stomach, undeniable.
“You feel it too, don’t you?” he murmured. “The bond. The pull.”
“It’s not real,” I spat. “It’s magic. Trickery.”
“Is it?” He nipped my earlobe with his fang—just enough to sting, not enough to draw blood. “Then why is your heart racing? Why is your scent spiking with desire?”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. He was right. My body was betraying me—heat pooling low, breath coming too fast, skin too sensitive.
He turned me, pressing my back against the wall. One hand caged me in, the other still gripping my wrist. His red eyes burned into mine.
“You came here for a reason,” he said. “Tell me. Or I’ll take it from you.”
“Take what?” I challenged, lifting my chin. “My blood? My secrets? You’ve already taken everything else.”
His expression flickered—something like surprise, then recognition. “Cassia,” he said softly.
My breath caught.
He *knew*.
“You’re her sister,” he said, voice quieter now. “Athena.”
My name on his lips was a violation. Intimate. Possessive.
“You remember her,” I whispered, hate surging. “You remember the woman you murdered.”
His jaw clenched. “I didn’t kill her.”
“You signed the order.”
“I had no choice.”
“You watched her burn.”
“I was *there*,” he growled. “I tried to stop it.”
I laughed—bitter, broken. “You expect me to believe that? You, the great Kaelen Duskbane, powerless?”
He leaned in, his fangs grazing my neck. “You have no idea what I am capable of.”
His breath was cold. His body was a furnace. The bond flared between us, a live wire sparking under my skin. I should have been afraid. I should have fought.
But all I could think was—*closer*.
His lips brushed my pulse point. I gasped.
“You want me to bite you,” he murmured. “Don’t you?”
“No.”
“Liar.”
His hand slid up my arm, slow, deliberate, until his fingers tangled in my hair. He tilted my head to the side, exposing my throat.
“I could claim you right now,” he said. “Mark you as mine. Make you forget her. Make you forget everything but me.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” I breathed.
“Wouldn’t I?”
His fang pressed into my skin—just enough to sting. A bead of blood welled. He inhaled sharply, his body going taut against mine.
“Gods,” he whispered. “You taste like sunlight and sin.”
And then—sirens.
A wail tore through the keep, high and urgent. Red light pulsed through the corridor. He froze, fangs still at my neck.
“The Council,” he muttered. “They’ve sensed the bond.”
He pulled back, but didn’t release me. His eyes were wild, feral. “You’ve just started a war, Athena.”
“I didn’t do anything,” I said, voice shaking. “You’re the one who—”
“The bond doesn’t ignite without reason,” he snapped. “It *chooses*. And it chose *you*.”
He grabbed my arm, dragging me down the hall. “Come on. If we don’t present ourselves, they’ll assume you’re a threat. And they’ll execute you on sight.”
“You’d let them?”
He glanced at me, something unreadable in his gaze. “I don’t want you dead.”
“Why not?”
“Because,” he said, voice low, “if you die, I die with you.”
My breath caught.
He didn’t explain. Just pulled me forward, through winding corridors, past silent guards who bowed their heads but didn’t speak. The sirens wailed on. The bond hummed beneath my skin, a constant, aching presence.
And with every step, I felt it—the truth I couldn’t deny.
I had come to destroy him.
But the bond had other plans.
And when we reached the Council chamber—when the massive doors groaned open and twelve pairs of supernatural eyes turned to us—I knew one thing for certain.
My mission had just become impossible.
Because Kaelen Duskbane wasn’t just my enemy.
He was my fated mate.
And he was already marking me as his.
Even if I killed him, I’d never be free.