The first lie I told was the easiest.
“I come in peace.”
My voice didn’t shake. My hands didn’t tremble. I stood at the threshold of the Fae High Court’s Grand Atrium, sunlight fractured through stained quartz overhead, painting the marble floor in shards of violet and crimson. Around me, courtiers in silk and shadow-forged armor watched, their expressions masks of polite disinterest. I wore a gown of storm-gray velvet, high-collared, long-sleeved—concealing the witch’s dagger strapped to my forearm, the blood sigils inked beneath my left palm. My hair, dark as a thunderhead, was pinned back with silver pins forged from my mother’s last spell. Every inch of me was a weapon. Every breath, a deception.
But none of that mattered the moment I saw him.
Prince Kael Valen stood at the ritual dais, flanked by vampire nobles in blood-dyed robes. He was taller than I expected, broader through the shoulders, his frame honed by centuries of command. His face—sharp, severe, carved from moonlight and shadow—was impassive. Black hair swept back from a high forehead, eyes like frozen obsidian scanning the room with detached precision. He wore no crown, only a silver circlet etched with runes of sovereignty. Power clung to him like a second skin. Cold. Absolute.
I’d studied his image a hundred times. Memorized his voice from intercepted recordings. Practiced the exact angle of the blade, the precise moment to strike.
But no amount of preparation could have readied me for the way my blood turned to lightning the second our eyes met.
A whisper of wind curled around my throat. My pulse jumped. My magic—dormant, coiled—stirred beneath my ribs like a storm waking.
No.
This wasn’t part of the plan.
“Envoy Tide of the Storm-Witch Line,” the High Queen’s herald intoned, “you are welcomed in the name of the Supernal Accord.”
I stepped forward, my heels silent on the stone. The air thickened with glamour—scent of night-blooming jasmine, the taste of copper on my tongue, a low hum in my bones. Fae magic. Testing me. Probing.
I let it slide off me like rain. My mother had taught me that. They want you to flinch. Don’t.
I reached the dais. Kael turned to face me fully, his expression unreadable. The ritual required a handshake—a symbolic gesture of trust between warring factions. A lie wrapped in another lie.
“Prince Kael,” I said, offering my right hand. “It is an honor.”
His gaze flicked to my face, then down to my hand. For a heartbeat, he didn’t move. Then, slowly, deliberately, he extended his own.
His fingers were long, pale, the nails black as polished onyx. When his skin met mine—cool, smooth, electric—the world exploded.
Fire ripped through my veins.
Lightning cracked behind my eyes.
I gasped, staggering back, but his grip tightened—iron, unyielding. The bond surged, a tidal wave of raw magic crashing between us. It wasn’t just power. It was recognition. A primal, ancient force roaring to life after centuries of dormancy. Fated. Forbidden.
My knees buckled.
“No—” I choked, trying to wrench free, but the magic held me like chains. My vision whited out. Pain and pleasure fused into a single, unbearable current. I could feel him—his mind brushing mine, his pulse syncing with mine, his hunger, his control, his need—and beneath it all, a flicker of something darker. Grief. Guilt.
“Tide,” he murmured, and my name on his lips was a brand.
I screamed.
Not from pain. From rage. From terror. From the horrifying, undeniable truth that shot through me like a bolt from the sky:
I came to destroy you.
The words tore from my throat, raw and unbidden. “I came to destroy you!”
The chamber fell silent.
Every eye in the room locked onto me. Gasps. Whispers. The scrape of steel being drawn.
Kael didn’t release me. If anything, his grip tightened. His other hand came up, cupping the back of my neck, holding me upright as the bond continued to flood my body with white-hot energy. His thumb brushed my jaw, a gesture almost tender—except for the warning in his eyes.
“Careful, little storm,” he said, voice low, meant only for me. “You’re surrounded by enemies. And you’ve just revealed your heart.”
I tried to glare, but my body was still trembling, my magic spiraling out of control. Arcs of blue-white lightning flickered over my skin, dancing along the veins in my arms. The sigils beneath my palm glowed faintly, reacting to the surge.
He saw them.
Of course he did.
“You’re not just a witch,” he murmured. “You’re a killer.”
“And you’re a murderer,” I spat back, voice shaking. “Your father enslaved my mother. He broke her. He killed her.”
His expression didn’t change. Not a flicker. But I felt it—through the bond—a ripple of something like sorrow. Regret?
“That was not my doing,” he said quietly. “But you already knew that, didn’t you? You didn’t come here for peace. You came for revenge.”
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The bond pulsed between us, a living thing, feeding on our anger, our proximity, our undeniable connection. It was supposed to be impossible. Fated bonds hadn’t existed between species in over three hundred years. The High Court had declared them myth. Lies told to control the masses.
But this was real.
And it was unraveling me.
“Let me go,” I demanded, trying to pull back, but his hand on my neck held firm.
“No,” he said simply. “You’ve ignited a divine bond in front of the entire court. The elders will demand we be wed. The High Queen will declare it fate. And if I release you now, they’ll execute you as a spy before you reach the gates.”
My breath caught. He was right. I could see the High Queen on her throne, silver-haired and ageless, her eyes sharp as daggers. The vampire nobles were already murmuring, some in awe, others in suspicion. The werewolf delegation—led by Beta Riven, my only ally in this den of vipers—watched with grim understanding.
I was trapped.
“So you’ll use me,” I whispered. “Chain me to you to secure your power.”
“I’ll save your life,” he corrected. “And in return, you’ll play the devoted fiancée. Smile when you want to spit. Bow when you want to strike. And stay the hell away from my father’s secrets.”
“Your father is dead,” I snapped.
His lips curved, just slightly. “Is he?”
Before I could respond, the High Queen rose, her voice echoing through the chamber like a bell.
“The bond has been ignited! By the laws of the Supernal Accord and the will of the ancients, Prince Kael Valen and Envoy Tide of the Storm-Witch Line are hereby bound in sacred union! Let the rites begin!”
Cheers erupted. Some genuine. Most political.
Kael finally released me, but only to take my hand in his, raising it before the court. The bond flared again at the contact, sending a jolt through my core. My knees nearly gave out.
He leaned in, his lips brushing my ear. His breath was cold, his voice a velvet threat.
“You’ll play my fiancée,” he whispered. “Or die before dawn.”
Then he kissed me.
Not on the lips. On the back of my hand.
But it burned like a brand.
The chamber erupted in celebration. Musicians struck up a haunting melody. Fae nobles raised crystal goblets. Vampires clinked silver chalices. Werewolves howled in approval—Riven’s voice among them, low and warning.
I stood frozen, my hand still in Kael’s, my body humming with residual magic, my mind racing.
I had come here to kill him.
Instead, I was bound to him.
And the worst part?
When his lips had touched my skin, when the bond had surged, when his voice had curled around me like smoke—I hadn’t wanted to kill him.
I’d wanted to claim him.
The realization hit me like a physical blow.
This wasn’t just a bond.
It was a corruption.
And I was already falling.
Kael turned to me, his expression unreadable, but his thumb traced the pulse point on my wrist—slow, deliberate, possessive.
“Smile, fiancée,” he murmured. “The world is watching.”
I forced my lips upward, baring my teeth in something that might pass for joy.
Inside, I was screaming.
I had one goal.
Break the bond that enslaved my mother.
And now?
Now I was bound to the very bloodline that created it.
The irony was a knife in my chest.
But as Kael led me from the dais, his hand tight on mine, I made a new vow—one I whispered into the silence of my own mind.
I would play his devoted fiancée.
I would wear his ring.
I would kiss him when required.
And when the time came—when I found the contract, when I broke the curse, when I stood over the monster who destroyed my mother—I would make Kael Valen watch.
Then I’d kill him too.
The bond flared again, as if in warning.
I didn’t flinch.
Let it burn.
Let it rage.
Let it try to break me.
I was Tide of the Storm-Witch Line.
And I was not meant to be tamed.