The silence in my chamber was thick—too thick. Not peaceful. Not safe. It was the quiet of a storm gathering, of breath held too long, of secrets pressing against the walls like ghosts. I sat on the edge of the bed, back rigid, hands clenched in my lap, staring at the small cloth in my palm. Kaelen’s blood. Dried. Dark. *Alive* in ways I couldn’t explain.
Mira had left hours ago, after checking the wards, after whispering, *“You’re not alone,”* as if that made anything better. But I was alone. More alone than ever. Because now, even my hatred wasn’t certain.
He hadn’t killed her.
The blood-memory had shown me that—clear as moonlight on stone. My mother, laughing. Kaelen, holding her hand. Not in betrayal. In *alliance*. And then the cloaked figure—the real killer—driving the blade into her back while Kaelen *struggled*, bound by magic, helpless as she fell.
I had spent my life hating him.
Building my mission around his guilt.
And now—
What?
Was I supposed to just… stop?
No. That wasn’t how this worked. Just because he didn’t strike the killing blow didn’t mean he was innocent. He was there. He *let* it happen. And if he truly tried to save her, why hadn’t he spoken up? Why had he let the world believe he was the betrayer? Why had he kept her journal sealed for two centuries?
Unless—
Unless he was protecting something.
Or someone.
I stood abruptly, pacing to the washbasin. My reflection stared back—pale, haunted, lips still swollen from his kiss. I splashed cold water on my face, scrubbed until my skin burned, then dried it with a rough linen cloth. I wouldn’t let this break me. Wouldn’t let *him* break me. I was Indigo Vale. Last heir of the Eclipse Coven. I had survived exile, betrayal, silence. I would not be undone by a vampire’s mouth or a flicker of truth.
I needed answers.
And I knew exactly where to find them.
The silver case.
Kaelen had left it on the table in the main chamber, untouched since the binding. Silas had warned me not to touch it. The wards were strong. But so was I. And if my mother’s journal was inside—
I didn’t finish the thought. Just moved.
The door opened silently under my hand. The main chamber was empty—no Kaelen, no guards, no Silas. Just the low fire in the hearth, casting long shadows across the obsidian floor. The case sat where it always did, cold and unyielding, etched with Eclipse runes: *protection, memory, bloodline*.
I approached slowly, heart pounding. My fingers hovered over the silver surface. The wards hummed faintly, a low, warning thrum in the air. I closed my eyes, reached deep into the well of my magic—the part that was witch, the part that was *Eclipse*—and whispered the activation phrase.
“Veritas sanguis. Memoria umbra. Lumen in tenebris.”
Nothing.
I tried again, pouring more power into the words. Still nothing. The wards held, stronger than I’d expected. Stronger than any standard Eclipse warding. This wasn’t just protection. This was *sealing*. A lock meant to keep even bloodline heirs out.
Unless—
Unless it recognized the bond.
I hesitated. The bond was Kaelen’s as much as it was mine. If the case responded to bloodline magic, maybe it would also respond to the fusion of our power. The magic that had flared when our hands touched. The heat that still pulsed beneath my skin.
I exhaled, then pressed my palm flat against the case—right over the central rune. I focused on the bond, on the way it hummed between us, on the way it pulled me toward him even now, even in his absence. I let the connection open, just a crack, and pushed my magic through it—not to him, but *with* him.
And then—
A click.
Soft. Final.
The lid sprang open.
I gasped, stumbling back. The air around the case shimmered, like heat rising from stone, and then—silence. No explosion. No curse. Just the faint scent of old paper and dried ink.
Inside, nestled in black velvet, was a leather-bound journal. Small. Worn. The Eclipse sigil embossed on the cover, faded but still visible. My breath caught.
Her journal.
I reached for it, fingers trembling. The moment I touched it, the Mark of the Eclipse flared—bright, hot, *alive*—a pulse of indigo light that spread across my collarbone and down my chest. It wasn’t just reacting. It was *awakening*.
I opened the journal.
The first page was blank. The second—
“To my daughter, if she ever returns.”
My throat closed.
Her handwriting. Not a copy. Not a forgery. *Hers*. Flowing, elegant, the same script from the old coven records. And the words—
If she ever returns.
She had known. Known I would survive. Known I would come back. And she had left this—*for me*.
I turned the page.
“Indigo,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone. And you’ve found your way home. I don’t know how much you’ve been told. What lies they’ve fed you. But I need you to know the truth—before the Council twists it, before the vampires claim it, before the Fae bury it beneath illusion.
The Eclipse Coven did not fall by accident.
It was betrayed.
Not by Kaelen D’Vire.
By Lord Cassian.”
I froze.
Cassian.
The eldest vampire on the Council. The one who had orchestrated the binding. The one who had watched me with hunger in his eyes.
My hands shook. I kept reading.
“He came to me weeks before the ritual, claiming he wanted peace between the covens and the Dominion. He said Kaelen was unstable. Dangerous. That he planned to seize the Black Sigil and use it to control the ley lines. I didn’t believe him. But I agreed to meet, to hear his concerns.
That was my mistake.
He brought no guards. No weapons. Just words. And lies. He said Kaelen had already begun gathering forces. That he had spies in the Northern Conclave. That if I didn’t act, the Eclipse would be next.
I was afraid. Not for myself. For you.
So I agreed to a private meeting with Kaelen—under Cassian’s suggestion. A chance to confront him. To stop him before it was too late.
But it was a trap.
Kaelen came. I could see the truth in his eyes the moment he walked in—he was no threat. He was here to *protect* us. To warn me. But before I could speak, Cassian’s magic took hold. A binding spell, ancient, vile. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Could only watch as the cloaked figure stepped from the shadows.
It was Cassian.
He wore a glamour, but I saw through it. Saw his eyes. His hands. His voice, distorted but *familiar*.
He killed me.
And he made Kaelen watch.
He wanted the Black Sigil. But more than that—he wanted the Eclipse bloodline erased. He knew the prophecy. That the next Eclipse Heir would be half-vampire. That you would be strong enough to break his hold on the Council.
So he framed Kaelen. Let the world believe the vampire king had betrayed us. And he let you live—because he thought you’d be easier to control. A half-blood, raised in exile, ignorant of your power.
But I know you, Indigo.
You’re stronger than he thinks.
And if you’re reading this, then you’ve already begun to remember.
Trust Kaelen.
Not because he’s innocent.
But because he’s the only one who can help you destroy Cassian.
And because—
The bond between you is real.
It was foretold.
You were meant to find each other.
You were meant to save each other.
Don’t waste your vengeance on the wrong enemy.
Use your power.
Claim your throne.
And live.
I love you, my daughter.
Forever.
—Mother”
I couldn’t breathe.
The journal slipped from my fingers, landing on the floor with a soft thud. My knees gave out. I collapsed, back against the table, hands pressed to my mouth, tears burning behind my eyes.
It wasn’t Kaelen.
It was *Cassian*.
He had killed her. Framed Kaelen. Manipulated the Council. And all this time—
I had been hunting the wrong man.
I had *hated* the wrong man.
And Kaelen—
He hadn’t opened the journal because he was protecting *me*. Because he knew Cassian was still out there. Because if he moved too fast, if he revealed the truth, Cassian would vanish—just like he had that night.
He had *tried* to save her.
And he had *tried* to protect me.
I pressed my palms to my eyes, trying to stem the tears, but they came anyway—hot, silent, relentless. Not just grief. Not just guilt. But *shame*. For every cruel word I’d thrown at him. For every time I’d called him a murderer. For the way I’d looked at him with nothing but hatred in my eyes—when all along, he had been *grieving* too.
And the bond—
It wasn’t a curse.
It was a *gift*.
Meant to bring us together. To make us strong. To help us destroy the real enemy.
I looked down at the journal, still open to her last words.
Trust Kaelen.
Could I?
After everything?
After the blood-sharing? The kiss? The way he had pinned me, claimed me, made me *feel* in ways I had sworn never to feel again?
My body still remembered his touch. Still ached for it. The Mark of the Eclipse pulsed, warm against my skin, as if agreeing.
I didn’t have to trust him completely. Not yet. But I had to *know*.
Had to see his face when I told him I’d read it. Had to watch his eyes when I said her name.
I stood, picked up the journal, and tucked it into the inner pocket of my jacket. Then I turned—
And froze.
Kaelen stood in the doorway, backlit by the hall’s dim light. He hadn’t made a sound. Hadn’t announced himself. Just appeared, like a shadow given form. His hair was slightly tousled, his tunic rumpled, as if he’d been moving fast. His eyes—those molten gold irises—locked onto mine.
And then—
They dropped to the journal in my hand.
His expression didn’t change. But I saw it—just a flicker. A crack in the ice.
“You opened it,” he said, voice low.
Not a question.
A statement.
I didn’t answer. Just held his gaze, heart pounding, breath shallow.
He stepped inside, the door closing behind him with a soft click. “I told you not to.”
“You also told me you didn’t kill her,” I said, voice trembling. “Turns out, you were telling the truth.”
His jaw tightened. “And you believe that now?”
“I read her journal,” I said, pressing a hand to my chest, where the truth burned like fire. “She said Cassian framed you. That he killed her. That he wanted the Eclipse bloodline erased—because of *me*.”
Kaelen didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Just watched me, those golden eyes searching, *testing*.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I demanded. “Why let me hate you?”
“Because Cassian has ears everywhere,” he said, voice rough. “Because if I’d spoken, if I’d moved too fast, he would have vanished. And you—” He stepped closer. “You would have been alone. Unprotected. And he would have come for you.”
“So you let me believe you were a monster?”
“I let you believe what you needed to,” he said. “Until you were strong enough to face the truth.”
I stared at him. The man I had come to destroy. The man who had carried me when I collapsed. Who had kissed me until I couldn’t breathe. Who had kept my mother’s journal sealed for two centuries—*to protect me*.
And then—
The bond *pulled*.
Not pain. Not magic.
*Need.*
Low. Deep. *Real*.
My breath hitched. My skin burned. The Mark of the Eclipse flared, a pulse of heat that made me gasp.
Kaelen’s nostrils flared. He smelled it. My arousal. My *fear*. My *want*.
“You feel it,” he murmured. “Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not lying,” I whispered. “I just don’t know what it means.”
“It means you’re mine,” he said, stepping closer. “And I’m yours. Whether you want it or not.”
“And if I do want it?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Soft. Fragile. *Honest*.
He stilled.
Then—
He closed the distance between us, 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 say it,” he demanded, voice rough. “Say you want me.”
I looked up at him—really looked. At the shadows under his eyes. At the scar on his forearm. At the way his breath caught when my fingers brushed his chest.
And I knew—
This wasn’t just about vengeance.
Or politics.
Or the bond.
This was about *us*.
And for the first time—
I didn’t want to destroy him.
I wanted to *keep* him.
So I did the only thing I could.
I kissed him.
Not hard. Not angry. But *soft*—a press of lips, a whisper of want, a surrender I didn’t know I was capable of. His breath caught. His grip tightened. And then—
He kissed me back.
Slow. Deep. *Ours*.
And in that moment—
The bond didn’t flare.
It *sang*.