The storm didn’t just break—it shattered.
Not with wind. Not with rain.
With magic.
The moment our hands touched—Kael’s cool fingers locking with mine, our blood still mingling from the ritual—the bond didn’t just flare.
It exploded.
Lightning ripped through the archive, splitting the stone ceiling, tearing through the ancient tomes, igniting the air in violet and silver. The grimoire—Vexen’s cursed book of flesh and bone—was flung across the chamber, its pages fluttering like dying wings. The torches snuffed out, then roared back to life, their flames black and writhing, as if fed by shadow.
And in the center of it all—
Vexen.
He didn’t scream. Didn’t flinch.
He laughed.
Not the cold, hollow sound from before.
This was deeper. Darker. A sound that came from centuries of blood, of power, of stolen souls. His form wavered—no longer just shadow, but substance. Red eyes blazing. Fangs bared. Hands dripping with blood magic that pulsed like a heartbeat.
“You think this changes anything?” he snarled, his voice echoing through the stone, shaking the walls. “You think a broken contract and a shared touch make you strong? You’re children. Playing with fire. And I am the inferno.”
Kael didn’t answer.
Just stepped in front of me—his body a shield, his presence a wall—and unleashed the Shadow Veil.
Dark tendrils of night coiled from his limbs, folding space, carrying him across the chamber in a heartbeat. He struck—fist meeting fang, blood meeting shadow—sending Vexen stumbling back. The force of the impact cracked the floor, sent dust and debris raining down.
But Vexen didn’t fall.
He absorbed it.
His hand shot out, gripping Kael’s wrist, and I felt it—through the bond—the sudden, searing pain as Vexen’s blood magic tore through him, unraveling his veins, feeding on his power.
“No!” I screamed.
And then—
I was moving.
Not with thought. Not with strategy.
With instinct.
Lightning arced from my fingertips, slamming into Vexen’s back. He roared—more in annoyance than pain—and released Kael, spinning to face me, his eyes blazing with fury.
“You dare?” he hissed. “You, a half-breed witch, a storm-born abomination, think you can challenge me?”
“I’m not challenging you,” I said, stepping forward, my voice steady, my magic crackling over my skin. “I’m ending you.”
He laughed again—low, dangerous—and lunged.
But this time, I was ready.
I didn’t dodge. Didn’t retreat.
I met him.
Our bodies collided—me, small and human-seeming, him, towering and monstrous—and for a heartbeat, we were locked, his fangs grazing my neck, my fingers digging into his chest, my magic surging into him like a storm breaking its banks.
And then—
The bond roared.
Not with pain. Not with warning.
With unity.
Kael was there—suddenly, impossibly—his arms wrapping around me from behind, his body shielding mine, his blood magic merging with mine, with the storm, with the bond. Our powers didn’t just combine.
They became one.
Fire and lightning. Shadow and storm. Blood and breath.
And in that moment—I wasn’t just Tide.
I was more.
My mother’s voice echoed in my mind—“Break the chain. Not the man.”—and I understood.
This wasn’t about destruction.
It was about creation.
Not of death.
But of truth.
I pushed—hard—and Vexen was thrown back, his body slamming into the far wall with a sickening crack. He didn’t rise immediately. Just lay there, his form flickering, his breath ragged.
“You’re weak,” I said, stepping forward. “You feed on others because you can’t stand on your own. You steal power because you were never given any. You’re not a king. You’re a parasite.”
He laughed—blood bubbling at his lips. “And you? You’re a weapon. A storm. A tool. And tools don’t choose their masters.”
“I choose him,” I said, turning to Kael. “And I choose me.”
Vexen’s eyes narrowed. “Then you’ll die together.”
And then—
He changed.
Not into smoke. Not into shadow.
Into blood.
His body dissolved—literally, horrifyingly—into a swirling vortex of crimson, a living storm of gore and magic that filled the chamber, pulsing with dark energy. The air thickened. The scent of iron and rot clung to my skin. And then—
It attacked.
Not as a man. Not as a monster.
As a curse.
The blood surged—like a tidal wave—aimed straight for us. Kael moved first—Shadow Veil snapping, forming a wall of darkness between us and the oncoming tide. It held—barely—but I could feel it trembling, could feel the strain in Kael’s body, in the bond, in my own magic.
“He’s too strong,” Kael growled, his voice tight. “We can’t hold it.”
“Then we don’t hold it,” I said. “We break it.”
I reached deep—into the storm, into the bond, into the soul of me—and pulled.
Not lightning. Not wind. Not fire.
Everything.
The sky above the Fae High Court split—lightning tearing through the clouds, thunder shaking the earth. The storm answered—not as a force of nature, but as a part of me. As a part of us.
I raised my hands—and the storm answered.
A bolt of pure violet lightning—thicker than a tree, brighter than the sun—slammed into the blood vortex, tearing through it like a blade through flesh. The chamber erupted—stone cracked, dust filled the air, the grimoire was flung across the room again—but the blood shattered.
Not destroyed.
Just… broken.
And from the wreckage—
Vexen.
Not whole. Not unharmed.
But still alive.
His body was torn—limbs twisted, skin burned, blood seeping from a hundred wounds. But his eyes—those red, soulless eyes—still burned with fury.
“You can’t kill me,” he hissed, crawling forward, his voice a wet, gurgling rasp. “I am eternal. I am blood. I am power.”
“No,” I said, stepping forward. “You’re a ghost. A memory. A man who couldn’t love, so he took. Couldn’t lead, so he ruled through fear. Couldn’t live, so he fed on the dead.”
He spat blood. “And you? You’re just like me. You feel it, don’t you? The power. The hunger. The need to consume.”
“No,” I said. “I feel love. I feel truth. I feel freedom. And you’ll never understand that.”
He laughed—a broken, dying sound. “Then kill me. Prove you’re not a monster.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Just reached for the storm.
One final time.
Lightning arced from my hands—not at him, but around him—forming a cage of pure energy, crackling and alive. He screamed—more in rage than pain—as the magic burned through him, unraveling his form, dissolving his power.
And then—
I stepped forward.
Not with hatred.
Not with vengeance.
With pity.
“You could’ve been more,” I whispered, kneeling beside him. “You could’ve loved. You could’ve led. You could’ve been a father. But you chose power. And now—”
“Now I choose nothing,” he snarled.
“No,” I said. “Now you choose peace.”
And then—
I pressed my palm to his chest.
Not to hurt.
Not to kill.
To release.
My magic poured into him—not as a weapon, but as a gift. Not to destroy, but to free. The storm answered, not with violence, but with mercy. And as the lightning flared one final time—brighter than the sun, purer than fire—Vexen’s body dissolved, not into blood, but into light.
Not a curse.
Not a monster.
Just a man.
And then—
He was gone.
The chamber was silent.
Not empty. Not still.
But charged—thick with the aftermath of battle, of magic, of truth. The storm above had calmed. The lightning had ceased. The air was clean, fresh, smelling of rain and ozone.
And I—
I was kneeling on the stone, my hands trembling, my breath ragged.
Alive.
Free.
Whole.
“Tide.”
Kael’s voice—low, rough, filled with something I couldn’t name—pulled me back. He was beside me in an instant, his arms wrapping around me, his body shielding mine, his breath warm against my neck.
“You did it,” he said. “You broke the chain.”
“We did it,” I whispered, leaning into him. “Together.”
He didn’t answer. Just held me—tight, desperate, like he’d never let go. And I didn’t want him to.
The bond hummed between us—not with magic, not with fate, but with something deeper.
Love.
And then—
The ground shook.
Not from the storm.
Not from magic.
From footsteps.
Heavy. Deliberate. Unmistakable.
We turned.
The archway to the archive was filled with figures—Fae. Vampires. Werewolves. All armed. All watching. At the front—High Queen Mirelle, her silver crown gleaming, her eyes sharp as daggers. Behind her—Riven, his amber eyes searching mine, his expression unreadable.
“You’ve done it,” Mirelle said, stepping forward. “You’ve broken the bond. You’ve destroyed Vexen.”
“And freed my mother’s soul,” I said, standing, Kael’s hand still in mine. “And ended his curse.”
“And yet,” she said, her gaze flicking between us, “you stand together. Still bound. Still merged.”
“The bond isn’t broken,” I said. “It’s free. It’s not a chain. It’s a choice.”
She studied me—long, hard, unreadable. Then, finally: “Then prove it.”
“Prove what?” Kael asked, stepping forward.
“That you’re not a threat,” she said. “That this bond—this power—won’t destroy the balance. That you won’t become the very thing you’ve destroyed.”
I didn’t hesitate.
Just stepped forward, my storm-gray eyes locking onto hers. “Then ask yourself this: if we were a threat, if we wanted power, if we wanted war—why would we have destroyed the contract? Why would we have freed my mother’s soul? Why would we have spared Lyra?”
She didn’t answer.
Just stared at me—her expression shifting, just for a moment, from cold calculation to something softer.
Respect.
And then—
She nodded.
“The bond is recognized,” she said. “The threat is ended. The balance is restored.”
“And the war?” Riven asked, stepping forward.
“The war is over,” Mirelle said. “The Supernal Accord stands. The Fae High Court remains.”
“And us?” I asked.
She looked at me—then at Kael—then back at me. “You are free. You are recognized. You are seen.”
And then—
She turned and left.
The others followed—Fae, vampires, werewolves—until only Riven remained.
He didn’t speak. Just stepped forward, his amber eyes searching mine.
And then—
He nodded.
Not in approval.
In farewell.
“You did it,” he said, voice low. “You broke the chain.”
“And found something else,” I said.
He didn’t flinch. Just reached into his coat and pulled out the silver locket—the one he’d given me. “I found this,” he said. “After you left. It was in your room. I think… I think it wants to be with you.”
I took it—my fingers trembling as I traced the Northern runes. “Thank you,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer. Just turned and walked away.
And I didn’t call him back.
Because I knew—
Some goodbyes don’t need words.
Back in the suite, the door clicked shut behind us, and I didn’t wait.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I said, turning to Kael. “You didn’t have to fight him. You could’ve let me face him alone.”
“And let you carry the weight?” he asked, stepping closer. “No. You’re not alone anymore, Tide. You never were.”
“And if I’d failed?”
“Then I’d have died with you,” he said. “But I knew you wouldn’t.”
“And if I’d wanted to kill him?”
“Then I’d have stopped you,” he said. “Because you’re not a killer. Not like that. Not when it’s not necessary.”
My breath caught.
Not from anger.
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’re not what I expected,” I said, voice hoarse.
“Neither are you,” he said.
And then—
I kissed him.
Not like before. Not angry. Not desperate.
Soft.
Slow.
Real.
His lips were cool, but the kiss was fire. His hands slid to my waist, pulling me closer, his body pressing against mine. The bond roared to life, a tidal wave of sensation—her voice, her magic, her love, flooding through us like a river breaking its banks.
And for the first time, I didn’t fight it.
For the first time, I didn’t run.
For the first time, I let myself believe—
That maybe, just maybe, I hadn’t come here to destroy him.
Maybe I’d come here to save him.
And in saving him… save myself.
He pulled back, his thumb brushing my cheek. “We did it,” he said. “We broke the chain.”
“And found something else,” I whispered.
He didn’t answer.
Just pulled me into his arms, his body shielding mine, his breath warm against my neck. The bond hummed—warm, deep, alive—not with magic, not with fate, but with something deeper.
Love.
And as the first light of dawn broke through the drapes, painting the room in gold and shadow, I knew—
The mission had changed.
The enemy was gone.
And I was free.
And that was the most beautiful thing of all.