The kiss didn’t last.
It couldn’t. Not here, beneath the silver vines of the moon garden, with the ghosts of my mother’s betrayal whispering through the leaves. Not with Vexis’s voice still echoing in my skull, twisting the truth into something jagged and raw. Not with the bond flaring between us like a live wire, reacting to the softness of her lips, the warmth of her palm against my cheek, the way my body remembered hers even as my mind screamed for distance.
I broke away first.
Not because I didn’t want to. Not because I was afraid.
But because I *wasn’t*.
That was the problem.
For the first time since I’d walked into Shadowveil Court with a dagger and a death wish, I wasn’t fighting the bond. I wasn’t resisting Kael. I was *reaching* for him. And that—more than any lie, any betrayal, any blood-stained secret—terrified me.
I stepped back, my breath unsteady, my fingers trembling. The mark on my collarbone pulsed, warm and alive, but it didn’t burn. Not like before. Now, it felt like… a promise. A pull. A truth I couldn’t outrun.
Kael didn’t move. Just stood there, his coat open, his chest rising and falling too fast, his silver-threaded runes glowing faintly in the moonlight. His eyes—those frozen starlight eyes—were no longer black. They shimmered with silver, the mark in his iris glowing faintly, mirroring the one on my skin.
And for the first time, I saw it.
Not hunger.
Not possession.
Hope.
It gutted me.
“You kissed me,” I whispered, my voice raw. “After everything. After Vexis. After the lies. You *kissed* me.”
“You kissed me first,” he said, his voice low, rough.
“That’s not the point.”
“Then what is?” He stepped closer, his boots silent on the stone. “That I didn’t tell you about Vexis? That I kept the truth from you? I did it to protect you.”
“From what?” I snapped. “The truth? Or from *you*?”
“From *him*,” he said, his voice sharp. “Vexis wants you to hate me. He wants you to destroy the bond so he can take the throne. He used your mother’s death to manipulate you, to turn you against me. And if you’d known too soon—”
“Then what?” I challenged. “I wouldn’t have trusted you? I wouldn’t have *felt* this?” I gestured between us, at the bond, at the air that still hummed with magic. “You think I don’t know how this works? You think I don’t know that the bond feeds on conflict? On tension? On *pain*?”
He didn’t flinch. “And what if it also feeds on truth?”
I stared at him. “You’re asking me to believe you. To trust you. To *choose* you. But you don’t even know who I am.”
“I know enough,” he said. “I know you came here to kill me. I know you’d do it again if you could. I know you hate me.”
“And yet you keep me close.”
“Because the bond demands it,” he said. “And because I’m selfish enough to want you near, even if you despise me.”
My breath caught.
Not from anger.
From *truth*.
He wasn’t lying. I could feel it in the bond, in the way his pulse hitched when I stepped closer, in the way his hand twitched toward mine. He *wanted* me. Not as a pawn. Not as a weapon. But as *his*.
And gods help me, I wanted to be.
But I couldn’t.
Not yet.
“The Council wants us,” I said, turning away. “We should go.”
He didn’t argue. Just fell into step beside me, our boots clicking against the stone in perfect sync. The bond pulsed between us—tense, aching, alive—but neither of us spoke. The weight of what had just happened—the kiss, the truth, the *choice*—was too heavy for words.
The Obsidian Spire loomed ahead, its jagged peak piercing the moonlit sky. The air grew colder as we approached, the scent of sacred iron sharp in my nose. The guards at the gate bowed as we passed, their eyes flicking to me with suspicion, with awe.
We entered the grand chamber, the floor a mosaic of black and silver, the walls lined with floating candles that cast long, shifting shadows. The Council was already assembled—seven figures in a semicircle, their faces half-hidden in shadow. Lady Isolde sat at the center, her silver hair coiled like a crown, her eyes sharp. To her right, the High Priestess of the Grey Coven, her face veiled, her hands stained with ritual ink. The others—Alpha, Summer Fae, Winter Court, Rogue Witches, Human Accord—remained silent, watching.
And then—
The hybrid seat.
Still empty.
But not for long.
“Prince Kael,” Lady Isolde said, her voice echoing through the chamber. “You bring your fated mate. Explain.”
“We’re here for Vexis’s message,” I said, stepping forward. “Not for your games.”
The High Priestess turned to me, her voice like smoke. “You swore a blood oath. You are bound to the Council. And now, you will answer for your actions.”
My breath caught. “What actions?”
“The attack on Mira Thorne,” the Alpha rumbled. “The public display of violence. The *biting* of your fated mate.”
“I didn’t attack Mira,” I said, my voice steady. “She provoked me. She lied. She tried to break the bond.”
“And the bite?” Lady Isolde asked. “Was that also provoked?”
I didn’t answer. Just looked at Kael.
He stepped forward, his presence like a storm. “She bit me because I kissed her. Because the bond demanded it. Because *I* demanded it.”
“You *allowed* it?” the Summer Fae purred. “A prince, letting a hybrid draw his blood?”
“I *wanted* it,” Kael said, his voice cold. “And if you have a problem with that, take it up with me. Not her.”
Silence.
And then—
“She’s not a spy,” a voice said.
We turned.
Silas stood in the doorway, his golden wolf eyes sharp, his stance relaxed but ready. He stepped forward, his boots silent on the stone, his gaze sweeping the Council.
“She’s not here to destroy you,” he said. “She’s fighting the same chains we are.”
“And how would you know?” the Winter Court representative asked, her voice like ice.
“Because I’ve *seen* her,” Silas said. “I’ve seen the way she fights. The way she resists. The way she *survives*.” He turned to me, his gaze steady. “She came here to kill you, yes. But not because she’s a threat. Because she’s a *victim*.”
My breath caught.
Not from shock.
From *recognition*.
He saw me. Not the assassin. Not the hybrid. Not the fated mate.
He saw *me*.
“The Blood Oath was used to control her bloodline,” Silas continued. “Her mother was executed for loving a vampire. Not for rebellion. For *love*. And now, she’s trapped in the same web.”
“And you believe her?” Lady Isolde asked.
“I believe the bond,” Silas said. “I’ve watched it. I’ve felt it. It’s not a lie. It’s not manipulation. It’s *real*. And if you try to break it, you’ll start a war.”
The Council was silent.
And then—
“Enough,” Lady Isolde said. “The matter is closed. The truce stands. The bond is recognized. You are both dismissed.”
We turned to leave.
But Silas didn’t move. Just stood there, his gaze locked on mine.
“Wait,” he said.
Kael stopped, but didn’t turn. I did.
“You’re not what I expected,” Silas said, his voice low.
“Neither are you,” I replied.
He almost smiled. “Don’t let them break you.”
“I won’t.”
And then he was gone, striding down the hall, his wolf-shadow flickering behind him.
We walked in silence through the corridors, the bond humming between us like a live wire. I could feel Kael—his presence, his tension, the way his breath hitched when my arm brushed against his. But he didn’t speak. Didn’t touch me. Just walked beside me, his coat flaring behind him, the silver runes glowing faintly in the dim light.
When we reached his chambers, he stopped, turning to face me. The guards opened the door, then stepped back, their eyes down.
“Go inside,” he said. “Rest. I’ll send someone with food.”
I didn’t move. “You’re not coming in?”
“I have business to attend to.”
“More Council meetings? More lies?”
He turned, his eyes silver, the mark in his iris glowing faintly. “Survival, Avalon. Not lies. *Survival.*”
“And what about us?” I whispered. “What about the kiss? The truth? The *choice*?”
His expression didn’t change. But his hand twitched—just slightly—toward mine. “That’s not something we discuss in hallways.”
And then he was gone, striding down the corridor, his boots echoing like a death knell.
I stepped inside, the door clicking shut behind me. The room was cold, the hearth unlit, the balcony doors sealed against the night. I didn’t bother with the bed. Just sank into the chair by the window, the Blood Oath ledger still clutched in my lap. The vellum was warm beneath my fingers, the embossed crescent and thorn pressing into my skin like a brand.
The ritual had changed nothing.
And everything.
I’d come here to kill Kael. To break the Oath. To avenge my mother.
But now—
Now I knew the truth. Vexis had ordered her death. Not for rebellion. For love. And Kael—he hadn’t known. Not for certain. But he’d suspected. And he’d kept it from me. Not to manipulate me. Not to control me.
To protect me.
And Silas—
He’d defended me. Not as a pawn. Not as a tool. But as a *person*.
I squeezed my eyes shut.
No. I couldn’t think like that. I couldn’t *feel* like that. This was a trap. A manipulation. The bond was feeding on my grief, my loneliness, my *need*. It wanted me to believe in us. To trust him. To lower my guard.
And if I did—
I’d be just like my mother.
Executed for loving a monster.
I stood abruptly, pacing the room, my boots clicking against the stone. The mark on my collarbone throbbed, a dull, persistent heat. My palm—where the Blood Oath scar ran—tingled, the red glow now faded, but the memory of it fresh in my mind. Something had awakened in me the night of the storm. Something old. Something powerful.
And I didn’t know what it meant.
I stopped before the mirror, gripping the edge of the vanity. My reflection stared back—silver-lavender eyes wide, dark waves tangled, lips still slightly swollen from the kiss. I looked… haunted. Not by the visions. Not by the blood.
By *him*.
And then—
A knock at the door.
“Lady Avalon,” a voice called. “You have a visitor.”
I didn’t answer. Just straightened my spine, wiped the emotion from my face, and said, “Enter.”
The door opened.
And *she* walked in.
Elara.
My mentor. My guide. The woman who had sent me on this mission. The one who had taught me to fight, to survive, to *hate*.
She looked the same—tall, elegant, her silver hair coiled like a crown, her eyes sharp with calculation. But something was different. Not in her appearance. In her *presence*. The air around her hummed with magic, thick and old, laced with something darker, something *familiar*.
“Avalon,” she said, her voice like smoke. “You look… fragile.”
I didn’t answer. Just stared at her, my fingers twitching toward the dagger.
“The bond suits you,” she continued, stepping inside. “It’s made you stronger. More dangerous.”
“And you’re here to what?” I said. “Inspect your work?”
“I’m here to warn you,” she said. “Vexis is not to be trusted. Neither is Kael.”
“And you are?”
She smiled. Slow. Sharp. “I’m the only one who’s ever told you the truth.”
“You told me to kill him,” I said. “You told me the Oath was a curse. That my mother died for rebellion.”
“And it *is* a curse,” she said. “And she *did* die for rebellion. Just not the one you think.”
My breath caught. “What do you mean?”
She stepped closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The Blood Oath wasn’t just about control. It was about *power*. About breaking the bond between vampire and witch. About severing the line that could destroy them all.”
“And I’m that line?”
“You’re the key,” she said. “The only one who can break it. Not with a dagger. Not with blood. But with *truth*.”
My breath caught.
Not from shock.
From *recognition*.
Kael had said the same thing.
And for the first time, I wondered—
Was I the hunter?
Or was I the prey?