The healers came and went like ghosts—silent, efficient, their hands cool against my skin as they sealed the gash on my calf with enchanted salve and silver thread. The wound would scar. A reminder. Not just of the collapse, but of *him*. Of the way his fangs had sunk into my flesh, not to feed, but to heal. To bind.
And the vision.
I couldn’t stop seeing it.
A young man kneeling beside a child—me—hiding in the garden. “Stay quiet,” he whispers. “They’re coming.”
Me, trembling. “Who?”
“The ones who want to hurt you. I won’t let them. I promise.”
He’d kept that promise. For sixteen years.
And I’d repaid him with hatred.
I sat on the edge of the examination table, staring at the floor, my fingers pressing into the white stone. The bond pulsed in my chest, warm and insistent, a second heartbeat syncing with his. It wasn’t just magic. It wasn’t just survival.
It was *memory*.
He’d been there. From the beginning. Watching. Protecting. Waiting.
And I’d walked into the Court thinking I was the hunter.
When all along, I was the one being saved.
The door opened.
I didn’t look up.
“You’re lucky,” Cassian said, stepping inside. “Another inch, and you’d have lost the leg.”
“I’m not lucky,” I said. “I was *rescued*.”
He didn’t argue. Just handed me a folded black dress—clean, simple, no embellishments. “Kaelen sent this. Said you’d want to change.”
I took it, fingers brushing the soft fabric. “Where is he?”
“Council emergency session. The collapse has them spooked. They’re calling it an act of war.”
I stood, wincing as my leg protested. “It *was* war. Just not the kind they think.”
Cassian’s amber eyes flickered. “You know who did it.”
“Veylan,” I said. “Or someone working for him. The runes were witchcraft—blood-based, designed to destabilize stone. It wasn’t an accident. It was a message.”
“And the message is?”
“That I’m vulnerable. That the bond is weak. That if I don’t consummate it, I’ll die—and the Court will fall with me.”
He studied me. “And do you believe that?”
“I believe the bond will kill me if it’s not sealed,” I said. “But I don’t believe Kaelen wants me dead.”
“No,” Cassian said quietly. “He doesn’t.”
I looked up. “You’ve known him a long time.”
“Since before the Purge. Before the Blood Pact rose. He’s not the monster they say he is.”
“And Seraphine?” I asked. “What about her?”
His jaw tightened. “She’s dangerous. Not because she’s powerful—she’s not. But because she’s *clever*. She knows how to get inside people’s heads. How to make them doubt.”
“She’s working with Veylan.”
He didn’t deny it. Just nodded. “She’s been feeding him information for months. We’ve been trying to catch her, but she’s careful. Always deniable.”
“Until now,” I said. “Until she made it personal.”
He met my gaze. “Be careful, Elara. She won’t stop at whispers. She’ll use everything she has to break you.”
“Let her try,” I said, stepping past him. “I’m not easy to break.”
The suite was quiet when I returned. No Kaelen. No note. Just the fire burning low in the hearth, casting long shadows across the stone walls. I changed into the black dress, braided my hair back tightly, then stood at the window, looking out over the Obsidian Court.
Below, vampires moved like shadows through the tunnels, their voices low, their eyes watchful. The collapse had unsettled them. Made them afraid.
Good.
Fear was useful.
It made people careless.
I turned from the window and moved to the writing desk. The ledger from the Blood Pact Registry was still in my pocket. I pulled it out, flipping to the page with my mother’s name.
Isolde Shadowline. Status: Terminated. Blood harvested. Power transferred to Veylan Duskreaper.
I traced the words with my finger, my chest tight.
Terminated.
Like she was a contract. A resource.
Not a woman. Not a mother.
And Kaelen—he hadn’t killed her. He’d tried to save her. Tried to save *me*.
I closed the ledger, pressing it to my chest.
I didn’t know what to do with that.
Didn’t know what to do with *him*.
The bond pulsed, warm and insistent, a whisper in my blood: *He’s yours. You’re his. Accept it.*
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
Not until I was sure.
Knock. Knock.
“Elara.” Kaelen’s voice, low through the door. “The Council has called a formal dinner. You’re expected.”
I opened the door.
He stood there, dressed in black velvet and silver chainmail, his hair pulled back, his face all sharp angles and lethal grace. His golden eyes scanned me—my face, my leg, the ledger in my hand.
“You kept it,” he said.
“It’s proof,” I said. “I’m not letting it out of my sight.”
“Then bring it,” he said. “But be careful. The Council is watching. And Seraphine will be there.”
“I’m not afraid of her.”
“You should be,” he said. “She’s not just a rival. She’s a weapon. And she’s aiming for you.”
I lifted my chin. “Then let her fire.”
He almost smiled. Almost.
Then offered his arm.
I hesitated.
But I took it.
We walked through the halls in silence, our boots echoing on the stone. The Court was alive tonight—vampires in their finest silks and tailored suits, their voices low, their eyes sharp. They watched us. Whispers followed in our wake.
“Is it true? The bond isn’t sealed?”
“She won’t let him touch her.”
“She’ll be dead in seven days.”
I kept my spine straight, my gaze forward. Let them talk. Let them doubt.
I had the ledger.
I had the truth.
And I had *him*.
Whether I wanted him or not.
The Council dining hall was a vast chamber carved from black stone, the ceiling arching high above, embedded with veins of glowing obsidian that pulsed like slow heartbeats. A long table stretched down the center, set with bone china and silver cutlery. Twelve thrones rose at the head, but only eight were occupied.
And there, in the third seat from the left—
Seraphine DuLac.
She was dressed in emerald silk that hugged every curve, her dark hair cascading like a waterfall, her lips painted blood-red. A silver ring—one I’d seen before, one Kaelen had given to a donor—glinted on her finger.
She wasn’t supposed to wear it.
But she was.
And when she saw us, her lips curled into a slow, knowing smile.
Kaelen guided me to our seats—side by side at the head of the table. He didn’t let go of my arm until I was seated, his touch lingering a second too long, sending a jolt through me.
“Relax,” he murmured. “She wants you to react. Don’t give her the satisfaction.”
“I’m not afraid of her,” I said.
“Good,” he said. “Because she’s afraid of you.”
Before I could respond, Seraphine rose, her glass raised.
“To the newlyweds,” she purred, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “May your bond be… *sealed* before the week is out.”
The table murmured. A few clinked their glasses. Others watched, waiting.
I didn’t raise mine.
“Charming,” I said, voice cool. “But I don’t toast to threats.”
Her smile didn’t waver. “Threats? Oh, no. Just concern. We all know what happens to unbound hybrids. The bond-sickness is *so* cruel. Hallucinations. Fever. Madness. And then… death.”
“How kind of you to worry,” I said. “But I’m not unwell.”
“Yet,” she added. “But you will be. Unless you let him *in*.”
The table stilled.
Kaelen’s hand tightened on the arm of his chair, his golden eyes blazing.
“Careful, Seraphine,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “You’re treading close to treason.”
She laughed. “Treason? I’m just speaking the truth. The law is clear. Seven days. No consummation, no protection. And she’s already injured. How long do you think she’ll last?”
I stood.
“You don’t know me,” I said, voice sharp. “You don’t know what I’ve survived. And you don’t know what I’m capable of.”
She tilted her head, studying me. “Oh, I know *exactly* what you’re capable of. You’re a hybrid. Unstable. Unpredictable. And right now, you’re *weak*.”
“Weak?” I stepped forward. “You’re the one hiding behind lies and stolen rings. You’re not his lover. You’re a pawn. And Veylan’s going to discard you the moment you’re no longer useful.”
Her smile faltered.
Just for a second.
Then she stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper only I could hear. “You think you’re so special? That he *loves* you? He used to bite me here,” she said, trailing a finger down her neck. “He used to whisper my name while he fed. He used to *crave* me.”
My pulse jumped.
Not from fear.
From jealousy.
And something else.
Heat.
Unwanted, undeniable.
She smiled, seeing it. “He’ll never want you the way he wanted me. You’re just a duty. A bond. A *contract*.”
“Enough.” Kaelen was on his feet, his voice like thunder. “Sit down, Seraphine. Or I’ll have you removed.”
She didn’t move. Just looked at me, her eyes cold. “Enjoy your dinner, *Lady Duskbane*. I hear it’s the last one you’ll eat as a free woman.”
Then she turned and walked away, her emerald silk trailing behind her like blood.
The table was silent.
Everyone watching. Waiting.
I didn’t sit.
I turned and walked out, my boots clicking against the stone, my breath coming fast, my hands clenched into fists.
I didn’t stop until I reached the gardens—a hidden courtyard beneath the Court, carved into the volcanic rock, filled with black roses that bloomed in the dark. The air was cool, thick with the scent of earth and decay.
I pressed my palms to the stone wall, trying to steady myself.
But I couldn’t.
Her words echoed in my skull: *He used to crave me. He’ll never want you the way he wanted me.*
And worse—
I believed her.
Not because I thought Kaelen still wanted her.
But because I was afraid he *never* wanted me.
That I was just a duty. A bond. A contract.
That the heat between us—the fire, the need, the *want*—was just the magic. Just the bond.
Not real.
Not *me*.
Footsteps.
Slow. Deliberate.
“Elara.”
I didn’t turn.
“You shouldn’t have spoken to her like that,” I said. “She’ll use it against you.”
“Let her,” Kaelen said, stepping beside me. “She’s already working with Veylan. A few harsh words won’t change that.”
“She said you used to crave her,” I said, voice low. “That you bit her. Whispered her name.”
He didn’t deny it. “I did. Years ago. Before I knew who you were. Before the bond. It meant nothing.”
“And now?” I asked. “Does it mean something?”
He turned to me, his golden eyes burning in the dark. “Now, the only woman I crave is the one standing in front of me. The only name I want to whisper is yours.”
My breath caught.
“You don’t have to say that,” I said. “I know why you’re doing this. The bond. The Council. The seven days.”
“No,” he said, stepping closer. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because when I touch you, I don’t feel duty. I feel *fire*. Because when I smell your blood, I don’t think of obligation. I think of *hunger*. Because when you look at me like you hate me, I don’t feel anger. I feel *hope*.”
“Hope?”
“That one day, you’ll look at me and see *me*. Not the monster. Not the husband. Not the protector. Just *Kaelen*.”
I stared at him.
And for the first time, I saw it.
Not the vampire lord.
Not the warrior.
But the man.
Who had waited sixteen years.
Who had protected me.
Who had *loved* me.
And I didn’t know what to do with that.
So I did the only thing I could.
I turned and walked away.
But this time, I didn’t lock the door.