The carriage ride back to the D’Vire residence was silent—thick with unspoken words, with the weight of what had just happened, with the way the mating mark still burned beneath my collar like a brand. The glow had dimmed, but it was still there. Visible. *Real*. And now, so was I.
No more shadows. No more lies. No more pretending.
I was Eclipse. I was claimed. I was his.
Kaelen sat across from me, back straight, hands folded in his lap, eyes closed. He looked composed. Controlled. Like the High Sovereign who had just silenced a Council with a single declaration. But I could feel him—the bond humming between us, low and insistent, not with desire, but with something deeper. *Worry*. Not for himself. For me.
“You’re thinking,” he said, voice quiet, eyes still closed.
“I’m always thinking,” I replied, watching the flicker of moonlight on his face. “It’s what keeps me alive.”
He opened his eyes then—molten gold, sharp, searching. “You’re not afraid of them. Of the Council. Of Cassian.”
“No,” I said. “I’m afraid of *this*.” I touched the mark through the fabric, just a whisper of pressure. “I didn’t ask for it. I didn’t want it. And now—everyone knows.”
“And?”
“And they’ll use it,” I said. “Cassian already is. He didn’t just want proof of my power. He wanted proof of *us*. And now he has it. A scandal. A weapon. A way to turn the Council against you.”
Kaelen leaned forward, the carriage swaying slightly with the movement. “Let him try. The bond is sacred. The mark is real. And if they think I’ll deny you—” His voice dropped, rough, intimate. “—they don’t know me at all.”
My breath caught.
He didn’t look away. Just held my gaze, like he was daring me to challenge him. To deny *us*. But I couldn’t. Not after everything. Not after the way he’d stood in front of them all and said, *“I choose her.”*
And yet—
“What about Lira?” I asked, the words slipping out before I could stop them. “She still has the bite mark. She still wears your shirt. She still—”
“She has nothing,” he cut in, voice sharp. “The bite was self-defense. The shirt was stolen. And the ring—forged. You know this.”
“I know what you told me,” I said, voice tight. “But I don’t know what *she* believes. Or what she’ll say.”
He stilled.
Then—
He reached across the carriage, took my hand, laced his fingers with mine. His skin was cold, but the connection between us was anything but. The bond *sang*, soft and warm, a second heartbeat, *ours*.
“You are the only one I want,” he said, voice low, rough. “The only one I’ve ever wanted since the moment our hands touched. And if you need proof—” He turned my hand, pressed a kiss to the inside of my wrist, right over my pulse. “—then feel that. Feel *me*. Because I’m not going anywhere. And neither are you.”
My pulse jumped. My skin burned. The Mark of the Eclipse flared, just once, a pulse of heat that made me gasp.
And then—
The carriage stopped.
We were back.
—
The residence was quiet—too quiet. No guards. No Silas. No Mira. Just the low fire in the hearth, casting long shadows across the obsidian floor. Kaelen didn’t let go of my hand as we stepped inside. Just led me through the corridor, past the silver case, past the double doors of his private wing, to my chamber.
“You should rest,” he said, voice softer now. “After everything.”
“I’m not tired,” I said, but I didn’t pull away. Just stood there, heart pounding, breath shallow, the bond humming between us like a live wire.
He stepped closer, one hand sliding to the back of my neck, the other to my waist, pulling me flush against him. His body was cold, but the heat between us was undeniable.
“Then stay with me,” he murmured, his breath cold against my ear. “Not in my bed. Not yet. But in my chambers. Where I can protect you. Where I can *feel* you.”
My breath hitched.
“You don’t get to decide what I do,” I whispered.
“No,” he agreed. “But the bond does.”
And then—
He kissed me.
Not hard. Not angry. But *soft*—a press of lips, a whisper of want, a promise. My hands fisted in his tunic, pulling him closer. The bond flared, warm and alive, a pulse of heat that made me gasp.
And then—
A knock.
Sharp. Insistent.
The door.
We broke apart.
“Kaelen,” came Silas’s voice, muffled. “It’s urgent.”
He exhaled, long and slow, then pressed his forehead to mine. “Later,” he murmured. “This isn’t over.”
“It never is,” I said, smiling.
He turned, opened the door just enough to speak. I couldn’t hear the exchange—just low murmurs, Silas’s neutral tone, Kaelen’s clipped responses. Then the door closed.
He turned back to me.
“Cassian’s calling another emergency session,” he said, voice tight. “He’s bringing witnesses. Claims they saw us—*together*—in the Ward Room. That the bond was unstable. That you were *possessed*.”
My stomach dropped.
“Possessed?” I snapped. “By what? My own magic?”
“By me,” he said. “He’s saying I used blood-sharing to control you. That the mating mark isn’t fated—it’s *forced*.”
I stared at him. “And if he proves it?”
“He can’t,” Kaelen said. “Because it’s not true. The bond chose you. The magic chose you. And I—” He stepped closer, cupped my face, his touch cold, gentle. “—choose you.”
My breath caught.
“And if I’m not ready for that?”
“Then I’ll wait,” he said, voice rough. “Until you are. Until you trust me. Until you *love* me.”
The word—*love*—hit me like a blade.
Not just a possibility.
A *promise*.
And I—
I wasn’t ready.
But I was close.
So close.
So I did the only thing I could.
I reached for his hand.
And laced my fingers with his.
The bond didn’t flare.
It *sang*.
And for the first time—
I didn’t want to destroy him.
I wanted to *keep* him.
And I would.
No matter the cost.
—
I didn’t sleep.
Not that night. Not after everything.
I lay on the bed, fully clothed, back stiff, eyes on the ceiling, the bond humming beneath my ribs, his rhythm, *ours*. The mating mark still pulsed, warm and steady, as if it, too, had settled. But my mind—
It wouldn’t stop.
Cassian. Lira. The Council. The mark. The kiss. The way Kaelen had looked at me when he said, *“I choose you.”*
I pressed a hand to my chest, where the truth burned like fire. I wasn’t the same woman who had walked into this place ten days ago. I had come to bury him. To destroy him. To take back what was mine.
But now—
I wasn’t sure I wanted to destroy him anymore.
I wasn’t sure I wanted to take back what was mine—unless he was part of it.
I sat up slowly, joints stiff, mind foggy. The dawn was bleeding through the enchanted glass of the window—pale gold, fractured by the ley lines beneath the city. The air was cool, still thick with the scent of stone and old magic. The bond pulsed, low and steady, but quieter now. Calmer.
I changed into a fresh blouse—black, high-collared, practical—and pulled on my boots. I needed answers. Needed to see Lira. Needed to know what she believed. What she knew. What she wanted.
And I wasn’t going to wait for her to come to me.
—
Lira’s chambers were in the northern wing—closer to the Fae quarters, farther from Kaelen’s residence. The corridors were quieter here, the torchlight dimmer, the air laced with the scent of jasmine and illusion. I moved fast, boots silent on the stone, magic simmering beneath my skin. I wasn’t here to fight. Not yet. But I wasn’t here to beg, either.
I reached her door—carved with fae sigils, glowing faintly—and raised a hand.
Before I could knock—
It opened.
She stood there, bathed in the pale light of dawn, wearing a silk robe the color of blood, her hair loose, her eyes sharp with amusement.
“Well,” she said, voice like velvet and poison, “if it isn’t the little witch who thinks she’s a queen.”
I didn’t flinch. Just stepped inside, the door closing behind me with a soft click. “We need to talk.”
She smiled. Slow. Dangerous. “Oh, darling. I was *hoping* you’d say that.”
She moved to a low table, poured two glasses of wine—dark, rich, laced with something faintly sweet. She handed me one, her fingers brushing mine just long enough to make the bond *pull*.
“You don’t have to do this,” I said, not taking the glass. “You don’t have to be his enemy.”
“And you do?” she countered, sipping her wine. “You, who came here to kill him? Who called him a murderer? Who *hated* him?”
“I was wrong,” I said, voice low. “I know that now.”
She laughed, low and melodic. “How *noble*. But do you really think that changes anything? That he’ll forget the way you looked at him? The way you spoke to him? The way you *wanted* to destroy him?”
“He knows the truth,” I said. “And so do I.”
“Do you?” She stepped closer, until we were inches apart. “Then tell me—did he tell you about the night he fed from me? About the way I moaned his name? About the way he *bit* me—” She turned her head, offering me a better view of the bite mark on her throat. “—right here?”
My stomach twisted.
“He defended himself,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “You attacked him.”
“Did I?” She smiled. “Or did he *want* it? Did he *crave* it? Did he—”
“He doesn’t want you,” I snapped. “He never did.”
“Are you sure?” She reached up, traced the bite mark with one finger. “Because he called my name. Over and over. And he *marked* me.”
“It’s not a mark,” I said. “It’s a wound.”
“Is it?” She stepped closer, until her breath was hot against my lips. “Then why does it still *hurt*? Why does his scent still cling to my skin? Why do I still *feel* him—” Her hand slid down, over her stomach, to the curve of her hip. “—deep inside me?”
My hands clenched.
“You’re lying,” I said, voice shaking.
“Am I?” She reached into the pocket of her robe—and pulled out a small, silver ring. The D’Vire crest etched into the band. “He gave me this. Said I was the only one who truly understood him.”
My vision blurred.
The bond *pulled*—sharp, insistent, a knife twisting in my chest. My magic surged, the Mark of the Eclipse flaring hot against my skin. I could feel him—Kaelen—somewhere in the residence, his presence a cold fire in my veins. But I couldn’t focus. Couldn’t think. All I could see was her. Her skin. Her scent. His *ring*.
And the bite mark.
“You don’t belong here,” I said, voice low, dangerous.
“And you do?” She laughed. “You’re a half-blood. A *bastard*. The Council will never accept you. But me? I’m pureblood. Ancient. *Deserving*.” She stepped closer, until her breath was hot against my lips. “And I’ll take everything from you. His bed. His throne. His *heart*. And when I do, I’ll make sure he forgets you ever existed.”
I didn’t think.
I just moved.
My hand shot out, fisted in the front of her robe, yanking her forward. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hissed. “You don’t know *him*.”
She didn’t flinch. Just smiled. “Oh, but I do. And so will you—when he chooses me over you.”
“He won’t.”
“Won’t he?” She reached up, gently pried my fingers from the fabric. “Then why hasn’t he marked you? Why hasn’t he claimed you? Why hasn’t he—”
And then—
She did it.
Not with words.
Not with magic.
But with *touch*.
Her free hand slid down, over my collar, to the mating mark beneath the fabric. Her fingers brushed it—just once, light, teasing—and the bond *screamed*.
Not pain. Not magic.
*Jealousy*.
I shoved her back—hard—against the wall, my magic flaring, the Mark of the Eclipse glowing bright against my skin. “Don’t *touch* me,” I snarled. “Don’t you *dare* touch what’s mine.”
She didn’t flinch. Just smiled. “Oh, darling. He didn’t *mark* you. The bond did. And bonds can be *broken*.”
“Not this one,” I said, voice cold. “Not by you. Not by Cassian. Not by *anyone*.”
She tilted her head. “Then prove it.”
“I don’t have to,” I said. “Because I’m not afraid of you anymore.”
And then—
I turned.
Walked out.
But as the door closed behind me, I heard her whisper—
“He bit me here.”
And for the first time—
I wasn’t sure I believed him.