The Iron Crypts breathed.
Not with air. Not with life.
With memory.
Every step we took echoed through the tunnels like a heartbeat—slow, deliberate, watching. The walls were slick with moss and ancient blood, the torchlight flickering against stone carved with sigils older than the Concord. Avalon walked beside me, her boots silent, her hand resting on the hilt of the relic dagger strapped to her thigh. The bond hummed between us—hot, alive, real—but it wasn’t just the magic I felt.
It was her.
The way she moved—like a storm held at bay. The way she looked at me—no longer with hatred, but with something fiercer. Something trusting. She had claimed me. She had saved me. She had chosen me.
And I—
I would burn the world before I let her fall.
Silas led the way, his wolf-shadow flickering at the edge of the torchlight, his golden eyes scanning the darkness. The guards followed, silent, obedient, their weapons drawn. We had come to the heart of the Crypts—to the Oath Stone, the ledger, the source of the curse that had bound her bloodline. But Vexis wasn’t here.
Not yet.
But he was close.
“He’s testing us,” I said, my voice low. “Waiting to see how far we’ll go.”
“Then let’s give him a show,” Avalon said, her voice sharp, edged with fire. “Let him see what happens when he tries to break what’s already unbreakable.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Instead, I reached for her, my fingers brushing hers. The bond flared—hot, immediate—and she didn’t pull away. Just leaned into the touch, her breath hitching, her eyes locking onto mine. For a second, the world stopped. No war. No Oath. No past.
Just us.
And then—
“My lord.”
The voice came from the shadows—smooth, familiar, laced with something I hadn’t heard in centuries.
Desire.
I turned.
And there she was.
Mira.
Her hair was the color of midnight, her skin like porcelain, her lips painted blood-red. She wore a gown of black silk that clung to her curves, the neckline plunging, the hem slit to the thigh. But it wasn’t her beauty that made my breath catch.
It was the scent.
Not just her perfume—jasmine and decay—but the faint, unmistakable trace of my blood on her skin.
My fangs dropped.
Not from hunger.
From warning.
“You’re not welcome here,” I said, stepping in front of Avalon, my coat flaring behind me, the silver runes glowing faintly in the dim light.
Mira didn’t flinch. Just smiled—a slow, knowing curve of her lips—and stepped forward, her heels clicking against the stone. “And yet, here I am. Invited, even.”
“By whom?”
“By the only one who still remembers what you were before her,” she said, her gaze flicking past me to Avalon. “Before the half-breed claimed you.”
Avalon didn’t move. Just stood there, her hand on the dagger, her eyes silver-lavender, unblinking. But I could feel her—the bond tightening, pulsing with something dark, something jealous.
And gods help me—I liked it.
“You’re lying,” I said. “No one summoned you.”
“Oh, but they did,” she said, stepping closer, her scent wrapping around me like a noose. “Your uncle, Kael. Vexis. He sent me. To remind you… of your duty.”
My jaw clenched.
Not from anger.
From recognition.
She was a pawn. A weapon. Sent to weaken me. To make me doubt. To drive a wedge between Avalon and me.
And it wouldn’t work.
“Leave,” I said. “Now.”
“Or what?” she purred, stepping so close I could feel the heat of her body, the way her breath ghosted over my neck. “You’ll punish me? You’ll feed on me? You’ll do the things you used to do when I was your Blood Consort?”
My fangs ached.
Not from want.
From memory.
She had been mine once. Not in love. Not in truth. But in convenience. A distraction. A tool. I had fed from her. Let her feed from me. Let her believe she meant something.
And then I had cast her aside.
Because she wasn’t her.
And now—
Now she was here to make me remember.
“You don’t belong in this world anymore,” I said, my voice low, rough. “You made your choice when you joined the Dark Council.”
“And you made yours,” she said, her hand rising, her fingers brushing the mark on my chest—the scar from the battle on the ridge. “But look at you. Wounded. Weak. Letting a hybrid dictate your every move.”
I didn’t pull away.
Just let her touch me.
Let her feel the truth.
“I’m not weak,” I said. “I’m alive. And she didn’t dictate anything. She chose me. And I chose her.”
Her smile faltered.
Just for a second.
But it was enough.
“Then prove it,” she whispered, stepping even closer, her body pressing against mine. “Kiss me. Just once. Let me taste you. Let me remind you what it felt like to be desired.”
I didn’t move.
Just stood there, my body rigid, my breath steady.
Behind me, Avalon didn’t speak. Didn’t shift. But I could feel her—the bond flaring, the air crackling, the silence so thick it felt like a scream.
And then—
Mira kissed me.
Not on the lips.
On the neck.
Her mouth was soft, warm, her lips parting just enough to let her fangs graze my skin. A tease. A threat. A claim.
And I—
I didn’t stop her.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I needed to see.
Needed to know if the bond would break. If the magic would falter. If my body would betray me.
It didn’t.
The moment her fangs touched my skin, the bond screamed.
Fire ripped through my veins, magic surging from Avalon like a storm, the sigils on the floor flaring silver, the air crackling with power. I gasped, not from pleasure, but from truth. My body rejected her. Not just as a lover. As a threat.
And then—
I pushed her away.
Not hard. Not violent.
But final.
“You’re nothing to me,” I said, my voice guttural, inhuman. “You never were. And if Vexis sent you to weaken me, he failed. Because I am not the man I was. I am not the monster I feared I was. I am hers.”
She stumbled back, her eyes wide, her breath unsteady. For the first time, I saw it—
Fear.
Not of me.
Of what I had become.
“You’ll regret this,” she whispered. “You’ll miss the power. The control. The freedom.”
“I already have it,” I said. “And it has a name.”
And then—
“Kael.”
Avalon’s voice.
Not angry. Not cold.
Quiet.
And that was worse.
I turned.
She was already walking away, her boots clicking against the stone, her back straight, her head high. She didn’t look at me. Didn’t stop.
Just left.
And I—
I let her.
Because I knew.
This wasn’t about Mira.
It was about trust.
And she needed to see that I wouldn’t chase her.
That I would wait.
That I would choose her.
“Go,” I said to Silas. “Make sure she’s safe.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded, his golden eyes sharp, and followed her into the shadows.
And then—
“You really love her, don’t you?” Mira said, her voice quiet now. Not mocking. Not seductive.
Just sad.
I turned back to her, my eyes silver, the mark in my iris glowing faintly. “I do. And if you ever touch me again, I’ll kill you.”
She didn’t flinch. Just stepped back, her gown whispering against the stone. “Then you’ve already won. Because love is the one thing Vexis can’t control.”
And then she was gone, her shadow dissolving into the darkness.
I stood there for a long moment, the bond still humming, the air thick with magic. My neck still burned where she’d touched me, but it wasn’t her mark I felt.
It was Avalon’s.
The bond flared—hot, insistent—and I knew.
She was testing me.
And I had passed.
But it wasn’t over.
I found her in the central chamber—the cavern of black marble and silver flame, the Oath Stone pulsing like a heart. She stood before the altar, her back to me, her hand resting on the relic dagger. The torchlight flickered against her skin, the mark on her collarbone glowing faintly, the bond thrumming between us like a second heartbeat.
I didn’t speak. Just stepped forward, my boots silent on the stone, and stopped behind her.
“You didn’t stop her,” she said, her voice low.
“No,” I said. “I didn’t.”
“And you let her touch you.”
“I did.”
She turned then, her silver-lavender eyes locking onto mine. “Why?”
“Because I needed to know,” I said. “Needed to feel it. The bond. The truth. That my body would reject her. That my blood would scream for you. That no matter what she did, I would still be yours.”
Her breath caught.
Not from anger.
From recognition.
“And did it?” she whispered. “Did your body reject her?”
“It screamed for you,” I said. “The moment her fangs touched my skin, the bond flared. Fire in my veins. Magic in the air. I could feel you—your power, your fury, your love. And I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
She didn’t move. Just stood there, her hand still on the dagger, her eyes searching mine. And then—
She stepped forward.
Not to strike. Not to push.
To touch.
Her fingers rose, slow, deliberate, and brushed the spot on my neck where Mira had kissed me. The skin was unbroken. No mark. No wound.
But she pressed her palm there anyway.
And then—
The bond screamed.
Fire ripped through my veins, magic surging between us, lighting the sigils on the floor until the entire chamber blazed with silver light. I gasped, my body arching toward her, my fangs dropping, my hands gripping her waist.
“You feel it,” she said, her voice rough. “You feel me.”
“I’ve always felt you,” I said, my breath ragged. “Even when I tried to deny it. Even when I fought you. Even when I told myself I hated you.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t care,” I said. “I don’t care about the Oath. I don’t care about the war. I don’t care about the Council. I only care about you. About this. About us.”
She didn’t answer.
Just leaned in, her forehead resting against mine, her breath mingling with mine. The bond hummed between us—no longer a scream, no longer a curse.
A song.
And then—
“Kael,” Silas said, his voice sharp from the entrance. “We have a problem.”
We broke apart, but I didn’t let her go. Just kept my hand on her waist, my body still caging hers in. “What is it?”
“Mira’s gone,” he said. “But she left something behind.”
He stepped forward, holding out a vial.
Dark liquid inside.
My blood.
Labeled in her handwriting.
Kael Nocturne. Three exchanges. Bond confirmed.
Avalon went still.
Not from fear.
From fury.
“She forged it,” I said, stepping in front of her. “She’s trying to make you doubt. To drive a wedge between us.”
“And if she didn’t?” Avalon said, her voice low. “If it’s real?”
“Then I’ll break it,” I said. “With my own hands. I’ll tear the bond from her veins. I’ll burn it from her blood. And I’ll make sure she never touches what’s mine again.”
She didn’t flinch. Just stepped around me, her boots clicking against the stone, and took the vial from Silas. She held it up to the torchlight, studying the label, the liquid, the lie.
And then—
She crushed it.
Not with magic.
With her bare hand.
Shards of glass rained to the floor, the blood seeping into the cracks, the sigils on the ground flaring as it was absorbed. The bond pulsed—hot, immediate—and I knew.
She believed me.
Not because of proof.
Because of truth.
“She’s not your past,” Avalon said, turning to me, her eyes blazing. “You’re not hers. You’re not Vexis’s. You’re not the Council’s. You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine,” I said, stepping into her, my hand rising to her face, my thumb brushing the edge of her jaw. “Every damn part of you.”
She almost smiled. Almost.
Instead, she leaned in, her lips brushing mine—just once, feather-light, a promise.
And then—
“Kael,” Silas said, his voice urgent. “Scouts report movement. Vexis is on the move. He’s not alone.”
We broke apart, but I didn’t let her go. Just kept my hand on her waist, my body still caging hers in. “Then we’ll be ready.”
“Together,” she said.
“Always,” I said.
And then we walked into the storm.
The world held its breath.
And we—
We were ready.