The cell door slams shut behind Kaelen, and the silence that follows is worse than any scream.
I stay on the cot, back rigid, hands clenched into fists. My body still hums with the ghost of his touch—the weight of his thigh between mine, the heat of his mouth on mine, the way his fingers twisted in my hair like he never meant to let go. My lips tingle. My core aches. And the sigil on my wrist? It’s not fading. It’s glowing, pulsing in time with my heartbeat, warm and insistent, like it’s trying to remind me of something I don’t want to remember.
He wants you.
Not the bond. You.
I shake my head, hard. No. That’s what he wants me to think. That’s how he breaks people—makes them believe the lie until they can’t tell truth from desire. I’ve seen it before. In the Hollow. In the courts of lesser fae who traded their freedom for a whisper of affection. I won’t be one of them.
I came here for revenge.
Not for him.
I push myself up, boots hitting the stone with a sharp crack. The runes on the walls are still dead—my magic burned through them. Good. That means I can still fight. Still run. Still burn.
I pace. Once. Twice. My mind races faster than my feet. The bond is real. That much is undeniable. But bonds can be broken. Magic can be severed. I’ve seen it done—witches who cut their own veins to break blood oaths, werewolves who starved themselves into madness to reject false mates. It’s painful. It’s dangerous. But it’s possible.
I can do it.
I will do it.
And then—
The door opens.
Not Kaelen this time. A guard. Faceless in his black armor, eyes hidden behind a silver visor. He doesn’t speak. Just jerks his head toward the hall.
“You’re summoned,” he says, voice flat. “Council chamber. Now.”
I don’t move. “On whose order?”
“The High Priestess. And the Alpha King.”
Of course.
I exhale through my nose. “Am I being released?”
“You’re being judged.”
My blood goes cold.
Judged. Not freed. Not questioned. Judged. As if I’m already guilty. As if the bond alone is proof of some crime.
I straighten. “Then I’ll walk. But I’m not being dragged.”
The guard hesitates. Then nods. Steps aside.
I walk past him, chin high, shoulders back. I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me afraid. Of seeing me weak. Let them think I’m just a servant. Let them think I’m nothing.
They’ll learn.
The corridors are colder this time, the torchlight dimmer, the air thick with tension. Fae and werewolves alike watch me pass, their whispers sharp as knives.
“Is it true?” one mutters. “The Shadow Fae heir?”
“Impossible,” another hisses. “They were all killed.”
“Then why does the Alpha King claim her as mate?”
“Maybe he wants her power.”
“Or maybe he’s lost his mind.”
I keep walking. Don’t react. Don’t flinch. Let them talk. Let them doubt. Secrets are weapons. And right now, mine are the only ones I can trust.
We reach the council chamber. The same dais from yesterday, the same obsidian thrones, the same floating orbs of violet flame. But the energy is different. Charged. Electric. The High Priestess sits at the center, her silver robes glowing with protective sigils. To her left, the vampire lord, Silas, lounges like this is entertainment. To her right, the witch representative, an ancient crone with eyes like cracked glass, watches me with unnerving stillness. The hybrid seat is empty—typical. They never let us speak.
And then—
Kaelen.
He stands at the foot of the dais, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Gold eyes locked on me. He’s changed—black coat now, open at the throat, revealing the hard lines of his collarbones. He looks like a king. A conqueror. A predator who’s already claimed his prize.
My stomach twists.
I stop at the edge of the dais. The guard takes his place behind me. I don’t need to be told to kneel. I won’t.
The High Priestess rises. Her voice cuts through the silence like a blade.
“Cosmos of the Shadow Fae,” she intones. “You stand accused of infiltration, deception, and violation of the Blood Edict. You have concealed your lineage, breached sacred ground, and provoked a fated bond with the Alpha King of the Moonfangs—”
“Provoked?” I cut in, sharp. “I didn’t provoke anything. I walked into a room, and he grabbed me.”
The chamber erupts. Gasps. Murmurs. Silas smirks.
Kaelen doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak. Just watches me, eyes burning.
The High Priestess slams her staff down. “Silence! You will speak when spoken to, exile.”
I don’t look at her. “Then speak faster. I have places to be.”
Her eyes narrow. “You have no rights. No standing. You are nothing but a ghost of a dead bloodline.”
“Then why am I still breathing?” I ask. “If I’m nothing, why does your precious Alpha King refuse to let me go?”
The room stills.
Even Kaelen stiffens.
The High Priestess glances at him. Then back at me. “The bond is undeniable. The sigil has formed. But that does not make you innocent. The bond can be a trick. A corruption. And if you are not truly his mate, then this is treason of the highest order.”
“And if I am?” I challenge.
“Then you are bound by law. By oath. By the will of the Supernatural Council.”
“To what?”
She lifts her chin. “To marriage.”
The word hits me like a punch.
Marriage.
Not trial. Not execution. Marriage.
I glance at Kaelen. His expression hasn’t changed. But his jaw is tight. His fingers flex at his sides.
He knew.
He knew this was coming.
“You’re joking,” I say, voice flat.
“We do not joke with fate,” the High Priestess says. “The bond must be stabilized. The peace between Fae and werewolves depends on it. If you refuse…”
“Then what?” I snap. “You’ll hang me like you did my mother?”
The chamber goes dead silent.
Even the torches seem to dim.
The High Priestess doesn’t flinch. “Refusal is treason. And treason is punishable by death.”
There it is.
The ultimatum.
Marriage or execution.
I came here to burn their court.
And now they’re giving me a torch.
I turn to Kaelen. “Is this what you wanted? To trap me? To chain me to you in front of them all?”
He finally speaks. Low. Rough. “I didn’t make the law, Cosmos. I’m just enforcing it.”
“You didn’t stop it either.”
“Would you have let me?”
Good question.
Would I?
I look around the chamber. At the faces watching me. At the power that holds my life in its hands. At the bond that burns on my wrist, warm and alive, whispering his, yours, forever in the back of my mind.
I came here for revenge.
But revenge means nothing if I’m dead.
And if I say no?
They’ll kill me.
But if I say yes—
I’ll be his.
Bound. Claimed. Owned.
And yet—
Marriage means access. Means proximity. Means I’ll be at his side, in his bed, in his council. I’ll hear his secrets. See his weaknesses. Learn his patterns.
And when the time comes—
I’ll be the one to burn him down from within.
A slow smile curls my lips.
“Fine,” I say.
The High Priestess blinks. “Fine?”
“I accept.”
“You—what?”
“You heard me. I’ll marry him.”
Kaelen’s eyes narrow. He takes a step forward. “You’re not doing this for peace,” he says, voice low. “You’re doing this for something else.”
“Maybe I am,” I say, stepping closer. Close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off him. Close enough that my voice drops to a whisper only he can hear. “But you’ll never know what it is. Not until it’s too late.”
His jaw clenches. “You think you’re playing me?”
“I know I am.”
For a heartbeat, I think he’ll argue. That he’ll call my bluff. That he’ll demand answers.
But then—
He smirks.
Slow. Dangerous. Like he’s already three moves ahead.
“Then play well, little shadow,” he murmurs. “Because I don’t lose.”
Behind us, the High Priestess clears her throat. “The decree is passed. Cosmos of the Shadow Fae and Kaelen Dain, Alpha King of the Moonfangs, shall be wed within three days’ time. The bond shall be consummated before the Council to ensure its legitimacy.”
Consummated.
The word lands like a stone in my gut.
They want proof. Not just words. Not just vows. They want proof that I’ve given myself to him. That I’ve surrendered.
And if I don’t?
Then the marriage is void.
And I’m dead.
I turn to the High Priestess. “And if the bond isn’t… satisfied?”
“Then it will unravel,” she says. “And both of you will suffer the consequences. Denial causes pain. Madness. Death.”
Kaelen’s gaze flicks to me. “You heard her. We don’t have a choice.”
“We always have a choice,” I say. “I just choose to live.”
“For now.”
“For as long as I need to.”
The High Priestess raises her staff. “The decree is sealed. Guards—escort the bride to her chambers. She is not to leave without escort. She is not to contact any outsiders. She is to prepare for the ceremony.”
Bride.
They’re already calling me a bride.
As if I’ve already given in.
Two guards step forward. I don’t resist as they take my arms. Let them think I’m broken. Let them think I’ve accepted my fate.
But as they lead me from the chamber, I glance back.
Kaelen is still watching me.
And for the first time, I see it—
Not triumph.
Not possession.
But something else.
Something that looks almost like… concern.
I dismiss it instantly. He doesn’t care. He can’t. This is a game to him. A power play. A way to control the bond, control the peace, control me.
But he’s wrong.
Because I’m not his bride.
Not yet.
And when the time comes—
I won’t be his at all.
The guards lead me through twisting corridors, up a narrow staircase, and into a wing of the fortress I’ve never seen. The air is warmer here. Smoother. The walls are lined with dark wood, the floors covered in thick rugs. No runes. No wards. Just luxury.
They stop at a heavy oak door, carved with wolves howling at the moon.
“Your chambers,” one says, unlocking it. “You are not to leave.”
I step inside.
The room is massive. A four-poster bed draped in black silk. A fireplace crackling with blue flame. A balcony overlooking the cliffs and the sea beyond. A dressing table with silver brushes. A wardrobe filled with gowns—black, red, deep violet—all cut for someone smaller, someone delicate.
Not me.
But they’ll do.
The door locks behind me.
I’m alone.
Finally.
I cross to the balcony, throw open the doors, and step into the night. The wind bites at my skin, sharp and cold, but I don’t care. I need air. Need space. Need to think.
I came here to burn their court.
And now I’m their princess.
Engaged to the man I’m supposed to destroy.
Bound by a bond I can’t break.
And in three days—
I have to let him fuck me in front of them all.
I press my hands to the stone railing, breathing hard. My magic churns beneath my skin, restless. The sigil on my wrist pulses, warm and insistent. And then—
A whisper in my mind.
Safe.
Home.
Mine.
I slam my fist into the stone.
“No,” I hiss. “I am not yours.”
But the bond doesn’t listen.
It just pulses.
And I know—
This isn’t over.
It’s only just begun.
I came here to destroy him.
But the bond?
The bond wants me to keep him.
And for the first time—
I’m not sure I want to fight it.