The first thing I noticed when we returned to the fortress was the silence.
Not the quiet hum of torches or the distant echo of sentries changing shift. Not the usual low murmur of warriors in the hall or the clink of steel being sharpened. This was different. Heavier. Thicker. Like the air itself had been poisoned with something unsaid, something coiled and waiting to strike.
Kaelen felt it too. His hand tightened around mine as we crossed the courtyard, his gold eyes scanning the shadows, his body a wall between me and the world. The pack had knelt for me in the Heart Grove. They had chanted *“Queen”* like it was a prayer, like it was a promise. And for the first time, I believed I deserved it.
But now—
Now, their eyes avoided mine.
They stepped aside, yes. They bowed their heads, yes. But not with reverence. Not with loyalty. With fear. With suspicion.
And I knew—
Something had changed.
“They’re watching,” I murmured, my fingers curling into his. “Not like before. Not like allies.”
“They’re afraid,” he said, voice low. “Of what we’ve done. Of what you are. Of what’s coming.”
“And what’s coming?”
He didn’t answer.
Just led me through the great hall, past the war room, toward our chambers. But before we reached the door, Riven appeared—his face grim, his dark eyes sharp with urgency.
“They’ve found him,” he said.
Kaelen stopped. “Who?”
“Council Elder Torin,” Riven said. “Dead. In the archives. Throat slit. Blood everywhere.”
My breath caught.
Torin had been one of the few elders who supported our union. Who believed the bond could bring peace between the clans. Who had argued against war when the Southern Pack threatened invasion. And now—
He was gone.
“And?” Kaelen asked, voice like steel.
“And,” Riven said, “they’re saying it was you.”
“Me?” I asked, stepping forward. “That’s impossible. I was with Kaelen. In the Heart Grove. In front of the entire pack.”
“They don’t care,” Riven said. “The evidence is already planted. Your dagger was found at the scene. Your scent is on the body. And—”
“—and?” I pressed.
He hesitated. “And Selene has already spoken to the Council. She says she saw you arguing with Torin hours before. Says you threatened him. Said he was standing in the way of your rise to power.”
I laughed—low, sharp, disbelieving. “She’s lying. I haven’t seen Torin in days. I wouldn’t—”
“They don’t need truth,” Kaelen said, his voice quiet, dangerous. “They need a scapegoat. And you’re the perfect one. A hybrid witch. A Hollow bloodline. A woman who just claimed the throne. Who better to blame than the outsider who’s already too powerful?”
My stomach twisted.
Because he was right.
They’d been waiting for this. My grandmother. Selene. They hadn’t just vanished after the claiming. They’d been planning. Setting the trap. And now—
They’d sprung it.
“They want me discredited,” I said. “They want the bond broken. They want me exiled—or dead.”
“And they’ll get it,” Kaelen said, “if you don’t face them.”
I looked at him. “You want me to walk into a Council hearing knowing they’ve already decided my guilt?”
“I want you to walk in like a queen,” he said, stepping closer, his hand rising to my cheek. “Not a suspect. Not a criminal. Not a pawn. But the woman who stood in the Heart Grove and let me mark her in front of the pack. The woman who saved my life. The woman I love. And if they try to take you from me—”
“—they’ll have to go through you,” I finished.
He didn’t smile. Just nodded. “Exactly.”
The Council chamber was a cathedral of stone and shadow, its vaulted ceiling lost in darkness, its walls lined with torches that flickered like dying stars. The Supernatural Council sat in a half-circle of carved thrones—werewolves, vampires, a single Fae representative, their faces unreadable, their eyes sharp with judgment. At the center, the body of Elder Torin lay on a stone slab, covered in white silk, the scent of blood and old magic thick in the air.
I walked in alone.
Kaelen had wanted to come with me. Riven had offered to stand at my side. But I’d refused. This wasn’t just about clearing my name. It was about proving I wasn’t afraid. That I wouldn’t hide behind my mate. That I could face them—
As their equal.
My boots echoed on the stone as I stepped forward, my head high, my back straight, my dress of garnet silk clinging to my curves. My fangs ached. My claws itched. My magic hummed beneath my skin, not with fear, not with denial, but with defiance.
And then I saw her.
Selene.
She stood at the edge of the chamber, dressed in crimson silk that clung to her like blood, her dark hair cascading over one shoulder, her lips painted the same shade as her gown. She didn’t look at me. Just sipped from a crystal goblet, her eyes half-lidded, her smile faint.
Like she already knew she’d won.
“Garnet Hollow,” the High Enforcer said, his voice cold. “You stand accused of the murder of Council Elder Torin. How do you plead?”
I didn’t hesitate.
“Not guilty,” I said, my voice clear, steady. “And I demand to know who planted my dagger at the scene. Who forged my scent. Who paid someone to lie.”
A murmur rose from the Council.
“You were seen arguing with him,” Selene said, stepping forward. “The night before. He refused to support your coronation. Said you were unstable. Dangerous. And you told him—”
“—I told him he was wrong,” I said, cutting her off. “I told him that leadership isn’t about bloodline or tradition. It’s about strength. About loyalty. About love. And if that makes me dangerous—then so be it.”
“And the dagger?” the High Enforcer asked.
“I haven’t seen it since the battle with the Southern Alpha,” I said. “It was in my chamber. Anyone could have taken it. Anyone could have used it.”
“But your scent,” another elder said. “It was on his neck. On his hands. Strong. Fresh.”
“Because I visited him yesterday,” I said. “To thank him. For standing with us. For believing in the bond. I touched his shoulder. Hugged him. And now—someone used that kindness to frame me.”
Silence.
Heavy. Thick. Real.
And then—
Selene laughed.
Low. Cruel. Triumphant.
“You expect us to believe that?” she said. “That you, a woman with a cursed bloodline, with a history of violence, with a motive to remove anyone who stands in your way—you just happened to visit him? That someone else took your dagger? That someone else forged your scent?”
“I expect you to believe the truth,” I said, stepping closer. “Not the lies you’ve been fed. Not the fear they’ve planted. I didn’t kill Torin. But I know who did. And I know why.”
“And who?” the High Enforcer asked.
I didn’t look at Selene.
Just at the Council.
“Someone who wants war,” I said. “Someone who wants the Northern Pack weakened. Someone who wants the bond broken. Someone who wants me gone.”
“And that someone is you,” Selene said, her voice sharp. “You’ve always been a threat. A hybrid. A Hollow witch. You don’t belong here. You never did.”
“And yet,” I said, turning to her, “you’re the one who’s been sneaking into Kaelen’s chambers. You’re the one who’s been spreading lies. You’re the one who’s been working with my grandmother to control the curse.”
Her smile faltered.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
“You have no proof,” she said.
“I don’t need proof,” I said. “I have truth. And you—”
“—are finished,” Kaelen’s voice cut through the chamber.
He stood in the doorway, tall and lethal, his gold eyes burning, his presence a wall of storm and iron. The Council stirred. Selene paled. And I—
I didn’t feel fear.
Not anymore.
Just fire.
He walked to me, his steps slow, deliberate, and without a word, he 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 then he spoke—
To the Council. To the world.
“If you execute her,” he said, voice low, rough, “you execute me.”
Silence.
Not a breath. Not a whisper. Not a flicker of flame.
And then—
Chaos.
“You would die for her?” one elder asked, stunned.
“I would burn the world for her,” Kaelen said. “And if you think I’ll let you take her from me—”
“—you’re already dead,” I said, stepping forward, my voice rising. “I didn’t come here to beg. I came here to warn you. The Hollow Witch is alive. Selene is her ally. They’re working together to break the bond, to control the curse, to make me their weapon. And if you let them—”
“—you’ll lose more than one elder,” Kaelen finished. “You’ll lose peace. You’ll lose unity. You’ll lose everything.”
The Council was silent.
But not for long.
“We need time,” the High Enforcer said. “To investigate. To verify your claims.”
“Then investigate,” I said. “But don’t lock me away. Don’t treat me like a criminal. I’m not your enemy. I’m your queen.”
“And I,” Kaelen said, stepping forward, “am your Alpha. And if you try to take her—”
“—you’ll have to go through me.”
They didn’t argue.
Just nodded.
And for the first time—
I saw fear.
Not in Selene.
Not in the Council.
In the air itself.
Like the world was holding its breath.
We left the chamber in silence.
Not because we had nothing to say.
But because we didn’t need to.
The bond hummed between us, warm and steady, a current of fire and storm that needed no words. But as we stepped into the courtyard, I felt it—
A hand on my arm.
I turned.
Selene.
Her fingers dug into my skin, her smile thin, her eyes cold. “You think you’ve won,” she whispered. “But you haven’t. The curse is still there. Beltane is coming. And when it does—”
“—you’ll be dead,” I said, stepping closer. “And I’ll be standing over your body, watching the life drain from your eyes. So go ahead. Plot. Scheme. Lie. But know this—”
I leaned in, my lips brushing her ear. “I’m not afraid of you. And I’m not afraid of dying. But you? You’re afraid of me. Because you know—”
“—I’ll win.”
She didn’t flinch.
Just smiled.
And walked away.
Later, as we stood on the balcony of our chamber, the moon high above, the fortress quiet below, Kaelen pulled me into his arms.
“They’ll come for us,” he said.
“Let them,” I said. “We’ve already won.”
“How?”
“Because we chose each other,” I said. “Not because of magic. Not because of blood. But because we love each other. And that’s something they can’t control. Can’t curse. Can’t break.”
He didn’t answer.
Just leaned in—and kissed me.
Slow. Deep. A vow sealed in breath and heat.
The bond flared, not with need, but with something deeper.
Peace.
Finally.
And for the first time since I’d become who I was meant to be, I let myself believe it.
That I wasn’t just surviving.
I was alive.
And I would fight—
For him.
For us.
For every breath, every touch, every claim.
Because the curse wasn’t just in my blood.
It was in my heart.
And the only way to break it was to stop running.
To stop fighting.
To stop pretending I didn’t want him.
Because I did.
Not just to survive.
Not just to break the curse.
But because he saw me. Not as a weapon. Not as a pawn. Not as a cursed hybrid.
As me.
And maybe—just maybe—that was enough.