The silence after the library door locked was worse than any roar.
Not because Garnet and I were trapped—though we were, sealed in by Fae magic so sharp it stung the air like ozone. Not because Selene’s mocking voice had slithered through the wood, dripping with implication. Not even because the bond between us had flared to life, a wildfire racing through my veins, burning away every lie, every denial, every wall we’d built between us.
No.
The silence was worse because of what it meant.
She hadn’t just locked us in.
She’d exposed us.
And now, the fortress would know. The pack would know. The Council would know. That we’d been caught—alone, in the dead of night, in the restricted archives, bodies pressed too close, breaths tangled, desire spiking like a war cry.
And Selene?
She’d twist it. She’d paint it as proof of my weakness. Of Garnet’s instability. Of our bond as nothing more than lust, not love. Not choice. Not truth.
I turned from the door, my jaw clenched, my claws retracted but ready. Garnet stood at the far shelf, her back to me, her fingers brushing the spine of a book like she was searching for salvation in ink and parchment. Her scent—spiced fire, wild thyme—was thick in the air, spiked with arousal, with fear, with something dangerously close to need.
She didn’t look at me.
“She’ll use this,” I said, voice low. “To turn the pack against you. To make the Council question the bond.”
She turned then, her violet eyes sharp, her expression unreadable. “Then we give them the truth.”
“And what truth is that?” I asked. “That we were caught half-undressed in the archives? That you were grinding against me like you couldn’t get enough?”
Her breath hitched. “That we were searching for the blood pact. That you were trying to protect it. That I was trying to understand it.”
“And the rest?” I stepped closer. “The kiss? The way your body arched into mine? The way you whispered, *‘Gods, I want you’* like it was a confession?”
She didn’t flinch. “That’s not for them. That’s for us.”
My chest tightened.
She was right.
But the world wouldn’t see it that way.
They’d see a hybrid witch, cursed, unstable, driven by blood and heat. They’d see an Alpha who couldn’t control himself, who’d let desire cloud his judgment. They’d see weakness. Chaos. A bond on the verge of collapse.
And Selene would feed it.
“We need to get out of here,” I said, turning back to the door. I pressed my palm against the wood, testing the magic. Strong. Fae-woven. Unnatural. “This won’t break easily.”
“Then we wait,” Garnet said. “Or we fight.”
“Fight what?” I asked. “The door? The magic? Or her?”
“All of it,” she said, stepping forward. “Because if we don’t, she wins. And I’m done letting her win.”
I looked at her—really looked at her.
And for the first time since she’d walked into the Moonfire Hall, I didn’t see a threat.
I didn’t see a weapon.
I saw a queen.
Proud. Fierce. Unbreakable.
And she was mine.
Before I could respond, the magic cracked.
Not the door—no, the seal held. But the bond between us—usually a live wire of tension, desire, denial—flared, not with heat, but with warning. A pulse. A shift. Like something had changed.
And then the door burst open.
Riven stood in the threshold, his dark eyes sharp, his stance rigid. Behind him, two Sentinels flanked a figure in crimson velvet—Selene. Her hair was coiled like a serpent, her lips painted the same shade as her dress, her smile slow, knowing.
“Well, well,” she purred, stepping forward. “What do we have here? The Alpha and his little hybrid, caught in the act?”
Garnet didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just stood there, spine straight, eyes burning.
I stepped between them, my body a wall. “You have no right to be here.”
“Oh, but I do,” she said, tilting her head. “Because I’ve just received a formal complaint. From the Fae High Court. They’re demanding a Council hearing. For *assault*.”
My blood turned to ice.
“Assault?” I said. “On who?”
“On me,” she said, stepping closer. “Your precious Garnet attacked me earlier tonight. Clawed at my face. Tried to rip my throat out. All because she thought I’d been in your bed.”
“That’s a lie,” Garnet said, voice low.
“Is it?” Selene asked, turning to her. “Then why do I have the scratches to prove it?”
She pulled back the collar of her dress, revealing three thin, bloody lines across her collarbone. Fake. I could smell it—the faint tang of glamour, the sweetness of synthetic venom. But to the untrained eye? It looked real.
“You did that to yourself,” I said.
“And who will believe you?” she asked, smiling. “A hybrid witch with a cursed bloodline? A woman who came here to kill you? Of course she’d lash out. Of course she’d be unstable. The bond is breaking her. Everyone can see it.”
My claws extended.
“You’re lying,” I growled. “And if you don’t retract this accusation—”
“Or what?” she asked, stepping even closer. “You’ll kill me? In front of witnesses? That would be… unfortunate. For your alliance with the Crimson Court.”
I didn’t answer.
Because she was right.
She’d backed us into a corner. If I fought, I risked war. If I didn’t, Garnet would be branded a monster.
And she knew it.
“The Council convenes at dawn,” she said, turning to leave. “I suggest you prepare your defense. Though I doubt it will matter.”
She walked away, her footsteps echoing down the hall.
The Sentinels followed.
Riven stayed.
“She’s setting a trap,” he said quietly. “Trying to make you look weak. Trying to make her look like the victim.”
“And she’s succeeding,” I said, turning to Garnet.
She was pale. Her hands trembled. But her eyes—those violet firestorms—were steady.
“I didn’t attack her,” she said. “I haven’t seen her since the Council hearing.”
“I know,” I said. “But they won’t.”
“Then we prove it,” she said. “Like we did last time. We show them the bond. We show them the truth.”
“And if they say no?” I asked. “If they refuse another public verification?”
She didn’t hesitate. “Then we give them something else. A witness. A timeline. A reason why she’d lie.”
I studied her. “And what reason is that?”
“Jealousy,” she said. “She wants you. She’s always wanted you. And she’ll do anything to have you.”
“And if they say it’s just her word against yours?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Then we remind them of the dream. Of the fake bite. Of how she used Fae magic to make me believe you’d betrayed me.”
My breath caught.
She was right.
Selene had already been caught once. If she tried it again, the Council might finally see her for what she was.
“But you’ll have to face her,” I said. “In front of everyone. You’ll have to look her in the eye and call her a liar.”
“I already have,” she said. “And I’ll do it again.”
I didn’t speak.
Because in that moment, I saw it—the shift. Not just in her stance, not just in her voice, but in the bond. It wasn’t just desire anymore. It wasn’t just survival.
It was trust.
She believed in me.
And I would die before I let her down.
The Council chamber beneath Edinburgh Castle was colder than I remembered. The floating orbs of blue flame cast long shadows across the black stone, the air thick with the weight of ancient oaths and blood-deep rivalries. Around the central dais sat the leaders of the major factions—Vampire Lords in crimson silk, Fae nobles wreathed in glamour, werewolf Alphas in leather and steel, witches in flowing robes etched with sigils.
Selene stood at the front, dressed in blood-red velvet, her hair coiled like a serpent, her lips painted the same shade as her dress. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t look at Garnet. Just smiled, slow and knowing, as the Elder Vampire Lord rose to speak.
“The Crimson Court brings formal accusation,” he intoned. “Garnet Hollow, hybrid witch of the Hollow Bloodline, did assault Lady Selene of the Crimson Court in a fit of jealous rage. We demand justice.”
Gasps rippled through the chamber.
Garnet stepped forward, her spine straight, her voice steady. “I did not attack her. I was in the library with Kaelen, searching for the original blood pact. We were locked in by Fae magic. I never left the fortress. I never saw her.”
“Lies,” Selene purred. “She ambushed me in the east wing. Called me a whore. Said I’d stolen what was hers.”
“And where are the guards who saw this?” I asked, stepping beside Garnet. “Where are the witnesses? If she was attacked in the east wing, someone would have heard.”
“The corridors were empty,” Selene said. “It was late. No one was there.”
“Convenient,” I said. “For someone who can manipulate shadows. Who can weave illusions. Who can make people see what isn’t there.”
The Fae Queen arched a brow. “Are you accusing Lady Selene of using glamour?”
“I’m stating facts,” I said. “She used Fae magic to simulate a claiming on Garnet. She left a false bite mark. She made her believe I’d betrayed her.”
“And you have proof of this?” the Elder Witch asked.
“Dr. Elias Vale examined the mark,” I said. “He confirmed it was synthetic. A blend of Fae and vampire magic. Designed to provoke, not bind.”
“And this doctor?” the Southern Alpha growled. “Why should we trust a human?”
“Because he’s the only one who’s treated hybrid physiology for decades,” Garnet said. “And because I have something better than his word.”
She stepped forward, pulling a small silver mirror from her cloak—the Fae truth mirror from the armory. “This is a truth mirror. Used to expose illusions. To show what is real.”
She held it up, turning it toward Selene.
And for a heartbeat, nothing happened.
Then—
A flicker.
Just at the edge of the mirror’s surface. A shadow. A shape. A face.
Selene’s.
Not in the mirror. But on it. Like a film over the surface, like a veil between reality and lie.
Gasps echoed through the chamber.
“You see?” Garnet said. “She’s still using glamour. She’s still in my mind. She’s still trying to break us.”
Selene’s smile faltered.
“And the scratches?” the Elder Vampire Lord asked.
“Glamour,” I said. “Just like the bite. Just like the dream. She’s been manipulating the bond from the start.”
The Council exchanged glances.
Then, after a long silence, the Fae Queen spoke. “If the truth mirror confirms deception, the accusation is dismissed. But if it shows nothing—”
“Then I accept exile,” Selene said, stepping forward. “But only if Garnet submits to the same test. If her mind is clean, if she’s not lying—then I’ll go.”
Garnet didn’t hesitate.
She turned the mirror toward herself.
And for a long moment, nothing.
Then—
A flicker.
But not Selene.
Something darker. Older. A shadow with silver hair and hollow eyes.
The Hollow Witch.
My breath caught.
Garnet’s too.
“That’s not me,” she whispered. “That’s my grandmother. She’s—”
“—alive,” I finished. “And she’s been watching.”
The chamber erupted.
Selene’s smile returned. “So the hybrid is possessed by her own grandmother. How convenient.”
“No,” Garnet said, voice rising. “She’s not possessing me. She’s *warning* me. She’s the one who created the curse. And she’s the one who knows how to break it.”
“And you expect us to believe that?” the Southern Alpha sneered.
“No,” I said. “I expect you to see the truth.”
I stepped forward, holding out my wrist, the sigil glowing faintly. “Test the bond. Again. Unfiltered. No dampeners. No illusions. Let us prove what’s between us isn’t lies. It’s truth.”
The Council hesitated.
Then, slowly, the Elder Witch nodded. “Proceed. But if either of you collapses, the test ends.”
Garnet looked at me. “You don’t have to do this.”
“Yes, I do,” I said. “Because you’re not a weapon. You’re not a pawn. You’re not a curse. You’re mine. And I’m going to make sure everyone sees it.”
The High Witch stepped forward. “Place your hands on each other. Palms flat. Skin to skin.”
We did.
My palm met hers.
Fire exploded.
Not pain. Not denial. Not the jagged edge of resistance.
Truth.
The bond roared to life, a wildfire racing through my veins, burning away every lie, every fear, every wall we’d built between us. I could feel her—her relief, her shame, her love—pouring into me like a river. And I gave it back. My need. My hunger. My vow to protect her, to cherish her, to claim her when she was ready.
The chamber gasped.
The bond flared brighter, the sigils on our wrists glowing like embers, the air humming with power. Garnet’s breath hitched. Her fingers dug into my shoulders. Her scent—spiced fire, wild thyme—flooded me, rich and sweet with arousal.
And then she did it.
She leaned in—and kissed me.
Not a claim. Not a surrender.
Affirmation.Her lips met mine, soft at first, then deeper, hungrier, as if she was reclaiming what had been stolen from her. I kissed her back, my hand tangling in her hair, my body pulling her against me. The bond screamed, not with pain, but with triumph. With completion.
When we broke apart, the chamber was silent.
The High Witch stepped forward, her voice trembling. “The bond is pure. Unbroken. And… complete. Whatever was done to her, it did not sever the truth between them.”
Selene’s smile vanished.
“The accusation is dismissed,” the Elder Vampire Lord said. “Garnet Hollow is cleared of all charges.”
“And Selene?” I asked.
“She will be monitored,” the Fae Queen said. “Any further attempts to manipulate the bond will result in exile.”
Selene didn’t argue. Just smiled, slow and cold, as she turned and walked away.
But I didn’t care.
Because Garnet was looking at me—really looking at me—and in her eyes, I saw it.
Not doubt.
Not fear.
Trust.
We returned to the fortress in silence, the bond humming between us, warm and steady. When we reached her chamber, she didn’t turn away. Didn’t lock the door. Just stepped inside—and held out her hand.
“Stay,” she said.
I didn’t hesitate.
I crossed the threshold, closed the door, and pulled her into my arms. She didn’t resist. Just buried her face in my neck, her breath warm against my skin.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “For doubting you. For thinking the worst.”
“You were hurt,” I said. “And she used that. But you fought back. You found the truth. And you stood in front of the Council and claimed me.”
She looked up. “I did.”
“Then let me do the same,” I said.
And I kissed her—slow, deep, a vow sealed in breath and heat. The bond flared, not with need, but with something deeper.
Belonging.
She was mine.
And I was hers.
Not because of magic.
Not because of blood.
But because, at last, we had chosen each other.
And no lie could ever break that.