The moment I see her with the pack slung over her shoulder, moonsteel dagger strapped to her thigh, and that vial of Vexis’s blood clutched in her fist like a weapon—something inside me snaps.
Not the wolf.
Not the vampire.
The man.
She’s not running.
She’s not hiding.
She’s going to war.
And she thinks she has to do it alone.
“You’re not leaving without me,” I say, stepping into the chamber, my voice low, final.
Zara doesn’t look at me. Just adjusts the strap of her pack, her storm-gray eyes fixed on the door. “I didn’t say I was leaving. I said I was going to war.”
“And I’m coming.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know.” I close the distance between us, my hands settling on her shoulders, my breath warm against the mark on her collarbone. “But I want to. Because this isn’t just your fight. It’s ours.”
She finally turns, her eyes blazing with something fierce, something free. “You don’t get to say that. You don’t get to claim this like it’s yours. You didn’t watch her die. You didn’t spend your life running. You didn’t—”
“No,” I interrupt, my grip tightening. “But I was there. I saw it. I felt it. I carried it. And I didn’t speak because I was powerless. Not weak. Not cowardly. Powerless. They used my blood. My name. My body. To sign the order. To confirm the execution. To make me believe I’d done it.”
Her breath hitches.
“And when I found out,” I continue, voice rough, “I wanted to burn the Council to the ground. But I didn’t. Because if I fell, there’d be no one left to protect the ones they’d come for next. No one to shield the hybrids. No one to fight the lies. So I stayed. I bled. I survived. For you.”
She stares at me—really stares—and for the first time, I see it.
Not defiance.
Not rage.
Doubt.
“You stayed… for me?”
“Not just you.” I cup her face, my thumb brushing her lower lip. “For every hybrid they’ve hunted. For every witch they’ve burned. For every wolf they’ve caged. But yes. For you too. Because even then, I felt it. The bond. A whisper. A pulse. A truth I couldn’t name.”
She doesn’t pull away.
Just leans into my touch, her breath warm against my palm. “And Mira?”
The name is a blade.
But I don’t flinch.
“She drugged me.”
“I know.”
“You believe me?”
“I saw the vial. I know the compound. But I also know you.” Her hand lifts, fingers brushing the scar on my chest—the one from the Blood Pit, where a thrall’s claw had torn through muscle and bone. “You don’t flinch from pain. You don’t hide from fight. But you do this—” Her thumb traces the edge of the scar. “You carry it. Like it means something.”
“It does.”
“Then why didn’t you stop her?” she whispers. “When she was on her knees. When her lips were on your skin. Why didn’t you push her away?”
My jaw tightens.
Because the truth is worse than she thinks.
“I was drugged,” I say. “But not unconscious. Not helpless. I was… trapped. In my body. In my mind. I could see. Could feel. Could hear. But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. Couldn’t stop.”
Her eyes widen.
“She used a paralysis serum laced with pleasure-inducing magic,” I continue. “Fae in origin. Vampire refined. It kept me awake, aware, while my body responded to her touch. Not because I wanted it. Not because I welcomed it. But because the magic forced it. Made my skin burn. My breath catch. My hands… move.”
Her breath stops.
“I hated it,” I say, voice raw. “Every second. Every breath. Every lie she whispered in my ear. But I couldn’t stop it. And when it was over, she took the recording. Used it. Weaponized it. Just like she weaponized the poison. Just like she weaponized the Council’s fear of hybrids.”
“And you didn’t tell me.”
“I didn’t know she had the recording. Not until now. But I should have guessed. I should have protected you from this.”
She doesn’t answer.
Just stares at me, her storm-gray eyes searching mine, the bond humming between us like a live wire. And then—
She steps into me.
Not to fight.
Not to test.
To hold on.
Her arms wrap around my waist, her face burying in my chest, her body trembling. Not from cold. Not from fear.
From rage.
“She used you,” she whispers. “Just like they used me. Just like they used my mother. They took your choice. Your voice. Your truth. And they turned it into a weapon.”
“Yes.”
“And you still fought.”
“Always.”
She looks up at me, her eyes stormy, fierce. “Then we fight back. Not just for me. Not just for you. For everyone they’ve broken. Everyone they’ve silenced. We burn the lie. We expose the truth. And we make them pay.”
“Together?” I ask.
“Always.”
And for the first time, I believe it.
—
We go to the Council Hall at dusk.
Not through the underpaths. Not in silence.
Through the front gates.
Armed.
Visible.
Unafraid.
Zara walks beside me, her back straight, her chin high, the vial of Vexis’s blood in her hand, the ledger in her pack. She’s not Lady Selene. Not the hidden hybrid. Not the avenger in the shadows.
She’s Zara Ember.
Daughter of Lysara.
Heir of the Bloodline.
And she’s done hiding.
The Council Chamber is already in session—five seats filled, the air thick with tension, the central crystal pulsing with the forged video of Mira and me. The Oracle sits in her silver throne, her eyes closed, her hands folded. Lord Vexis is there too—under house arrest, but still smug, still dangerous, his crimson eyes glowing in the dim light.
And Mira—
She’s not in white.
Not in innocence.
She’s in black silk, her platinum hair cascading over one shoulder, her violet eyes gleaming with victory. She sits beside the Fae representative, close enough to whisper, close enough to be seen.
As we enter, the chamber falls silent.
All eyes turn to us.
“You’re not permitted here,” the Oracle says, her voice echoing through the hall. “The Alpha is suspended. The hybrid is under investigation for treason.”
“Then investigate,” Zara says, stepping forward, her voice clear, strong. “But first, you’ll hear the truth.”
“The truth?” Mira laughs, sweet, melodic. “The truth is on the crystal. Your mate was with me. He touched me. He let me worship him. And you—” She turns to me, her eyes soft, wounded. “—you said my name. You said you needed me.”
My jaw tightens.
But Zara doesn’t flinch.
She lifts the vial.
“This,” she says, “is Lord Vexis’s blood. Drawn from the Blood Pit. Tested by Elder Witch Orin Solen. It contains a memory suppressant used to erase hybrid identities. A compound stolen from Council medical stores. Altered. Weaponized.”
Gasps ripple through the chamber.
“And this,” she continues, pulling the ledger from her pack, “is the original record of hybrid executions. Signed by Vexis. With a note beneath—Forged. Blood stolen. K.D. not present. Proof that Kaelen Dain did not sign the order for my mother’s death. That he was framed. That he was used.”
“Lies!” Vexis snarls, rising from his seat. “Forged evidence! Stolen records! The bond has clouded her judgment. She’s unstable. Dangerous.”
“Then test it,” Zara says, stepping forward. “Let the blood be analyzed. Let the ledger be verified. Let the truth be known.”
“And the video?” the Fae representative asks, her voice cool. “What of that?”
Zara turns to Mira. “You drugged him. Paralyzed him. Used pleasure magic to force his body to respond. And then you recorded it. To humiliate him. To destroy us. To take his power.”
“I loved him,” Mira says, her voice trembling. “And he loved me. You’re just jealous. A half-breed witch who can’t control her fire. Who can’t control her man.”
The chamber erupts—voices rising, accusations flying, the air thick with magic and tension.
And then—
I step forward.
Not as the Alpha.
Not as the enforcer.
As the man.
“I was drugged,” I say, my voice cutting through the noise like a blade. “Paralyzed. Awake. Aware. I felt every touch. Every lie. Every second of it. And I hated it. Not because she wasn’t beautiful. Not because I didn’t respond. But because I had no choice. No voice. No control. And she took that. Used it. Just like she used the poison. Just like she used the Council’s fear.”
“Prove it,” Vexis sneers. “Show us this so-called serum. Show us the test.”
“I can’t,” I say. “The serum was destroyed. But the effects remain. My body remembers. My blood remembers. And the bond—” I turn to Zara, my hand finding hers, the connection flaring between us—“—it remembers too. It knew she was lying. It knew I was trapped. It screamed for her. For truth.”
“Then let the bond decide,” the Oracle says, rising. “Let the fated connection reveal the truth. If he speaks true, the bond will flare. If not—” Her eyes turn red. “—it will burn.”
Zara doesn’t hesitate.
She steps forward, her hand lifting to my face, her thumb brushing my lower lip. “Then let it burn.”
And she kisses me.
No warning. No hesitation. Just heat and need and something deeper—something fierce, something protective. Her lips are soft, demanding, her tongue sliding against mine like a claim. I gasp, my hands flying to her waist, not to control, not to dominate, but to hold on.
She tastes like smoke and iron and something darker—something ancient and wild. The kiss is slow, deep, a collision of fire and fury. Her fangs graze my lip, just enough to sting, just enough to make me growl.
And then—
The bond explodes.
Not a pulse.
Not a flare.
A blaze.
Heat. Light. Fire.
It rips through the chamber, shaking the walls, shattering the crystal, silencing every voice. The ledger glows in Zara’s pack. The vial in her hand pulses with crimson light. And the mark on her collarbone—
It burns.
Not with pain.
With truth.
When we break the kiss, the chamber is silent.
No whispers. No accusations. No lies.
Just the hum of the bond, steady, strong, unbroken.
“The bond has spoken,” the Oracle says, her voice hollow. “He speaks true.”
Mira rises, her face twisted with fury. “You think this changes anything? You think love saves you? You’re still a hybrid. Still a traitor. Still doomed.”
“No,” Zara says, stepping forward, her storm-gray eyes blazing. “I’m not doomed. I’m not broken. I’m not afraid. And I’m not alone.” She turns to me, her hand finding mine. “He didn’t sign the order. He didn’t confirm it. He was framed. Just like me. And now—” Her voice rises, echoing through the hall. “—we’re going to make them pay.”
“You’ll be executed,” Vexis hisses.
“Then execute me,” she says. “But know this—my fire won’t die with me. My blood won’t fade. And the truth?” She lifts the ledger. “It’s already free.”
And for the first time, I see it.
Not just the woman I love.
Not just my mate.
A leader.
A revolution.
A fire that will burn the Council to the ground.
And I will stand in the ashes with her.
Always.
—
That night, we return to the chambers.
No silence. No distance.
Just fire.
She doesn’t speak.
Just turns, her hands going to the buttons of her tunic.
“What are you doing?” I ask, voice rough.
“Taking back what’s mine.”
She strips—slow, deliberate, her storm-gray eyes locked on mine. Boots. Tunic. Trousers. Until she’s bare, the mark on her collarbone pulsing, her skin glowing in the firelight.
And then—
She steps into me.
Her hands slide up my chest, over my shoulders, to my neck—just like in the library. Not choking. Not hurting. Claiming. Her thumb brushes my pulse.
“You feel that?” she asks, voice low. “Your heart. Racing. Not from the heat.”
“No.”
“You’re not feral.”
“No.”
“You’re not lost.”
“No.”
“You’re here.”
“Yes.”
She smiles—just slightly. Not a victory. Not a challenge.
Something softer.
Something real.
And then—
She kisses me.
And the world burns.