The serum burned like liquid night.
Not fire. Not pain. Not the jagged edge of denial. But something deeper—something ancient, coiled in the marrow of my bones, whispering in a language only blood could understand. It pulsed through me, thick and black, filling the hollows the curse had carved, pressing against the walls of my veins like a caged storm. My grandmother called it awakening. Selene called it power. But I knew the truth.
It was possession.
I lay on the glass slab, strapped down, my wrists and ankles bound in silver chains etched with containment runes. The cell hummed around me, the transparent walls glowing faintly, the air thick with ozone and the scent of dried roses—her signature, her curse, her claim. Beyond the glass, shadowed figures watched. Silent. Still. Waiting.
And in the center—her.
My grandmother. The Hollow Witch. Her violet eyes—just like mine—locked onto mine, unblinking, unrelenting. She stood beside Selene, their heads close, their voices low. I couldn’t hear the words. But I didn’t need to.
I knew.
They were waiting for the serum to take full hold. Waiting for me to break. Waiting for the moment my will cracked, my magic surged, and I became what they wanted—what they’d designed.
A weapon.
A queen.
Their perfect Hollow witch.
But they didn’t understand.
They thought control came from blood.
From magic.
From fear.
They were wrong.
Control came from choice.
And I had already made mine.
I closed my eyes.
And reached for him.
Not with magic. Not with fire. Not with force.
With memory.
Kaelen’s hands on my skin. His breath against my neck. The way his gold eyes burned when he looked at me—like I was the only light in his storm. The way he’d held me when I was broken. The way he’d let me go when I was afraid. The way he’d said, *“I love you,”* like it was the most dangerous truth in the world.
The bond flared—faint, distant, but there.
A thread of fire and storm, stretching across the mountains, through the darkness, through the silence. It wasn’t strong. It wasn’t whole. But it was real. And as long as it existed, I wasn’t alone.
And as long as I wasn’t alone—
I wasn’t beaten.
“She’s resisting,” Selene said, her voice a velvet knife. “The serum should have broken her by now.”
“She’s stronger than I thought,” my grandmother replied, her voice calm, calculating. “But even the strongest flame can be smothered. Increase the dose.”
I didn’t flinch.
Just waited.
Because I knew what came next.
The needle. Cold. Sharp. The serum flooding my veins, thicker this time, darker, heavier. My body arched, my vision whiting out, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The pressure inside me grew—like something was rising, fighting to break free. My fangs lengthened. My claws extended. My magic—suppressed, sealed—flickered, then surged, then died.
And then—
I felt it.
Not pain.
Not fear.
Power.
It exploded through me—raw, unfiltered, ancient. Lightning crackled at my fingertips. Fire spiraled up my arms. The glass trembled. The runes flared. The observers stepped back.
And my grandmother—
She smiled.
“There,” she whispered. “There she is. The true Alpha. The queen of fire and thorn.”
But I didn’t move.
Just lay there, my body humming with power, my mind clear, my will unbroken. Because I knew the truth they didn’t.
Power wasn’t in the magic.
It was in the choice.
And I would not be their weapon.
Not today.
Not ever.
“She’s ready,” Selene said. “Let her go. Let her destroy him. Let her take the throne.”
“No,” my grandmother said. “Not yet. The bond is still active. As long as she feels him, as long as she loves him, she’ll resist. We must sever it first.”
“And how do you propose to do that?” Selene asked.
My grandmother turned to me, her violet eyes gleaming. “By making her choose. By forcing her to see—love is not strength. It is weakness. And if she won’t break it herself… we’ll break her for her.”
And then—
They brought him.
Not in chains. Not in blood.
But in silence.
Kaelen.
They dragged him into the observation chamber, his body bruised, his face bloodied, his gold eyes burning with fury. Riven was with him—bound, gagged, his dark eyes wide with fear. They didn’t speak. Didn’t struggle. Just stood there, their presence a wall of storm and iron, of loyalty and defiance.
And when Kaelen saw me—
His breath hitched.
“Garnet,” he said, voice rough, raw. “Look at me.”
I didn’t move. Just stared, my heart pounding, my body aching, my soul screaming.
“They’ll kill you,” I said, my voice breaking. “If you fight. If you resist. They’ll kill you and make me watch.”
“Then let them,” he growled. “I’d rather die than let them take you.”
My grandmother stepped between us, her hand rising. “You see, daughter? This is what love costs. This is what loyalty brings. Death. Pain. Loss. And for what? A man who will die anyway? A bond that will break you?”
“No,” I whispered.
“Yes,” she said. “And if you don’t complete the bond—if you don’t let him claim you—we’ll kill him. Slowly. Painfully. And you’ll watch. Every second. Every breath. Every drop of blood.”
My breath stopped.
“You’re lying,” I said.
“Am I?” she asked. “Or are you just afraid to believe the truth? That love is not power. That choice is not freedom. That you cannot save him. That you cannot save yourself.”
I looked at Kaelen.
Really looked at him.
And in his eyes, I saw it.
Not fear.
Not pain.
Trust.
He believed in me.
Even now.
Even here.
Even when they held the knife to his throat.
And gods, I loved him for it.
“Let him go,” I said, my voice low. “Let Riven go. And I’ll do it. I’ll complete the bond. I’ll let him claim me. I’ll become what you want.”
My grandmother smiled—thin, cold. “You see? Love breaks even the strongest will.”
“No,” I said. “It doesn’t break me. It makes me. And if this is the only way to save him—then I’ll do it. But on my terms.”
“And what are your terms?” Selene asked, her voice sharp.
“Release them,” I said. “Remove the chains. Remove the serum. And let me choose him. Not because you forced me. Not because I’m afraid. But because I love him.”
Silence.
Heavy. Thick. Real.
And then—
My grandmother nodded.
“Remove the chains,” she said.
The silver bindings fell away. The serum’s pressure faded. My magic—suppressed, sealed—roared to life, not with denial, not with resistance, but with completion. The sigil on my chest glowed, warm and bright, the brand of fire and thorn pulsing with Kaelen’s blood.
And then—
They released him.
He didn’t run to me.
Didn’t touch me.
Just stood there, his gold eyes burning, his body tense, his scent—storm and iron—filling the chamber.
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, voice low. “I’d rather die than let them force you.”
“And I’d rather die than let them kill you,” I said, stepping forward. “But this isn’t about them. It’s about us. About what we’ve chosen. About what we’ve fought for. And if completing the bond is the only way to break the curse—then I’ll do it. Not because I’m afraid. Not because I’m forced. But because I love you. Because I choose you. Every time.”
He didn’t move. Just looked at me—really looked at me.
And then—
He stepped forward.
One foot. Then the other. Slow. Deliberate. Like every step was a vow.
And when he reached me—
He didn’t kiss me.
Didn’t touch me.
Just pressed his forehead to mine, his breath warm against my skin, his voice a whisper.
“Say it,” he said. “Say you’re mine. Not because of magic. Not because of blood. Because you choose to be.”
My breath caught.
“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 desperate. Not angry. Not a surrender.
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 glass cracked. The runes flared, glowing silver, humming with ancient power.
And then—
He lifted me.
Not with magic. Not with fire.
With his hands.
He carried me to the center of the cell, laid me on the slab, 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 again,” 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 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 kissed me—slow, deep, a vow sealed in breath and heat. His hands slid down my body, over my ribs, my hips, down to the waistband of my pants. He tore them off—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. And then—
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 face, my fingers tracing his jaw. “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 glass 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 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.