The battlefield was silent—no screams, no snarls, no crackling of shadow magic. Just the wind, low and mournful, curling through the shattered arch of the Western Gate, carrying with it the scent of scorched stone, blood, and ash. Malrik’s army was gone. Reduced to nothing. Not even bones remained. Only dust, scattered like dark snow across the blackened ground.
And at the center—
Nothing.
No body. No cloak. No lingering trace of that cold, void-like presence. Just a scorched circle in the stone, still warm beneath my boots, where he’d stood. Where I’d burned him.
I stared at it, my breath shallow, my hands trembling—not from exhaustion, not from pain, but from the weight of what I’d done. I hadn’t just killed him.
I’d erased him.
Not with fire alone. Not with magic. But with everything I was—every broken piece of my soul, every lie I’d believed, every moment I’d spent hating the wrong man. I’d poured it all into the flames, and they’d answered. They’d consumed him. Not just his flesh. Not just his power.
His soul.
And gods help me—I didn’t regret it.
“Athena.”
Kaelen’s voice was low, rough, still raw from the shadow fire that had torn through his chest. He stood beside me, one hand pressed to the spot where Malrik had burned him, his coat torn, his face pale. But he was alive. His eyes—those burning red eyes—were fixed on me, not with awe, not with fear, but with something deeper.
Understanding.
“You’re shaking,” he said, stepping closer.
I didn’t answer. Just stared at the scorched circle. At the emptiness. At the silence.
It was over.
Malrik was gone.
The Veil was whole.
And yet—
I didn’t feel peace.
I felt… hollow.
Like I’d reached the end of a war only to realize I didn’t know who I was without it.
“You saved me,” he said, his hand finding mine. His fingers were cool, steady, but I could feel the tremor beneath the surface. Not from injury. From emotion. “You pulled the poison into yourself. You burned it. You saved me.”
“You would’ve done the same,” I said, my voice quiet.
“Yes,” he said. “But that doesn’t make it less.”
I finally looked at him. At the man who’d let me hate him for five years to keep me alive. At the man who’d worn my sister’s locket every night like a blade to his heart. At the man who’d stood in front of me and said, *“I would’ve died for her. I will for you.”*
And I believed him.
Not because the bond told me to.
Not because the magic demanded it.
But because I finally saw the truth.
And it wasn’t in his words.
It was in his silence.
“I came here to kill you,” I said, voice breaking. “And instead—”
“You saved me,” he said, cutting me off. “You saved *us*.”
I didn’t answer. Just leaned into him, my head resting against his chest, my ear over where a heart should be. No beat. No pulse. Just stillness.
And yet—
I could feel it.
Not in his chest.
But in mine.
The bond hummed—steady, deep, a second heartbeat. Not forced. Not manipulated. Chosen.
And then—
A voice.
Not from behind us.
Not from the battlefield.
From within.
“You did it,” Cassia said, her voice soft, bright, like sunlight through stained glass. “You both did. The Veil is sealed. The bond is true. And you—” A pause. “You’re finally free.”
Tears spilled over.
Not fast. Not loud. Just a single, silent track down my cheek. I didn’t wipe it away.
“I miss you,” I whispered.
“I know,” she said. “But I’m still here. In the fire. In the shadows. In the bond between you. In the vow you just made.”
I closed my eyes.
“Will I ever see you again?”
“Not in this life,” she said. “But in the next? Maybe. Until then—live. Fight. Love. And don’t let my death be in vain.”
And then—
She was gone.
Not vanished. Not silenced.
Just… peaceful.
I opened my eyes, looking up at Kaelen. He was watching me, his face unreadable, but his eyes—his eyes burned with something raw. Grief. Relief. Love.
“She’s at peace,” I said.
He nodded once. “So are you.”
I didn’t answer.
Just held on tighter.
Because for the first time in five years, I wasn’t running.
I wasn’t hiding.
I wasn’t fighting alone.
I had him.
And that—
That was everything.
“We should return to the keep,” Kaelen said after a long moment. “The wards are broken. The inner guard needs to be reorganized. And you—” He looked down at me, his thumb brushing the fresh mark on my neck. “You need to rest.”
“I’m not tired,” I said.
“You’re lying,” he said. “I can feel it. The bond. Your magic is spent. Your body is running on willpower and fire.”
I didn’t argue. Just nodded.
We walked back in silence, our footsteps echoing through the empty halls. The keep was quiet—too quiet. No guards. No servants. No whispers from the corridors. Just the echo of what had been, of what had passed.
And then—
Silas.
He stood at the edge of the main hall, his coat open, his dark eyes burning with something I couldn’t name—relief? Fear? Awe? He didn’t speak. Didn’t bow. Just looked at Kaelen. Then at me. Then at the scorched armor, the cracked runes, the ash still clinging to my boots.
And he nodded.
One sharp dip of his chin. A soldier’s salute. A brother’s acknowledgment.
“It’s done,” Kaelen said.
“I felt it,” Silas replied. “The Veil. It’s stronger. The magic—” He paused, glancing at me. “It’s different now.”
“Because it’s true,” I said.
Silas didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. “Then it’s over.”
“It’s not over,” I said. “It’s just beginning.”
Kaelen looked at me—those red eyes peeling back every layer, searching for the lie, the hesitation, the doubt.
And when he found none—
He smiled.
Just slightly.
Just enough.
“Then we rebuild,” he said.
“Together,” I said.
Silas turned, gesturing to the inner guard. “The Blood Tribunal is in chaos. Malrik’s allies are scrambling. Some are surrendering. Others are fleeing. The Council will need to be reformed.”
“Let them,” Kaelen said. “We don’t answer to them anymore. Not unless they answer to *us*.”
“And the Dregs?” Silas asked. “The ones who served Malrik. What do we do with them?”
Kaelen looked at me.
I didn’t hesitate. “We offer them a choice. Serve under new law. Or leave. But if they raise a hand against the Veil again, they burn.”
Silas nodded. “It’ll be done.”
“And Maeve?” I asked.
“She’s in the infirmary,” Silas said. “She arrived just after the battle. Said she felt the shift in the magic. Knew it was over.”
I turned to Kaelen. “I need to see her.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded. “Go. I’ll handle the rest.”
I stepped forward, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re not coming?”
“I will,” he said. “But not yet. There are decisions to make. Orders to give. And I need to make sure the keep is secure.”
“And you’re not just saying that to get rid of me?”
He almost smiled. Almost. “If I wanted to get rid of you, I’d have done it five years ago.”
“And yet you didn’t.”
“No,” he said, pulling me into his arms. “Because I was waiting for you to see me. To choose me. And now that you have—” His voice dropped, low, dangerous. “I’m never letting you go.”
He kissed me then—slow, deep, devouring. Not fire. Not teeth. But truth. His lips sealed over mine, not claiming, not conquering, but answering. And I answered back. My hands fisted in his coat, pulling him closer, until there was no space between us. The bond screamed—a live wire, a pulse of heat and need. I could feel his thoughts, not in words, but in sensation: closer, more, now.
But this time—this time it wasn’t the fever. Not the bond. Not the magic.
It was me.
He broke the kiss, just enough to breathe, to look at me, to see the raw, unguarded emotion in his eyes.
“No fangs,” I whispered.
He smiled—just slightly, just enough. “No blood. No magic. Just… this.”
And then he kissed me again.
Not slow this time. Not careful.
Fire.
Teeth and tongue and desperation. He groaned, his arms locking around me, pulling me closer, until there was no space between us. The bond screamed—a live wire, a pulse of heat and need. I could feel his thoughts, not in words, but in sensation: closer, more, now.
His hands slid down my back, under the curve of my ass, lifting me slightly, pressing me against the hard length of him. I gasped, my hips grinding down, seeking friction. He growled, his mouth trailing down my jaw, to the pulse point at my throat. I arched, offering myself.
“Kaelen—”
“Tell me to stop,” he said, his fangs grazing my skin. “Or I won’t.”
I didn’t answer.
I arched my neck, offering myself.
And gods help me, I wanted him to take me.
I wanted him to bite. To mark. To claim me in front of every root, every vine, every secret this cursed world held.
But then—
He saw it.
In the reflection of the obsidian table—my face. Not just desire. Not just need.
Trust.
Not of the bond.
Not of fate.
Of him.
And that—
That was the line.
He pulled back.
Not far. Just enough to break the contact. His hand still in my hair. His body still pressed to mine. His breath ragged.
“No,” he said, voice raw. “Not like this.”
I blinked, dazed. “What?”
“I won’t take you like this,” he said. “Not with the bond screaming in your blood. Not with your mind torn between vengeance and desire. Not when you don’t know if you want me—or if you just want to destroy me.”
My eyes darkened. “You don’t get to decide that.”
“I do,” he said. “Because if I take you now, it won’t be you choosing me. It’ll be the magic. And I want you. Not a spell. Not a bond. You.”
I stared at him. Then—anger. Hot, fierce, beautiful.
“You’re a coward,” I spat. “You don’t get to touch me and then walk away like some noble martyr. You don’t get to—”
“I don’t want to walk away,” he said, cutting me off. “I want to stay. I want to fight for you. I want to earn you. But not like this. Not when the bond is forcing us.”
I shoved him—hard. He let me. Stepped back, giving me space. My chest heaved. My eyes burned.
“You hate me,” I said.
“You don’t,” he said. “You hate that you want me.”
I didn’t answer. Just turned, snatching up the satchel, my movements sharp, furious.
And then—
I froze.
My breath stopped.
My eyes locked onto something at his neck.
The locket.
I’d forgotten it. In the heat, the hunger, the need—I’d forgotten it was there. The silver chain, thin and old, the locket itself small, antique. Cassia’s face inside. Her dark hair, high cheekbones, haunting smile.
He’d worn it every night since she died. Hidden beneath his shirt. A secret. A penance. A promise.
And now it was exposed.
I reached out—slow, trembling—and snapped it open.
And there she was.
Cassia.
Smiling. Alive. Gone.
My breath came in short, desperate gasps. My fingers tightened around the locket. My eyes filled with tears—but not of grief.
Of rage.
“You kept this,” I whispered. “All this time. You kept her close.”
“Because she asked me to.”
“And you never showed it to me?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to see it.”
“You didn’t think you’d want to see my sister’s face?”
“I didn’t think you’d want to see it around my neck.”
I stared at him. The bond flared—pain, heat, truth.
And then—
I slapped him.
Not hard. Not cruel. But sharp. A crack in the silence. His head snapped to the side. He didn’t move. Didn’t flinch.
“Did you love her?” I asked, voice breaking. “Did you love her?”
“No,” he said, turning back to me. “I protected her. I promised her I’d keep you safe. And I will. Even if you hate me. Even if you never believe me. Even if you never stop fighting me.”
I didn’t answer.
Just stared at the locket. At her face. At the promise he’d made.
And then—
I stood.
Not running. Not screaming. Just standing. Slow. Deliberate. My eyes dark, unreadable.
“I need air,” I said.
And I walked out of the war room.
He didn’t stop me.
He couldn’t.
Because for the first time in four hundred years—
He was afraid.
Afraid I might believe him.
Afraid I might not.
Afraid that if I did, he’d lose me anyway.
The keep was quiet.
The fire between us?
It wasn’t just beginning.
It was consuming us.
And I didn’t know if we’d survive it.
But this time—
I wouldn’t let go.
Not of him.
Not of us.
Not of the truth.
And as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in blood and gold, I made a silent vow.
I would fight for him.
Not just with fangs and blood and fire.
But with every broken piece of my soul.
Because Kaelen wasn’t just my fated mate.
He was my redemption.
And I would not lose him.
Even if it killed me.
Even if he never loved me back.
Even if he never stopped hating me.
I would fight for him.
Because he was worth it.
And as I stood there, the courtyard silent, the ashes of Riven scattered by the wind, I realized—
For the first time in four hundred years—
I wasn’t afraid of love.
I was afraid of losing it.
And that—
That was the difference.
Fanged Contract: Athena’s Vow
The first time Athena sees Kaelen Duskbane, he’s standing over a blood-smeared altar, his fangs bared in a ritual she wasn’t meant to witness. She hides in the shadows of Blackthorne Keep, heart pounding, not just from fear—but from the *pull*, the raw, electric snap of a fated bond that shouldn’t exist. She came to **burn him**, not *bond* with him.
But the ancient magic doesn’t care about revenge. It *claims*.
Now, to stop a war between vampire houses and fae courts, the Supernatural Council forces them into a **one-year political marriage**—a fanged contract sealed with blood and a public kiss that leaves her trembling, her body betraying her with heat and need. Kaelen, cold and merciless, sees her as a pawn. But the way his fingers linger on her wrist, the way his gaze burns when she wears red silk, tells a different story.
Athena is no fool. She knows the game. She’ll play the devoted wife while she digs for proof of his guilt. But every touch, every shared breath, every night spent in the same bed without crossing the line—erodes her resolve. And when the seductive vampire mistress **Lirien** appears, flaunting Kaelen’s bite mark and whispering that he once begged her to stay, Athena’s jealousy ignites like wildfire.
By Chapter 9, a mission gone wrong strands them in a cursed forest, where bond fever forces them to the edge of surrender—until Athena sees a locket with her sister’s face around his neck. **Is he the killer… or was he protecting her?**
The truth will destroy everything. And desire may be the only thing that can save them.