The morning after the full moon, the bond still hums beneath my skin like a live wire.
It’s quieter now—dulled by exhaustion, by the long, sleepless night spent trembling on the edge of a bed I never should’ve shared. But it’s not gone. It never is. Just beneath the surface, a low, insistent pulse, like a second heartbeat. Like a reminder.
You’re his.
I don’t say it out loud. I don’t even think it. But it’s there, in the way my body still aches from unmet need, in the way my magic flares when I remember the heat of his hand on my neck, the brush of his lips against mine, the way he pulled back—just in time—like he knew exactly how close I was to breaking.
I hate that he knows.
I hate that he saw me tremble.
I hate that, for one breathless moment, I wanted him to kiss me anyway.
The sun hasn’t fully risen, but the Spire is already alive with movement—footsteps echoing through the corridors, the distant murmur of voices, the clink of ceremonial armor. Today is the Council’s weekly alignment ritual, where the five seats reaffirm their loyalty to the Purity Edict. A farce. A performance. But one I have to attend, because as Kaelen’s “intended,” I’m expected to stand beside him like some obedient trophy.
I dress quickly—black trousers, a high-collared tunic, boots laced tight. No silk. No velvet. No masquerade. Today, I’m not Lady Selene. Today, I’m Zara. And I will not be played.
I leave my suite without looking in the mirror. I don’t need to see the shadows under my eyes, the flush still lingering on my skin, the way my lips are slightly swollen—whether from biting them or from the ghost of his mouth, I don’t know.
The corridor is dim, lit only by the faint glow of embedded runes in the stone. I move fast, head down, hands clenched at my sides. I don’t want to see him. Don’t want to feel the bond flare when he’s near. Don’t want to remember the way he whispered, “You’re not as cold as you pretend,” like he’d already won.
But then—
A sound.
Soft. Familiar.
Laughter.
Female.
I freeze.
It’s coming from Kaelen’s private chambers—just ahead, the heavy oak door slightly ajar. And with it, the scent.
Jasmine.
Sweet. Cloying.
Mira.
My stomach drops.
No.
Not now. Not here.
I should turn around. Walk away. Pretend I didn’t hear. Pretend I don’t care.
But I do.
And that’s the problem.
Before I can stop myself, I step forward, silent as smoke, and peer through the crack in the door.
The room is vast—black stone walls, a massive hearth, a bed draped in dark furs. And there, in the center of it all, is her.
Mira Solen.
She’s stepping out of the bathing chamber, wrapped in nothing but a towel—her platinum hair damp, her violet eyes gleaming, her body pale and flawless. And over her arm—his shirt.
Black. Linen. The sleeves rolled up, the buttons undone. The same one he wore last night.
She hums as she dries her hair, then drops the towel and slips the shirt on, letting it hang loose, the fabric barely covering her thighs. She buttons it slowly—just one, just enough to tease. Then she turns, catching her reflection in the mirror, and smiles.
“Perfect,” she murmurs.
My hands curl into fists. My breath comes short. My vision narrows.
She wasn’t here last night.
She couldn’t have been. I was in his room. I felt his heat. I heard his voice. I know he didn’t leave.
But this?
This is a message.
A challenge.
A lie, wrapped in silk and scent.
And before I can stop myself, I push the door open.
She turns, startled, then smiles when she sees me. “Zara. How lovely to see you.”
“What are you doing here?” My voice is ice.
“Oh, this?” She gestures to the shirt, running her hands down the fabric. “Kaelen let me borrow it. We had such a long night. You wouldn’t believe the things he said.”
“I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.”
“Mmm.” She steps closer, her scent wrapping around me—jasmine, fae magic, something cloyingly sweet. “But you believe the bond, don’t you? The way it flares when he touches you? The way your body betrays you?” She tilts her head. “Funny. He never flinches when I touch him.”
“He’s not your mate.”
“No.” She smiles, slow and venomous. “But he was in my bed. He fed me his blood. He called me beautiful.” She lifts her wrist, showing the silver serpent ring again. “He gave me this. Said it was time to make things official.”
“He gave me a ring too,” I lie, my voice steady. “It’s just… too precious to wear in public.”
Her smile falters. Just for a second. Then she laughs. “Oh, darling. You’re good. I’ll give you that. But you’re not his. Not really. He tolerates you because of the bond. But he wants me. He craves me. And when he finally realizes that, you’ll be nothing but a stain on his legacy.”
“You’re delusional.”
“Am I?” She steps even closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Or are you just afraid to admit that you’re not enough? That no matter how much you hate him, no matter how much you fight it—you’ll never be what he really needs?”
My magic flares—just a spark, a flicker of heat in my palms. The air between us shimmers.
She doesn’t flinch. Just smiles. “Go ahead. Burn me. See what happens when the Council finds out the Alpha’s mate attacked a noble in his own chambers.”
I clench my fists, forcing the fire down.
She’s right. I can’t touch her. Not here. Not without proof.
But I can leave.
I turn and walk out, my boots clicking on stone, my spine rigid, my breath steady.
But inside—
I’m screaming.
Not because I believe her.
Not because I think Kaelen touched her.
But because, for the first time, I feel it—jealousy.
Hot. Visceral. Uncontrollable.
I didn’t want to care. I didn’t want to feel. But I do. And the worst part?
I don’t know if it’s because I hate her.
Or because I hate that I care at all.
—
I don’t go to the alignment ritual.
Instead, I walk. Through the lower levels of the Spire, past the training grounds, the armories, the blood bars where vampires feed on willing humans in exchange for coin or secrets. The air grows colder, the walls rougher, the magic thinner. This is the underbelly of the city—the place where hybrids are kept, where secrets are traded, where the Council’s lies fester like open wounds.
I don’t have a plan. I don’t have a goal. I just need to move. Need to burn off the heat, the anger, the need that won’t let me go.
And then—
A hand grabs my arm.
I spin, magic flaring, ready to strike—
“Zara.”
Kaelen.
He’s in full armor, his expression unreadable, his storm-gray eyes dark with something I can’t name. Relief? Anger? Need?
“You weren’t at the ritual,” he says.
“I had other things to do.”
“Like eavesdropping on my chambers?”
My breath catches. “I wasn’t—”
“Don’t lie.” He steps closer, his voice low. “I know you saw her. I know what she said.”
“Then explain it.” My voice is sharp. “Explain why she was wearing your shirt. Why she has your ring. Why she claims you fed her your blood.”
“Because she’s a liar.” He grips my arm, not hard, but firm. “She stole that shirt from a servant. The ring is a fake—Northern sigil, but the silver’s wrong. And the blood-sharing? She tried to force it. I broke her wrist before she could bite me.”
I stare at him. “And you didn’t stop her?”
“I didn’t know she was there until this morning.” He leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “I was with you. Remember? Trapped in that room. Fighting the heat. Fighting the bond. Fighting you.”
My pulse stutters.
He’s telling the truth.
I can feel it in the bond—in the way his emotions bleed through: frustration, anger, but beneath it, something else. Devotion.
But I don’t want to believe it.
“Then why let her stay?” I whisper. “Why not expose her?”
“Because she’s bait.” His thumb brushes my pulse. “And I’m waiting to see who takes it.”
“Vexis.”
He nods. “He’s using her to get to us. To weaken the bond. To make you doubt me.”
“And is it working?”
He searches my face. “Is it?”
I don’t answer.
Because I don’t know.
And that terrifies me.
“You think I’d betray you?” he asks, voice rough. “After everything? After the library? After last night?”
“I don’t know what to think.”
“Then feel this.”
Before I can react, he pulls me against him, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip, his body hard and unyielding. The bond flares—hot, violent, hungry. My breath hitches. My core clenches. My magic surges, a wave of heat rolling through me.
And then—
His mouth crashes down on mine.
No warning. No hesitation. Just heat and teeth and need. 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, desperate, a battle for control. His fangs graze my lip, just enough to sting, just enough to make me whimper.
And then—
His hand slides under my shirt, fingers burning over my stomach, my ribs, my breast—
And the world explodes.
Heat. Light. Fire.
My magic ignites—just for a second, a burst of red-gold flame that licks up my arms, searing the air between us.
He doesn’t flinch. Doesn’t pull back.
He just growls into my mouth, his hand tightening, his body pressing me against the wall.
And then—
He stops.
Breaks the kiss. Steps back.
My breath comes in ragged gasps. My lips are swollen. My body aches. My core throbs with a need so deep it feels like a wound.
He stares at me, his eyes dark, his chest heaving. “You feel that?” he asks, voice rough. “That fire? That need? That’s not her. That’s us.”
“You don’t get to do that,” I whisper.
“I do.” He steps closer, his thumb brushing my lower lip. “Because you’re mine. And no matter how much you hate me, no matter how much you fight it—you’ll never belong to anyone else.”
“I don’t belong to you.”
“Liar.” He leans in, his lips hovering over mine. “You’re already mine. You just haven’t admitted it yet.”
And before I can respond, he turns and walks away, leaving me trembling in the shadows, my body humming with the ghost of his touch, my mind screaming one word—
Yes.
—
That night, I dream of fire.
Of him.
Of a mark burning into my skin, of fangs at my throat, of a voice whispering, “You’re mine.”
I wake drenched in sweat, my heart racing, my body aching.
And in the silence, beneath the fury and the fear and the mission—
I feel it.
The truth.
The bond.
And the fire that will either consume us both…
Or make us unbreakable.