The fever returned at midnight.
Not with a whisper. Not with a warning. But with a scream—deep in my marrow, in my blood, in the very core of me. One moment, I was lying beside Kaelen in the war room, reviewing battle plans by firelight, my head resting on his shoulder, his fingers tracing the sigil on my wrist. The next, I was on my knees, gasping, my body arched like a bowstring, my skin burning from the inside out.
“Garnet,” Kaelen said, his voice sharp, his hands on my arms. “Look at me.”
I couldn’t. My vision was white. My magic was a storm, spiraling out of control, lightning crackling at my fingertips, fire licking up my spine. The bond roared to life, not with denial, not with resistance, but with need. A primal, unrelenting demand. It pulsed through me, hot and insistent, a drumbeat of hunger that drowned out thought, reason, fear.
“The serum,” I gasped. “It’s not working.”
“It’s wearing off,” Kaelen said, his voice low, controlled. He scooped me into his arms, his body a wall of heat and strength. “Riven. Lock down the chamber. No one enters.”
“And the guards?” Riven asked, already moving.
“Kill anyone who tries to breach the door,” Kaelen said. “Understood?”
“Understood,” Riven said, his voice grim.
Kaelen carried me to my chamber, his strides long, his grip unyielding. The fortress was silent, the torches flickering, the air thick with the scent of ozone and something darker—my arousal, spiced with fire and wild thyme, flooding the halls. I could feel it—my scent spreading, calling, claiming. And I knew—
They would come.
The males. The wolves. The predators who would smell my heat, who would feel the pull of my magic, who would come to take what I belonged to.
And Kaelen would kill them.
He laid me on the bed, his hands gentle despite the tension in his body. My tunic was already soaked through with sweat, my boots still laced tight, my fangs aching. The sigil on my wrist flared—hot, insistent—spreading up my arm, across my chest, down my spine. The fever was different this time. Not just pain. Not just denial. But hunger. A need so deep it felt like a wound. My core throbbed. My breath came in shallow gasps. My body arched, seeking friction, seeking release.
“I can’t,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “I can’t do this again.”
“You don’t have to,” he said, pressing his palm to my forehead. His touch was cool, grounding. “I’m here. I’ll hold you. I’ll remind you who you are.”
“And if you lose control?” I asked, my eyes locking onto his. “If the bond takes you? If you take me?”
He didn’t flinch. Just held my gaze, his gold eyes burning. “Then you’ll make me ask.”
Tears burned my eyes.
Because he believed it.
Not because he was weak. Not because he was afraid.
But because he trusted me.
And gods, I loved him for it.
“Stay with me,” I said, reaching for him. “Don’t leave. Don’t lock yourself away. I need you.”
He didn’t answer.
Just stripped off his tunic, revealing the hard planes of his chest, the scars that mapped his past, the power in his arms. He climbed onto the bed, pulling me into his lap, my back against his chest, his arms wrapped around me like chains. His scent—storm and iron—wrapped around me, rich and deep, masking my own. The bond pulsed between us, not with denial, but with something deeper.
Protection.
“Breathe,” he murmured, his lips brushing my temple. “With me. In. Out. Slow.”
I tried. But the fever was too strong. My magic flared, fire spiraling up my arms, my skin glowing garnet-red. The torches flickered. The stone trembled. The air crackled with power.
“Kaelen,” I gasped, my body arching into his. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he said, his voice rough, commanding. “You’re stronger than this. You’re an Alpha. You’re my mate. And you’re not going to let a fever break you.”
His words grounded me. Just for a moment. Just enough to breathe. To feel. To remember.
But then—
A knock at the door.
Not hard. Not urgent.
But precise.
Selene.
“Open the door, Kaelen,” her voice purred through the wood. “Let me help her. I’ve seen this before. I know how to ease the pain.”
My fangs lengthened. My claws extended. Fire erupted from my palms.
“She’s not alone,” Kaelen growled, his body tensing. “And she doesn’t need your help.”
“But she will,” Selene said. “When the fever spikes, when the scent spreads, when the males come—she’ll beg for relief. And you won’t be able to give it to her. Not without claiming her. Not without breaking your precious vow.”
“Get out,” Kaelen snarled. “Or I’ll rip your throat out myself.”
She laughed—low, cruel, triumphant. “You won’t. Because you’re too afraid of what you are. Too afraid of what you’ll do. But I’m not. And when she’s screaming for release, when she’s begging for a cock in her cunt, I’ll be there to give it to her.”
Fire exploded.
Not at the door. Not at her.
But at the ceiling.
The torches shattered, their flames spiraling into the air like comets. The stone cracked. The sigils on the walls flared, glowing silver, humming with ancient power. I screamed—raw, broken—as the fever spiked, hotter, darker, more desperate than before. My core ached. My skin burned. My magic pulsed, not with denial, but with need.
“Garnet,” Kaelen said, his voice low, urgent. “Look at me.”
I couldn’t. My vision was red. My body was on fire. My fangs ached. My claws dug into his arms, drawing blood. I could smell it—his scent, rich and male, wrapping around me, calling to me, claiming me.
And I wanted it.
Not just his touch. Not just his strength.
His cock. His fangs. His claim.
“Touch me,” I begged, my voice breaking. “Please. I can’t— I can’t do this alone.”
He didn’t move. Just held me, his grip tight, his body shielding me from the world. “You’re not alone. I’m here. I’ll hold you. I’ll remind you who you are.”
“But I don’t want to be reminded,” I said, my body arching into his. “I want to be taken. I want to be claimed. I want to be yours.”
His breath hitched.
His cock hardened, thick and heavy against my back. His scent spiked—storm and iron, rich and dark. He wanted it too. I could feel it. The way his body trembled. The way his hands tightened on my waist. The way his fangs grazed my neck, just enough to sting, not enough to mark.
And gods, I wanted him to.
“You said you’d wait,” I whispered, turning my head, my lips brushing his jaw. “That you’d let me choose you. Every time.”
“I did,” he said, his voice rough. “And I will.”
“Then choose me now,” I said, pressing back against him, my ass grinding against his cock. “Not because the bond demands it. Not because the fever is killing me. But because you want me. Because you love me.”
He didn’t speak.
Just reached around me, his hand sliding up my stomach, over my ribs, to the edge of my tunic. His fingers trembled—just once—as he pulled it over my head, revealing my bare skin, my breasts heavy, my nipples tight with need. The sigil on my chest glowed, warm and bright, a brand of fire and thorn.
“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, his lips brushing my shoulder. “So fucking beautiful.”
Fire erupted from my palms, spiraling up my arms, searing through my veins. I arched into him, my breath ragged, my body trembling. “Touch me. Please. I need you.”
His hand slid lower, over my hip, down my thigh, then back up, beneath the waistband of my pants. His fingers brushed my clit—just once—and I screamed, my body convulsing, my magic flaring, not with denial, but with completion. The sigils on my skin glowed like embers, the air humming with power. I could feel him—his need, his hunger, his vow to protect me, to cherish me, to claim me when I was ready.
And I was.
“Kaelen,” I gasped, my body arching, my hips grinding against his hand. “I’m ready. I want you. I choose you. Every time.”
He didn’t answer.
Just pulled me onto my back, his body covering mine, his gold eyes burning into mine. His fangs were bared. His claws extended. His cock was thick and hard against my thigh. He looked like a man on the edge of control, a beast fighting its cage.
And I loved him for it.
“Say it,” he growled, his voice rough, strained. “Say you’re mine. Not because of magic. Not because of blood. Because you choose to be.”
“I’m yours,” I whispered, my hands rising to his face, my fingers tracing his jaw. “Not because of the bond. Not because of the curse. Because I want to be. Because I love you.”
He stilled.
And then—
He kissed me.
Not gentle. Not tentative.
Claiming.His lips met mine, hot and demanding, his tongue sliding against my lips, forcing them open. I moaned—deep, broken—my body arching into his, my hands clutching his shoulders. The bond roared to life, a wildfire racing through my veins, burning away every lie, every fear, every wall we’d built between us.
But it wasn’t just a kiss.
It was a transfer.
My power flowed into him—storm and fire, lightning and heat, the raw, unfiltered truth of what I was. And his into me—strength and control, dominance and surrender, the quiet, steady weight of a man who had waited for me.
The chamber trembled. The torches exploded. The stone cracked. The sigils flared, glowing silver, humming with ancient power.
And then—
He tore off my pants.
Not with magic. Not with fire.
With his teeth.
The fabric shredded, falling away, revealing my bare skin, my core slick with need, my scent flooding the air. He growled—low, rough—his eyes darkening, his body tensing. He was close. So close. And I wanted him to break.
“Touch me,” I begged, spreading my legs, my hips lifting. “Please. I need you inside me.”
He didn’t hesitate.
He pressed his cock to my entrance—thick, hot, pulsing—and pushed.
Just the tip.
And then—
He stopped.
“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice rough, strained. “This is it. No turning back. Once I’m inside you, once I claim you—”
“—I’m yours,” I finished, my hands rising to his chest, my fingers brushing the old scar across his heart. “And you’re mine. And I don’t want to wait. I don’t want to fight. I just want you. So please—take me.”
He didn’t speak.
Just thrust.
Deep. Hard. Complete.
I screamed—raw, broken—as he filled me, stretched me, claimed me. My magic flared, not with denial, but with completion. The sigils on my skin glowed like embers, the air humming with power. I could feel him—his need, his hunger, his vow to protect me, to cherish me, to claim me when I was ready.
And I was.
He didn’t move at first. Just held me, his body buried deep, his breath ragged, his fangs grazing my neck. And then—
He began to move.
Slow. Deep. Devastating.
Each thrust sent a jolt of pleasure through me, white-hot, all-consuming. My body arched, my back bowing, my nails digging into his shoulders. The bond flared, not with denial, but with truth. I could feel it—his love, his need, his surrender. And I gave it back. My relief, my shame, my love—pouring into him like a river.
“Kaelen,” I gasped, my body tightening around him. “I’m close. I can’t—”
“Then come,” he growled, his thrusts growing faster, harder. “Come for me. Let me feel you. Let me know you’re mine.”
I didn’t fight it.
Just let go.
My body convulsed, my scream echoing off the stone as pleasure—white-hot, all-consuming—ripped through me. My magic flared, not with denial, but with completion. The sigils on my skin glowed like embers, the air humming with power. I could feel him—his need, his hunger, his vow to protect me, to cherish me, to claim me when I was ready.
And I was.
He followed me over the edge, his body tensing, his cock pulsing inside me, his roar echoing through the chamber. He didn’t pull out. Didn’t stop. Just held me, his body buried deep, his breath hot against my neck.
And then—
He did it.
He leaned down—and bit me.
Not on the neck. Not on the shoulder.
On the sigil over my heart.
His fangs pierced the brand of fire and thorn, sealing it with his blood, his claim, his love. I screamed—raw, broken—not from pain, but from completion. The bond flared, not with denial, but with truth. I could feel it—his love, his need, his surrender. And I gave it back. My relief, my shame, my love—pouring into him like a river.
When he pulled back, his eyes were gold, fierce, unrelenting. “You’re mine,” he growled. “Not because of magic. Not because of blood. Because you chose to be.”
“I did,” I whispered, my hands rising to his face, my fingers tracing his jaw. “And I’ll choose you. Every time.”
He didn’t smile.
Just pulled me into his arms, holding me like I was something fragile, something precious. I didn’t fight. Didn’t pull away. Just buried my face in his neck, my breath warm against his skin.
And for the first time since I’d walked into this fortress, I let myself believe it.
That I wasn’t here to destroy him.
I was here to save him.
From her.
From the lie.
From me.
And maybe—just maybe—I was saving myself too.
The chamber was silent now, the fire crackling, the bond humming between us, warm and steady. The fever had broken. The heat had passed. And the curse—
It was still there.
But it was weaker.
And I knew—
We were closer to breaking it than ever before.
Because the bond wasn’t a curse.
It was a vow.
And we had just sealed it in blood, breath, and fire.
And no lie could ever break that.