The silence between us is no longer a weapon.
It’s a bridge.
After Kaelen’s confession—after the raw, shattered truth of how he’d been drugged, bound, forced to watch my mother die, his blood stolen to sign the execution order—I didn’t scream. Didn’t lash out. Didn’t pull away.
I held on.
Pressed my face into his chest, where the scent of pine and iron and smoke wrapped around me like a vow, and let the dam break. Not with tears. Not with sobs. But with something quieter, deeper—recognition. He wasn’t the monster I’d painted him. He was a prisoner, just like me. A pawn, just like my mother. A weapon, forged and wielded by the same hands that had taken everything from me.
And now, we were both free.
Not from the bond.
From the lies.
When I finally lifted my head, my eyes met his—storm-gray to storm-gray—and for the first time, I didn’t see dominance. Didn’t see control. Didn’t see the Alpha who’d marked me in the ruins of the archive and growled, “You’re mine.”
I saw him.
Kaelen Dain.
The man who’d fought to survive. Who’d stayed in the shadows to protect others. Who’d carried the weight of a betrayal he didn’t commit and still refused to break.
And in that moment, something shifted.
Not the bond.
Us.
—
We’re in the Northern Wing now, standing in the dim glow of the fae lanterns that line the training yard. The air is still thick with the scent of sweat and steel, the echoes of Kaelen’s sparring match with Riven fading into the mountain wind. Riven is gone—dismissed with a single nod—and we’re alone, the bond humming between us like a live wire, steady, sure, no longer screaming, no longer at war.
“We need to move,” I say, voice low. “Before Vexis regroups. Before Mira tries again. Before the Oracle—” I hesitate, the image of her red-glowing eyes flashing in my mind. “—whatever that was, comes back.”
Kaelen doesn’t answer right away. He turns, walking to the edge of the yard where a long wooden table holds an array of weapons—daggers, blades, a curved silver sickle etched with wolf runes. He picks up a dagger, turning it in his hand, the moonsteel catching the light. “You want to take the fight to him.”
“I want justice.”
“And you think burning his estate will give you that?”
“I think it’ll give us answers.” I step closer, my voice sharpening. “The ledger in the Vault was destroyed. But if Vexis kept records—if he documented the executions, the blood thefts, the way he framed you—then they’re not gone. They’re hidden. And I know where.”
He turns to me. “His estate.”
“The underground wing. The one sealed with vampire sigils. I’ve seen the schematics. There’s a chamber beneath the wine cellar. Warded. Isolated. The kind of place someone like Vexis would keep his darkest secrets.”
“And you’ve seen the schematics how?”
“Orin.” My voice tightens. “Before the Oracle’s warning, he gave me access to the old maps. Said they might help. I didn’t think—” I cut myself off. Don’t say it. Don’t give the doubt a voice.
Kaelen studies me. “You don’t trust him.”
“I don’t know who to trust.” I lift my chin. “But I know Vexis is the one who signed the order. Who used your blood. Who set the fire in the archive. Who triggered your heat. He’s not just an enemy. He’s the architect. And if we want to tear this system down, we start with him.”
He’s silent for a long moment. Then he sets the dagger down. “It’s a trap.”
“Of course it is.”
“You’ll be walking into his territory. His wards. His guards. He’ll be waiting.”
“Then we go at night. During the waning moon. When his power is weakest. When the wards are thin.” I step closer, my voice dropping. “And we go together.”
He looks at me. “You’re asking me to break Council law. To attack a Council member on his own land. If we’re caught—”
“We won’t be.”
“If we are, it’ll start a war.”
“It’s already started.” I hold his gaze. “You said you wanted to burn the Council to the ground. Well, I’m not waiting. I’m not hiding. I’m not playing their games. And if you’re still the man who stood by while they executed my mother—”
“I wasn’t.” His voice is low, dangerous. “And I’m not the man who’ll let them take you.”
“Then prove it.” I step into him, close enough that our breaths mingle, close enough that I can feel the heat of his body, the pulse of the bond. “Help me. Not as the Alpha. Not as the Council enforcer. But as my mate. As the man who was framed. As the one who wants to see Vexis burn just as much as I do.”
His jaw tightens. His storm-gray eyes darken. For a heartbeat, I think he’ll refuse. Think he’ll fall back into control, into duty, into the role that’s kept him alive for centuries.
Then—
He nods.
Just once.
“We go tonight.”
—
The plan is simple.
Stealth. Speed. Silence.
No weapons unless necessary. No magic unless unavoidable. We move through the underpaths—narrow tunnels carved into the mountain rock, used by servants and spies to navigate the Spire unseen. The air is cold, damp, the walls slick with moss, the only light coming from the faint glow of bioluminescent fungi clinging to the stone.
Kaelen leads, his movements silent, his senses scanning for threats. I follow, my magic low, contained, just a flicker beneath my skin. The bond hums between us—steady, strong—but it’s different now. Not a chain. Not a curse. A current. A connection. I can feel his focus, his tension, the way his body tenses when we pass a junction, the way his hand lifts slightly, signaling me to stop.
We don’t speak.
We don’t need to.
The bond says enough.
After an hour, we reach the exit—a rusted iron grate hidden behind a waterfall of black ice. Kaelen slices through the lock with a claw, then pushes the grate open, cold night air rushing in. We slip out, crouching behind a cluster of jagged rocks just beyond the tree line.
Vexis’s estate looms ahead.
A sprawling manor of black stone and twisted iron, its spires clawing at the sky like skeletal fingers. No lights in the windows. No guards patrolling the grounds. Just silence. Stillness. The kind of quiet that feels like a breath held too long.
“Too easy,” I whisper.
Kaelen nods. “He knows we’re coming.”
“Then he wants us to.”
“Or he’s already moved the records.”
“Then we make him regret it.” I rise, pressing a hand to my thigh where a silver dagger is strapped beneath my tunic. “We go in through the wine cellar. Like the schematics showed. You take point. I’ll cover the rear. If we’re separated—”
“We’re not.” His hand closes around my wrist, his thumb brushing my pulse. “No matter what. You stay with me. Understood?”
I glare at him. “I’m not your pet.”
“You’re my mate.” His voice drops. “And I’m not losing you to some trap. Not after everything.”
For a heartbeat, I want to argue. Want to pull away. Want to remind him that I’ve been surviving on my own for years, that I don’t need his protection.
But then I feel it—the bond, pulsing with something deeper than possession. Fear. Not for himself. For me.
And I realize—
He’s not trying to control me.
He’s trying to keep me alive.
So I nod. “Understood.”
—
The wine cellar is beneath the east wing, accessed through a narrow stone staircase hidden behind a false wall in the kitchen. The air is thick with the scent of aged bloodwine and damp earth, the shelves lined with dusty bottles, their labels faded, their seals intact.
Kaelen moves first, claws extended, fangs bared, his senses scanning for magic, for traps, for the faintest hint of movement. I follow, my magic flaring just beneath my skin, ready to ignite at the first sign of danger.
We find the door exactly where the schematics said it would be—a heavy iron slab set into the back wall, sealed with a vampire sigil that pulses with a faint, sickly light.
“Blood lock,” I whisper.
Kaelen doesn’t hesitate. He slices his palm with a claw and presses it to the sigil.
The rune flares—crimson and black—then fades. The door groans open, revealing a narrow passage that descends into darkness.
We move in.
The air grows colder, the walls slick with condensation, the floor uneven. The passage splits—left and right. Kaelen takes the left, moving fast, silent, his body a shadow in the dark. I follow, my breath steady, my senses sharp.
Then—
A sound.
Not from ahead.
From behind.
Soft. Deliberate.
Footsteps.
I spin.
The passage is empty.
But the bond—
It flares.
Not with danger.
With recognition.
“Kaelen,” I whisper, turning back. “We’re not alone.”
He’s already moving, crouched low, scanning the shadows. “Vampire. Fae. Something older.”
Then—
A flicker of light.
From the right passage.
We move toward it, silent, fast. The passage opens into a chamber—small, circular, its walls lined with iron shelves stacked with scrolls, ledgers, vials of dark liquid. In the center, a single candle burns, its flame unnaturally still, casting long, shifting shadows.
And on the far wall—
A map.
Not of the Spire.
Of the world.
With names. Dates. Locations.
All marked in blood.
My breath catches.
“This is it,” I whisper, stepping forward. “The ledger. The proof.”
Kaelen moves to the shelves, scanning the scrolls. “Names. Executions. Blood thefts. All signed with Vexis’s seal.”
I grab a ledger, flipping it open. Names. Dates. Causes of death. All hybrids. All executed. All with a single note beneath: Specimen secured. Blood harvested. Subject terminated.
And then—
At the bottom of the page—
Lysara Ember. Sentence carried out by Council Enforcer K.D. Blood confirmation: verified.
But beneath it—
A different hand. Fainter. Older. Forged. Blood stolen. K.D. not present.
Proof.
Real, undeniable proof.
“We have it,” I whisper, clutching the ledger to my chest. “We can expose him. We can—”
Then—
The candle snuffs out.
Darkness.
And from the shadows—
Laughter.
Cold. Familiar.
“I knew you’d come.”
Vexis steps into the chamber, dressed in black silk, his crimson eyes glowing in the dark. He’s not alone. Two vampire enforcers flank him, their fangs bared, their hands gripping silver daggers.
Kaelen moves instantly, stepping in front of me, his body a wall. “You set this trap,” he growls.
“Of course I did.” Vexis smiles. “You think I’d let the truth survive? That I’d let a half-breed witch and a broken Alpha dismantle centuries of order?”
“It’s not order,” I say, stepping around Kaelen, the ledger still in my arms. “It’s tyranny. And we have the proof.”
“Do you?” He tilts his head. “And who will believe you? The Council? The packs? The covens? You’re a hybrid. He’s a liability. You think they’ll trust the word of a dying bloodline and a cursed beast?”
“They’ll believe the records,” Kaelen says.
“Records can be forged.” Vexis takes a step forward. “Just like your signature was.”
My blood runs cold.
He’s right.
They’ll say it’s fake. They’ll say we manipulated it. They’ll say the bond has clouded our judgment.
And without witnesses, without a public revelation—
It won’t matter.
“Then we’ll burn it all,” I say, lifting the ledger. “Every last page. Every lie. Every name. I’ll turn this city to ash before I let you keep it.”
“Go ahead.” Vexis smiles. “Burn it. And I’ll have you executed for destroying Council property. And him—” He gestures to Kaelen. “—I’ll let the bond fever take him. Let him go feral. Let him tear apart everyone he loves before he dies screaming.”
Kaelen doesn’t flinch. But I feel it—the bond, pulsing with tension, with rage, with the first flicker of something darker. Fever.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say, stepping forward. “You don’t have to be their weapon. You created the Marked Alphas. You made him what he is. But you don’t own him.”
“I own everything,” Vexis says. “Including you.”
Before I can react, he snaps his fingers.
The enforcers move.
One lunges at Kaelen. The other at me.
But Kaelen is faster.
He shifts—just partially, claws erupting from his fingers, fangs lengthening—and slams into the first enforcer, tearing through his chest with a single swipe. Blood sprays the wall.
The second enforcer reaches me—
I drop the ledger and ignite.
Fire explodes from my palms, a wave of heat and light that slams into him, sending him crashing into the shelves. He screams as the flames catch his cloak, rolling, thrashing, but I don’t watch. I spin, grabbing the ledger, then turn to Kaelen—
“We have to go!”
But Vexis is already moving.
He raises a hand—
And the ceiling collapses.
Stone and fire and burning timber crash down between us, cutting off the exit. Kaelen and I are on one side. Vexis and the dying enforcer on the other.
“You’re not leaving,” Vexis says, stepping back. “Burn together. Like you were always meant to.”
Then he’s gone, vanishing into the smoke.
The fire roars.
The chamber is collapsing.
And we’re trapped.
—
“Zara.”
Kaelen’s voice is low, urgent. He’s at my side now, his hand on my arm, his eyes scanning the flames. “We need to move. Now.”
“The ledger—”
“Leave it.” He grabs my wrist, pulling me toward a narrow service passage I hadn’t noticed—dark, half-collapsed, but passable. “It’s not worth your life.”
“It’s everything!” I snap, yanking my arm free. “It’s proof! It’s justice! It’s—”
“It’s burning,” he growls, stepping into me, caging me against the wall. “And if you don’t move, you’ll be burning with it.”
My breath hitches. His scent—pine, iron, smoke—floods me. The bond flares, a wave of heat rolling through me, pooling between my thighs. My body betrays me, arching into him, seeking more.
“You don’t understand,” I whisper. “I came here to destroy them. To avenge her. To make them pay.”
“And you will.” His hand slides to my face, his thumb brushing my cheek. “But not like this. Not dead.”
“You let them kill her!” The words tear from my throat before I can stop them. “You were there! You watched them take her! You did nothing!”
He freezes.
Then—
“I didn’t.” His voice is quiet. Final. “I was drugged. Bound. They used my blood to forge my signature, to confirm the execution. I woke up in a cell, my memories wiped, my name on an order I never gave. And when I found out what they’d done—” His hand tightens on my face. “—I wanted to burn the Council to the ground. But I couldn’t. Because if I fell, there’d be no one left to protect the ones they’d come for next.”
My breath stops.
“I loved her,” he says, voice rough. “Like a sister. Like family. And when they took her, they took a piece of me too. But I stayed. I fought. I survived. Because someone had to.”
Tears burn my eyes.
All this time—I’ve hated him. Blamed him. Let the bond twist me into someone I hate.
And he’s been fighting the same war.
“You didn’t sign it,” I whisper.
“No.”
“You didn’t confirm it.”
“No.”
“You were framed.”
“Just like you.”
And then—
The wall explodes.
Flames surge through the passage, cutting off the exit. The heat is unbearable. The air thick with smoke. The ceiling groans, ready to collapse.
“Kaelen—”
He doesn’t let me finish.
He pulls me into him, one arm wrapping around my back, the other cradling my head, shielding me as debris rains down. The bond screams between us—hot, violent, alive. I can feel his heart, his breath, his need.
And then—
His mouth crashes down on mine.
No warning. No hesitation. Just heat and teeth and desperation. His lips are rough, demanding, his tongue sliding against mine like a claim. I gasp, my hands flying to his chest, not to push him away, but to hold on.
He tastes like smoke and iron and something darker—something ancient and wild. The kiss is brutal, raw, a collision of fire and fury. His fangs graze my lip, just enough to sting, just enough to make me whimper.
And then—
I bite him back.
My teeth sink into his lower lip, drawing blood. He growls, the sound vibrating through me, his grip tightening, his body pressing me against the wall.
And then—
His fangs find my neck.
Not breaking the skin.
Not marking me.
Just there. A promise. A threat. A need so deep it feels like a wound.
I don’t pull away.
I tilt my head, baring my throat.
And he takes it.
The bite is sharp, searing, a burst of pain and pleasure that tears a cry from my throat. Fire explodes in my veins, not from magic—from the bond, from the claim, from the truth.
He marks me.
Right there, in the smoke, in the fire, in the ruins of the archive.
A pulse of heat. A rush of power. A scream of triumph from the bond.
And then—
He pulls back, his breath ragged, his eyes dark with something feral, something mine.
“You’re mine,” he breathes, his thumb brushing the fresh mark on my collarbone. “And I will never let you go.”