I didn’t move. Didn’t breathe. Didn’t even blink.
My fingers stayed pressed to the bite mark on my neck—warm, tender, undeniably real. The skin was raised, slightly swollen, the twin punctures deep enough to have drawn blood. It wasn’t a scratch. It wasn’t a bruise. It was a claim.
And I hadn’t given permission.
Kaelen sat across the room, his back against the stone wall, his golden eyes locked onto mine. He hadn’t touched me. Hadn’t reached for me. Hadn’t even tried to explain. He just watched me—like he was waiting for the storm to break.
And it did.
“You did this,” I said, voice low, trembling. “While I was unconscious. While I couldn’t stop you.”
He shook his head. “I didn’t.”
“Don’t lie to me!” I screamed, surging to my feet. The blanket fell away, and I barely noticed. My body was on fire—not with fever, but with rage. Humiliation. Betrayal. “You had every chance! You could’ve taken me a dozen times last night and you didn’t, so don’t tell me you wouldn’t do it now, when I was helpless!”
“I wouldn’t,” he said, standing slowly. “Not like this. Not without your consent.”
“Then who did?” I spat, backing toward the door. “Was it the storm? Was it the bond? Did it just decide I was yours?”
He didn’t answer.
And that silence? It was worse than a confession.
Because he knew. He knew what the bond was capable of. He knew how it fed on proximity, on touch, on the raw, unfiltered truth of what we felt. And now, after a night of fever and fire and desperate kisses, it had taken what we’d both been denying.
It had claimed me.
“You said you wouldn’t mark me unless I asked,” I whispered, tears burning my eyes. “You promised.”
“And I meant it,” he said, stepping forward. “I didn’t lay a hand on you after the fever spiked. I held you. I soothed you. I kept you alive. But when you passed out—when the bond surged—something changed. I felt it. A pulse. A shift. Like the magic itself reached into you.”
“And you did nothing?”
“I tried to block it,” he said, voice rough. “I put my body between you and the door. I chanted warding runes. I even drew blood—offered my own to distract the bond. But it wasn’t enough. The magic wanted its due.”
My breath hitched. “And you just let it happen?”
“I didn’t let it,” he said. “I couldn’t stop it. Not without breaking you.”
I laughed—a broken, jagged sound. “And this doesn’t?”
He flinched.
And gods, I wanted to hate him for it. Wanted to believe he’d done this on purpose, that he’d finally given in to instinct, that he was just like his father—ruthless, possessive, incapable of control.
But I couldn’t.
Because the man standing in front of me wasn’t a monster.
He was the one who’d carried me through a storm. Who’d licked my neck to soothe the fever. Who’d whispered, *“Hold on, Garnet. Just hold on,”* like I was the only thing in the world worth saving.
And now?
Now I was marked. Bound. Claimed.
Not by choice.
But by magic.
“Get out,” I said, voice hollow.
“Garnet—”
“Get. Out.”
He hesitated. His jaw clenched. His hands fisted at his sides. For a heartbeat, I thought he’d argue. Thought he’d try to touch me. Thought he’d remind me that we were still bound, still tethered, still his.
But he didn’t.
He just turned and walked to the door.
And just before he stepped outside, he stopped.
“I didn’t mark you,” he said, voice low. “But if someone else did… then we have a bigger problem than the bond.”
Then he was gone.
I didn’t move. Didn’t cry. Didn’t scream.
I just stood there, hand still pressed to the mark, my heart pounding like a war drum.
Because he was right.
If he hadn’t done this… then who had?
The ride back to the fortress was a blur of silence and storm-washed stone. Kaelen rode ahead, his back rigid, his presence a wall between us. I followed on foot, my boots heavy in the mud, my cloak damp with rain. The safehouse was behind us. The east wing still stood—barely. Cracks spiderwebbed up the tower, the spire half-collapsed, the silver sigils on the walls flickering like dying stars.
But none of it mattered.
Not the damage. Not the chaos. Not the Sentinels shouting orders, the witches chanting repair spells, the Fae envoys whispering in the shadows.
All that mattered was the mark.
And the lie I’d been telling myself.
I’d come here to destroy Kaelen Thorne. To break the curse. To avenge my mother.
But somewhere between the ritual, the warding test, the armory kiss, the forest ambush, and the storm night—I’d started to believe he wasn’t the enemy.
And now?
Now I didn’t know what to believe.
Lyra found me in the east wing, standing in the hallway outside my chamber, my hand still pressed to my neck. She didn’t speak at first. Just studied me—her violet eyes sharp, her expression unreadable.
“You’re marked,” she said finally.
I didn’t deny it.
She stepped closer, her fingers brushing the edge of my collar. “Not Kaelen’s. The venom’s wrong. Too sweet. Too… artificial.”
My breath caught. “Then whose is it?”
“Fae,” she said. “Or Vampire. Someone who wanted you to think Kaelen betrayed you.”
I swallowed. “Selene.”
Lyra nodded. “She’s been watching. Waiting. She knows the bond is unstable. She knows you’re vulnerable. And she knows that if she can make you doubt him—”
“—she wins,” I finished.
“Exactly.”
I leaned against the wall, my legs weak. “But how? How could she reach us in the safehouse? It was warded. Hidden. No one knew we were there.”
“She didn’t have to be there,” Lyra said. “Fae magic can weave illusions into dreams. Vampire glamours can slip through cracks in consciousness. If the bond was already unstable, if your mind was weakened by fever—”
“—she could have made me believe it was real,” I whispered.
“Yes.”
“And the bite?”
“Could be glamour. Could be real. But either way, it’s a message: *He claimed you. You’re his now. You’ve lost.*”
Tears burned my eyes. “And I believed it.”
“You were scared,” Lyra said softly. “And hurt. And confused. Anyone would have.”
I looked at her. “But you knew. You knew it wasn’t him.”
She hesitated. “Because I’ve seen real claiming. I’ve felt it. And this?” She touched the mark. “This feels… staged. Cold. Like it was meant to wound, not bind.”
I closed my eyes. “I accused him. I told him he was just like his father.”
“And he didn’t defend himself?”
“No,” I said. “He just… looked at me. Like I’d stabbed him.”
Lyra sighed. “Because he loves you. And you just broke his heart.”
The words hit me like a blade.
Loves me.
Not wants. Not desires. Not claims.
Loves.
And I’d thrown it back in his face.
I pushed off the wall, my breath coming fast. “I have to see him. I have to—”
“Wait,” Lyra said, catching my arm. “You’re not ready.”
“I don’t care—”
“You do,” she said. “Because if you go to him now, you’ll do it out of guilt. Out of fear. Out of obligation. And he’ll see it. And it will destroy what little trust is left.”
I stilled.
Because she was right.
I couldn’t face him until I knew the truth. Until I knew what I felt. Until I stopped running from the one thing I’d sworn I’d never let happen.
I was falling for him.
And it terrified me.
“Then what do I do?” I asked, voice breaking.
“You find proof,” she said. “You find out who did this. And you make them pay.”
I looked at her. “And if it’s Selene?”
“Then you expose her,” Lyra said. “In front of the pack. In front of the Council. In front of him. And you make sure he knows the truth.”
“And if he doesn’t believe me?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping. “Then you show him. With your body. With your voice. With your choice. Because that’s the only thing the bond can’t fake.”
I didn’t answer.
But I knew what I had to do.
That night, I sat by the fire in my chamber, the book Thorned Blood: The Legacy of the Northern Alphas open in my lap. I wasn’t reading. Wasn’t even pretending. I was thinking. Planning. Remembering.
The fever. The storm. The kiss. The bite.
It hadn’t felt like Kaelen. Not really. His bites were rougher. Deeper. Hungrier. This one? It had been precise. Controlled. Almost… clinical.
And the dream.
I’d dreamed of him—of his hands on my skin, his mouth on my neck, his voice whispering my name. But the voice hadn’t been his. It had been smoother. Softer. Feminine.
Selene.
She’d been in my head. In my dreams. In my blood.
And she’d used the bond to make me believe I’d been claimed.
But she’d made one mistake.
She’d left a trace.
I closed the book and stood, crossing to the small writing desk in the corner. I pulled out a sheet of parchment, dipped my quill in ink, and began to write.
To Dr. Elias Vale,
I need your help. The bond is being manipulated. Someone used Fae or Vampire magic to simulate a claiming. I have a bite mark that isn’t Kaelen’s. I need to know what it is. And I need to know how to prove it.
Meet me at the edge of Blackfen Pass. Midnight. Come alone.
I folded the letter, sealed it with wax, and slipped it into an envelope. Then I opened the window, whistled low, and a raven appeared from the shadows, wings spread, eyes sharp.
“To Vale,” I said, tying the letter to its leg. “And be quick.”
The raven took off into the night.
I watched it go, my heart pounding.
This was dangerous. If Kaelen found out I was contacting Vale behind his back, if Selene intercepted the message, if the Crimson Court ambushed me—
But I didn’t care.
Because for the first time since I’d walked into this fortress, I wasn’t fighting to destroy Kaelen.
I was fighting to save him.
From her.
From the lie.
From me.
The next morning, I avoided the great hall. Avoided the training yard. Avoided every place I knew Kaelen would be. I stayed in my chamber, reading, pacing, waiting. The mark on my neck still throbbed, a constant, insistent reminder. But now, it didn’t feel like a brand.
It felt like a challenge.
At noon, Lyra slipped into my room, her face pale, her eyes wide.
“Vale’s coming,” she said. “But he’s not alone. Selene knows. She’s sending assassins.”
My breath caught. “Then we change the plan.”
“How?”
I stepped to the wardrobe, pulling out a dark cloak, a dagger, a vial of nightshade. “We meet her first.”
“You can’t—”
“I can,” I said, fastening the cloak. “Because if she thinks she’s won? She’s about to find out how wrong she is.”
Lyra studied me. Then, slowly, she smiled. “Good. Because I’ve had enough of her games.”
We moved through the fortress like shadows, avoiding patrols, slipping through servant passages. The west gate was unguarded—Selene had bribed the sentry, just like she’d bribed the courier, just like she’d bribed the armorer. She thought she was untouchable.
She was wrong.
We reached the edge of Blackfen Pass just as the sun dipped below the cliffs. The air was thick with mist, the ground slick with damp. And there, beneath the twisted roots of an ancient oak, stood Selene.
She wore crimson silk, her hair loose, her lips curved in a knowing smile.
“Garnet,” she purred. “How… punctual of you.”
I didn’t answer.
Just stepped forward, my dagger in hand, my voice low.
“You used Fae magic to simulate a claiming.”
Her smile didn’t waver. “And if I did?”
“Then you’re a coward,” I said. “Too weak to win him on your own, so you had to trick me. Had to make me doubt him. Had to make me hate him.”
“And did it work?” she asked, tilting her head.
I didn’t flinch. “For a moment. But then I realized—Kaelen Thorne doesn’t mark what he doesn’t love. And he loves me. Even when I don’t deserve it.”
Her smile faltered.
“So here’s your choice,” I said, stepping closer. “You walk away. Now. And never come near him again. Or I expose you. In front of the pack. In front of the Council. In front of everyone.”
She laughed. “And who will believe you? A hybrid witch with a cursed bloodline? A woman who came here to kill him?”
“They’ll believe the truth,” I said. “And if they don’t? I’ll make them.”
She stepped forward, her eyes dark. “You think you’re so strong. So righteous. But you’re just like me. You want him. You need him. You’ll do anything to keep him.”
“Yes,” I said. “But I won’t lie to get him. I won’t manipulate. I won’t destroy.”
“Then you’ll lose,” she whispered.
“Maybe,” I said. “But I’ll lose with honor. And you? You’ll win with lies. And in the end, that’s all you’ll have.”
She stared at me.
Then, slowly, she turned and walked into the mist.
I didn’t watch her go.
Just turned to Lyra and said, “It’s not over.”
“No,” she said. “But it’s beginning.”
That night, I stood at the window of my chamber, the wind tugging at my hair, the mark on my neck still warm.
I had come here to destroy Kaelen Thorne.
But the real battle?
It wasn’t against him.
It was for him.
And I wasn’t going to lose.