The vial burned in my palm like a brand.
Not from heat. Not from magic. But from weight. The weight of my mother’s blood—dark, ancient, humming with a power that had once shaped storms and shattered chains. The weight of Mara’s confession, her tears, her trembling hands as she pressed it into mine. The weight of knowing—finally—that I hadn’t been fighting alone. That she’d been preparing me not for vengeance, but for liberation.
And the weight of him.
Kael—no, Elion—stood beside me in the suite, his presence a steady, silent force. He hadn’t spoken since we returned. Hadn’t tried to touch me. Hadn’t even looked at me. But I could feel him—through the bond, through the quiet hum beneath my skin, through the way my pulse still hitched when he shifted, when his coat brushed the floor, when his breath ghosted over my neck.
I hated that.
I hated that even now—after everything—I still felt him.
“You should rest,” he said, voice low, rough. “You’ve been through enough today.”
“I don’t need rest,” I snapped. “I need answers. I need the contract. I need to know how to break it.”
He turned, finally meeting my eyes. Obsidian. Unreadable. But beneath it—something darker. Something I couldn’t name.
“You already know how,” he said. “The name. The blood. The bond.”
“Then why hasn’t it worked?” I demanded. “Why hasn’t the bond broken? Why is it still chaining her soul?”
“Because it’s not just a bond,” he said. “It’s a curse. And curses don’t break with truth. They break with power. With sacrifice. With the one who forged it.”
My breath caught.
“You mean Vexen.”
He nodded. “He’s the only one who can undo it. Or destroy it.”
“And if he won’t?”
“Then we take it from him,” he said, stepping closer. “By force. By fire. By blood.”
I stared at him. At the man who had once been my enemy. At the boy who had brought my mother water. At the vampire who had whispered her name like a prayer.
And for the first time, I didn’t see a monster.
I saw a weapon.
And I wanted to wield him.
“Then we find him,” I said. “We end this.”
He didn’t answer. Just reached for the vial in my hand, his fingers brushing mine—cool, deliberate. The bond flared, warm and deep, a silent claim. I didn’t pull away.
“Not yet,” he said. “The Council is calling us. Now.”
My stomach dropped. “Why?”
“They know about the storm,” he said. “About Vexen’s vision. About the blood memory. They want answers. And they want the bond sealed.”
“Sealed how?”
“A public ceremony,” he said. “In seven days. A full bonding ritual. Blood, breath, and body.”
The room tilted.
“You’re joking.”
“I’m not.”
“You think I’m going to let them parade me like some kind of trophy? That I’m going to let them force us into a ritual that—” I cut myself off, jaw clenching. “No. I won’t do it.”
“You don’t have a choice,” he said, stepping closer. “If we refuse, they’ll declare us traitors. They’ll tear the bond apart. And if they do…”
“Then what?” I challenged.
“Then you’ll die,” he said, voice low, dangerous. “Storm Sickness will rip through you. Lightning will tear your body apart. And I’ll be powerless to stop it.”
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From the way his voice dropped—low, rough, intimate.
From the way his hand lifted, his thumb brushing my lower lip. The bond flared—warm, deep, aching. My body leaned into his touch without permission.
And I hated that I didn’t pull away.
“You’re not giving me a choice,” I whispered.
“I’m giving you survival,” he said. “And a chance to fight another day.”
I wanted to argue. To rage. To summon lightning and tear the room apart.
But I didn’t.
Because he was right.
And that was the worst part.
“Fine,” I said, voice cold. “I’ll play their little game. But don’t think this means I’m yours.”
“You already are,” he said, stepping closer. “You just haven’t accepted it yet.”
The Council Chamber was colder than I remembered, the air thick with the scent of old magic and something darker—fear. The High Queen sat at the center, her silver crown gleaming, her eyes sharp as daggers. The elders stood in a half-circle, cloaked in their house colors. No Lyra. No whispers. No shadows.
Just silence.
And judgment.
“Prince Kael Valen,” the High Queen intoned. “Tide of the Storm-Witch Line. You stand before the Council to answer for the instability of your bond. Explain.”
Kael didn’t hesitate. “The bond is not unstable. It is evolving. It is alive. It is rejecting artificial control.”
“And the storm?” an elder demanded. “The blood vision? The shattered wards?”
“Vexen,” Kael said. “My father. He’s alive. He’s using blood magic to summon storms, to anchor his return. And he wants Tide’s blood to complete his immortality ritual.”
The chamber erupted.
“Impossible!”
“He was destroyed!”
“The records show his death!”
“The records were falsified,” I said, stepping forward. “By him. To hide his crimes. To enslave my mother. To wait for the fated bond to awaken.”
“And you believe this?” the High Queen asked, eyes narrowing.
“I’ve seen him,” I said. “In the storm. In the blood memory. He’s not a ghost. He’s not a vision. He’s real. And he’s coming.”
“Then why hasn’t he struck?” another elder asked.
“Because he can’t,” Kael said. “Not yet. The bond protects her. But it’s not enough. Not if we’re separated. Not if the Council declares us traitors.”
“Then prove your loyalty,” the High Queen said, voice sharp. “Seal the bond. In seven days. A full ritual. Blood, breath, and body. Before the court. Before the world.”
My stomach dropped.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “That’s not a ritual. That’s a consummation.”
“It is a binding,” the Queen said. “And it is required. Refuse, and war begins. The vampire houses will turn on each other. The Fae will take sides. And the balance of power will collapse.”
“And if we agree?” Kael asked.
“Then peace holds,” she said. “For now. And you will be granted full access to the Valen archives. To find the truth. To destroy Vexen.”
I looked at Kael. At the man who had once been my enemy. At the vampire who had given me my mother’s journal. At the one who had whispered her name like a prayer.
And I didn’t know whether to trust him… or fear him.
“We accept,” he said, before I could speak.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I snapped, turning to him.
“I already did,” he said, stepping closer. “Because if we don’t, you die. And I won’t let that happen.”
The chamber fell silent.
And then—
The High Queen raised a hand. “It is decided. The bond will be sealed in seven days. May the fates guide you.”
We left in silence, the weight of the ultimatum pressing between us. Back in the suite, the door clicked shut behind us, and I didn’t wait.
“You had no right,” I said, turning to him. “You had no right to agree to that. Not without me.”
“I had every right,” he said, stepping closer. “Because I’m the only one who can protect you. And if that means forcing your hand, I’ll do it.”
“You think this is about control?” I demanded. “You think parading me like some kind of trophy proves something?”
“I think it keeps you alive,” he said. “The Council sees a united front. A bond that can’t be broken. And that means they won’t try to break it.”
“And if they had?”
“Then I’d kill them,” he said simply. “Anyone who tries to take you from me dies.”
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From the way his voice dropped—low, rough, intimate.
From the way my body responded—heat pooling low in my belly, the bond flaring beneath my skin.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I whispered.
“I already did,” he said. “You’re mine, Tide. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”
I wanted to argue. To rage. To summon lightning and tear the room apart.
But I didn’t.
Because he was right.
And that was the worst part.
“I came here to destroy you,” I said, voice breaking. “To burn your house to the ground. To make you pay for what your father did.”
“And now?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Now I don’t know what I want,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer. Just reached for me, his hand lifting to brush a strand of wild hair from my face. His thumb traced my lower lip. The bond flared—warm, deep, aching. My breath hitched. My body leaned into his touch without permission.
And I hated that I didn’t pull away.
“Then let me show you,” he said.
And before I could answer, he kissed me.
Not like in the hall. Not for show.
This was real.
His mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding, his fangs grazing my lip, drawing a bead of blood. The bond exploded—fire and lightning, hunger and rage, desire so sharp it was pain. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, my body pressing against his, every inch of me screaming for more.
He groaned, one hand tangling in my hair, the other sliding down, gripping my thigh, lifting me—
And then—
A knock.
Hard. Insistent.
The door burst open.
Riven.
He froze in the doorway, his amber eyes wide, taking in the scene—me in Kael’s arms, my lips swollen, his hand on my thigh, his fangs still bared.
“I—” he started, then stopped, jaw clenching. “The Council requests your presence. Immediately.”
Kael didn’t release me. Just turned his head, his voice low, dangerous. “We’ll be there.”
He hesitated—then nodded, backing out, shutting the door.
Silence.
Kael slowly lowered me, his hands still on my hips, his eyes searching mine. “You’re not going to kill me,” he said again. “Not today.”
“No,” I whispered. “Not today.”
But tomorrow?
Tomorrow, I wasn’t so sure.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
The Council Chamber was colder than I remembered, the air thick with the scent of old magic and something darker—fear. The High Queen sat at the center, her silver crown gleaming, her eyes sharp as daggers. The elders stood in a half-circle, cloaked in their house colors. No Lyra. No whispers. No shadows.
Just silence.
And judgment.
“Prince Kael Valen,” the High Queen intoned. “Tide of the Storm-Witch Line. You stand before the Council to answer for the instability of your bond. Explain.”
Kael didn’t hesitate. “The bond is not unstable. It is evolving. It is alive. It is rejecting artificial control.”
“And the storm?” an elder demanded. “The blood vision? The shattered wards?”
“Vexen,” Kael said. “My father. He’s alive. He’s using blood magic to summon storms, to anchor his return. And he wants Tide’s blood to complete his immortality ritual.”
The chamber erupted.
“Impossible!”
“He was destroyed!”
“The records show his death!”
“The records were falsified,” I said, stepping forward. “By him. To hide his crimes. To enslave my mother. To wait for the fated bond to awaken.”
“And you believe this?” the High Queen asked, eyes narrowing.
“I’ve seen him,” I said. “In the storm. In the blood memory. He’s not a ghost. He’s not a vision. He’s real. And he’s coming.”
“Then why hasn’t he struck?” another elder asked.
“Because he can’t,” Kael said. “Not yet. The bond protects her. But it’s not enough. Not if we’re separated. Not if the Council declares us traitors.”
“Then prove your loyalty,” the High Queen said, voice sharp. “Seal the bond. In seven days. A full ritual. Blood, breath, and body. Before the court. Before the world.”
My stomach dropped.
“You can’t be serious,” I said. “That’s not a ritual. That’s a consummation.”
“It is a binding,” the Queen said. “And it is required. Refuse, and war begins. The vampire houses will turn on each other. The Fae will take sides. And the balance of power will collapse.”
“And if we agree?” Kael asked.
“Then peace holds,” she said. “For now. And you will be granted full access to the Valen archives. To find the truth. To destroy Vexen.”
I looked at Kael. At the man who had once been my enemy. At the vampire who had given me my mother’s journal. At the one who had whispered her name like a prayer.
And I didn’t know whether to trust him… or fear him.
“We accept,” he said, before I could speak.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I snapped, turning to him.
“I already did,” he said, stepping closer. “Because if we don’t, you die. And I won’t let that happen.”
The chamber fell silent.
And then—
The High Queen raised a hand. “It is decided. The bond will be sealed in seven days. May the fates guide you.”
We left in silence, the weight of the ultimatum pressing between us. Back in the suite, the door clicked shut behind us, and I didn’t wait.
“You had no right,” I said, turning to him. “You had no right to agree to that. Not without me.”
“I had every right,” he said, stepping closer. “Because I’m the only one who can protect you. And if that means forcing your hand, I’ll do it.”
“You think this is about control?” I demanded. “You think parading me like some kind of trophy proves something?”
“I think it keeps you alive,” he said. “The Council sees a united front. A bond that can’t be broken. And that means they won’t try to break it.”
“And if they had?”
“Then I’d kill them,” he said simply. “Anyone who tries to take you from me dies.”
My breath caught.
Not from fear.
From the way his voice dropped—low, rough, intimate.
From the way my body responded—heat pooling low in my belly, the bond flaring beneath my skin.
“You don’t get to decide that,” I whispered.
“I already did,” he said. “You’re mine, Tide. And I don’t let go of what’s mine.”
I wanted to argue. To rage. To summon lightning and tear the room apart.
But I didn’t.
Because he was right.
And that was the worst part.
“I came here to destroy you,” I said, voice breaking. “To burn your house to the ground. To make you pay for what your father did.”
“And now?” he asked, stepping closer.
“Now I don’t know what I want,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer. Just reached for me, his hand lifting to brush a strand of wild hair from my face. His thumb traced my lower lip. The bond flared—warm, deep, aching. My breath hitched. My body leaned into his touch without permission.
And I hated that I didn’t pull away.
“Then let me show you,” he said.
And before I could answer, he kissed me.
Not like in the hall. Not for show.
This was real.
His mouth crashed into mine, hot and demanding, his fangs grazing my lip, drawing a bead of blood. The bond exploded—fire and lightning, hunger and rage, desire so sharp it was pain. My hands fisted in his shirt, pulling him closer, my body pressing against his, every inch of me screaming for more.
He groaned, one hand tangling in my hair, the other sliding down, gripping my thigh, lifting me—
And then—
A knock.
Hard. Insistent.
The door burst open.
Riven.
He froze in the doorway, his amber eyes wide, taking in the scene—me in Kael’s arms, my lips swollen, his hand on my thigh, his fangs still bared.
“I—” he started, then stopped, jaw clenching. “The Council requests your presence. Immediately.”
Kael didn’t release me. Just turned his head, his voice low, dangerous. “We’ll be there.”
He hesitated—then nodded, backing out, shutting the door.
Silence.
Kael slowly lowered me, his hands still on my hips, his eyes searching mine. “You’re not going to kill me,” he said again. “Not today.”
“No,” I whispered. “Not today.”
But tomorrow?
Tomorrow, I wasn’t so sure.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to.