The bond screamed.
Not in words. Not in sound. But in raw, pulsing agony—a white-hot spike driven through my chest, so sharp I dropped to one knee in the damp moss, my blades clattering against the stone. The world narrowed to a single point: *Kael.* Trapped. Hurt. Dying.
“No,” I gasped, pressing a hand to the sigil beneath my collarbone. It flared gold, searing through the fabric, burning like a brand. “Not now. Not *him.*”
Dain was at my side in an instant, his wolf-gold eyes wide, his scent sharp with alarm. “Parker—”
“He’s alive,” I snapped, pushing myself up, my muscles trembling. “But not for long.”
Behind me, Lira stood frozen, her red eyes reflecting the dim light. “We can’t just charge in. It’s a trap.”
“It already *is* a trap,” I growled, retrieving my blades, my fingers curling around the hilts until my knuckles whitened. “And he’s in it. Alone.”
“You don’t even know where he is,” she said, voice trembling. “You’ll die trying to save him.”
“Then I die.” I turned to her, my storm-gray eyes locking onto hers. “But I won’t let him rot in Ravel’s dungeon while I stand here debating.”
Dain stepped forward, blocking my path. “I’ll go with you.”
“No.” I shook my head. “You guard the perimeter. If Ravel’s calling the packs, we’ll need someone to hold them off. Lira—” I turned to her. “You stay with him. Keep him alive if things go south.”
“And if you don’t come back?” she asked, voice quiet.
I didn’t answer.
Just turned and ran.
The ruins of Ravel’s compound loomed ahead, its broken spires clawing at the bruised sky like skeletal fingers. The wind howled through the shattered arches, carrying the scent of blood and old magic. My boots crunched over frost-covered stone, my breath coming in sharp bursts, my magic flaring in my palms—crimson light spiraling like a living thing.
I didn’t care about stealth.
I didn’t care about traps.
I cared about *him.*
The bond pulsed beneath my skin, a frantic rhythm, a lifeline pulling me forward. I followed it like a compass, cutting through shadowed corridors, leaping over collapsed beams, my blades flashing as I took down two rogues who lunged from the dark. They were fast. Strong. But they weren’t *him.* And they weren’t standing between me and Kael.
I didn’t stop to finish them.
Just kept moving.
Deeper.
Down.
The air grew colder the farther I descended, the scent of damp earth replaced by the stench of decay, of iron, of *fear.* The walls narrowed, the torches flickered with blue flame, and the wards hummed—a low, discordant thrum that made my teeth ache.
And then—
—I saw it.
A cell. Iron bars. Stone walls.
And inside—
Kael.
He was on his knees, his head bowed, his coat gone, his arms bound behind him with silver wire that burned into his skin. His breathing was shallow, ragged. Blood streaked his temple, his lip, his shoulder. But his eyes—gold-flecked, wolf-bright—lifted the second I stepped into the corridor.
“Parker,” he rasped, voice raw. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“Shut up,” I snapped, rushing forward, my blades flashing as I severed the lock on the cell door. It crashed open, and I was inside, dropping to my knees beside him, my fingers already working at the silver bindings. “You think I’d let you die in some filthy dungeon while I waited for backup?”
“You’re reckless,” he said, but there was no anger in it. Only exhaustion. Relief.
“And you’re *mine,*” I said, yanking the wire free. He hissed as it tore from his skin, but I didn’t stop. Just pressed my palm to his chest, letting my magic flow—crimson light spiraling, healing, *claiming.* “And I don’t share.”
His breath caught. “You shouldn’t have—”
“I should’ve come faster.” I pulled him into a fierce embrace, my arms tight around his back, my face buried in his neck. His scent—smoke, frost, storm—filled my lungs. He was alive. Warm. *Here.* “I felt it. The bond. It was screaming. I thought—”
“I know,” he murmured, his arms tightening around me. “I felt you too. Coming. Fighting. *Living.*”
I pulled back, my hands framing his face. “Can you walk?”
He nodded, but when he tried to stand, his legs buckled. I caught him, slinging his arm over my shoulder, my body braced against his weight.
“You’re hurt,” I said, voice tight.
“It’s nothing.”
“Liar.” I started moving, half-dragging, half-carrying him down the corridor. “You’re bleeding. Your magic’s drained. And you reek of dark magic.”
“I’ll live.”
“You’d better.” I tightened my grip. “Because I’m not done with you.”
We made it halfway before the first wave hit.
Five rogues—vampire and werewolf hybrids, their eyes red, their fangs bared, their claws extended. They came from the shadows, fast and brutal, blades flashing, magic crackling in the air.
I didn’t hesitate.
I dropped Kael to the ground, spun, and met them head-on.
My blades sang—crimson magic flaring with every strike. I moved like a storm given form, fast, brutal, relentless. One rogue lunged, and I sliced through his thigh, sending him crashing to the stone. Another came from behind, and I twisted, driving my elbow into his throat, then spinning to decapitate a third with a clean arc of steel.
But there were too many.
And I was protecting Kael.
A blade grazed my side, slicing through fabric and skin. Pain flared, hot and sharp, but I didn’t stop. Just kicked the attacker in the chest, sending him flying into the wall, then turned to face the last two.
They came at me together.
I braced—
—and the bond *roared.*
Not from me.
From *him.*
Kael surged to his feet, his gold-flecked eyes blazing, his fangs elongated, his claws tearing free of their sheaths. He moved like a predator, fast and silent, taking down one rogue with a single slash across the throat, then lunging at the other, his fangs sinking into the man’s neck.
It was over in seconds.
And then—
—he was at my side, his hand pressing against the wound on my side, his breath hot on my neck. “You’re hurt.”
“It’s nothing,” I said, echoing his words.
“Liar.” He tore a strip from his tunic and pressed it to the cut. “Hold still.”
“We don’t have time.”
“Then move faster.” He slung his arm over my shoulder again, and we started forward.
But the compound wasn’t done with us.
The deeper we went, the more the wards flared—dark sigils etched into the stone, pulsing with cruel magic. They pulled at the bond, at our power, at our *souls.* I could feel it—Kael’s breath growing shallower, his steps slower, his weight heavier on my shoulder.
And then—
—the chains.
They erupted from the walls—silver, glowing with anti-magic runes, designed to bind hybrids. One wrapped around Kael’s ankle, yanking him off his feet. Another lashed toward me, but I dodged, slicing it in half with my blade.
“Go,” Kael snarled, struggling against the bindings. “Leave me.”
“Not happening.” I turned, my magic flaring, and severed the chain with a burst of crimson fire. “You don’t get to die on me. Not after everything.”
“Parker—”
“Shut up and walk.” I pulled him up, my arm tight around his waist. “We’re getting out of here. Together.”
We reached the courtyard just as the sky split open.
Rain poured down, thick and heavy, turning the stone to slick ice. The wind howled, carrying the scent of lightning and blood. And in the center of it all—
Ravel.
He stood beneath a crumbling arch, his crimson robes swirling, his red eyes gleaming with triumph. Around him, a dozen rogues fanned out, blades drawn, magic crackling in their palms.
“You’re too late,” he said, voice cutting through the storm. “The bond is already fractured. The Council will fall. And you—” His gaze locked onto me. “—will die like your mother.”
My blood ran cold.
But I didn’t flinch.
Just stepped forward, caging Kael behind me, my blades raised. “You don’t get to speak her name.”
“Why not?” He smiled, slow and venomous. “She died screaming. Just like you will.”
“No.” Kael stepped beside me, his body pressing into mine, his fangs bared. “She’ll burn you first.”
Ravel laughed. “And how? You’re weakened. She’s bleeding. And the bond—” He raised a hand, and the wards flared—dark magic surging through the air. “—is *mine* to break.”
The bond *screamed.*
Kael staggered, his hand flying to his chest. I felt it too—a tearing sensation, like something inside me was being ripped apart. My knees buckled, but I didn’t fall. Just gritted my teeth and stood.
“You think you can sever it?” I spat, blood on my lips. “You think you can destroy what fate forged?”
“Fate?” He sneered. “There is no fate. Only power. And I have more than you.”
“No.” I stepped forward, my blades flashing. “You have *nothing.* No loyalty. No love. No truth. Just lies. Just blood. Just *weakness.*”
“Then prove it.” He raised his hand. “Kill her.”
The rogues lunged.
I met them head-on.
Blades clashed. Magic flared. Blood spilled—mine, theirs, *his.* I fought like a woman possessed, like vengeance incarnate, like a queen reclaiming her throne. I cut through them—fast, brutal, relentless. One fell. Then another. Then another.
But there were too many.
And Kael was still weak.
A rogue got past me, blade aimed at his throat—
—and I threw myself in front of it.
The blade sank into my shoulder, hot and deep. I screamed, but didn’t fall. Just twisted, driving my own blade into the man’s gut, then kicking him away.
“Parker!” Kael roared.
“I’m fine,” I gasped, yanking the blade free. Blood poured down my arm, but I didn’t stop. Just turned to face the last few rogues.
And then—
—the bond *ignited.*
Not from pain.
Not from magic.
From *love.*
Kael surged forward, his body slamming into mine, his arms wrapping around me, his fangs grazing my neck—not to claim, not to mark—but to *protect.*
And the bond—
It *roared.*
Gold and crimson spiraled around us, binding us, *claiming* us. The sigils on our skin flared—twin marks, twin souls, twin power. The wards shattered. The rogues screamed. The ground cracked beneath us.
And then—
—Ravel.
He stood frozen, his red eyes wide, his mouth open in a silent scream.
“No,” he whispered. “It’s not possible.”
“It’s not about power,” I said, stepping forward, my voice low, dangerous. “It’s about *truth.* And you’ve never known it.”
I raised my blade.
But Kael stopped me.
His hand closed over mine, his gold-flecked eyes locking onto mine. “Not like this.”
“He deserves it.”
“And you don’t.” He pulled me into a fierce embrace, his mouth on my neck, his fangs grazing my skin. “You’re not a killer. You’re a queen.”
I didn’t argue.
Just let him hold me, my body trembling, my breath coming in ragged gasps, my blood soaking into his tunic.
And then—
—Dain and Lira burst into the courtyard.
“We held them off,” Dain said, his chest heaving. “The packs are retreating.”
Lira’s gaze fell on Ravel, bound now by silver chains, his crimson robes torn, his face pale. “What do we do with him?”
“Exile,” Kael said, voice cold. “Let the wilds decide his fate.”
“And the Council?” Dain asked.
“We return,” I said, stepping back, my hand still in Kael’s. “And we burn the lies to the ground.”
Kael looked at me, his eyes searching mine. “You’re hurt.”
“I’ll live.”
“Liar.” He pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm on my skin. “You’re coming with me. No arguments.”
I didn’t argue.
Just leaned into him, my body softening, my breath steadying, my heart finally, *finally* at peace.
The storm raged on.
But we were already home.