The silence after Silas left was worse than the shouting.
Not that there had been shouting. Not from Kael. He never shouted. He didn’t have to. His voice was a blade, sharp and cold, cutting through noise, through lies, through resistance. But when he’d released me in the Archives, he hadn’t spoken. Just watched me with those black, depthless eyes—like he was memorizing the shape of my betrayal, the tremor in my hands, the way my breath still hitched when I looked at him.
And I’d walked away.
Not because I wanted to.
Because I had to.
The kiss had cracked something open inside me—something I’d sealed shut years ago, when they dragged my mother away screaming. Hope. Trust. The dangerous, foolish belief that someone might see me. Not as a weapon. Not as a pawn. Not as a curse waiting to erupt.
But as me.
Kael had looked at me like he saw all of it. Like he knew it. And that was the most terrifying thing of all.
I don’t remember how I got back to our chambers. One moment I was in the Archives, the air still humming with the aftermath of the bond’s magic, the shelves trembling like they’d been struck by lightning. The next, I was standing in front of the massive black-veined stone door, my hand on the handle, my heart pounding like it wanted to break free.
I didn’t go in.
Instead, I turned and walked down the corridor, my boots clicking against the obsidian floor. The Midnight Court stretched around me—endless halls of carved stone, bioluminescent vines pulsing crimson, shadows shifting like living things. I passed vampires in velvet coats, their eyes tracking me with cold curiosity. Fae in silken masks, their whispers trailing behind me like smoke. Werewolves in ceremonial leathers, their golden eyes narrowed, their scents sharp with suspicion.
They knew.
Of course they knew.
Silas had seen us—me, pressed against Kael, lips swollen, body trembling, thighs slick with need. And if Silas knew, the whole Court would know by dawn. The whispers were already starting, slithering through the air like serpents.
“She’s fallen for him.”
“The Lunar witch, tamed.”
“She’ll betray her coven for him.”
I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms. Let them talk. Let them hate. I’d worn their scorn like armor for years. I could wear this too.
But this was different.
This wasn’t just hatred.
This was disgust.
Not just from the Court.
From me.
Because I hadn’t fought him.
Not in the Archives.
Not when he pinned me against the shelf.
Not when he kissed me.
I’d kissed him back.
Hard. Desperate. Wanting.
And when his thigh pressed between my legs, when his hand cupped my ass, when his fangs grazed my neck—I hadn’t pushed him away.
I’d clung to him.
And the worst part?
I’d liked it.
The heat. The hunger. The way my body had arched into his, begging for more. The way the cursed mark on my wrist had flared not with pain, but with something deeper—something like recognition.
Yes, it had seemed to say. This. Him. Us.
I stopped walking.
Leaned against the cold stone wall.
Pressed my forehead to the rock.
Breathed.
In. Out.
Control. Always control.
But my body didn’t listen.
The bond hummed beneath my skin, low and insistent, like a cello string vibrating in my blood. Every breath felt like an invasion. Every heartbeat echoed with his presence, even though he was miles away. I could still smell him—cold stone, aged wine, the iron tang of blood. My magic stirred, not in defense, but in response. The bond was pulling. Tugging. A thread of fire connecting our blood, our breath, our bones.
And then—
A hand on my shoulder.
I spun, dagger in hand—Riven’s silver blade, still tucked in my sleeve.
“Easy,” he said, holding up his hands. “It’s just me.”
His golden eyes searched mine, sharp with worry. He looked different in the dim light—older, wearier. The weight of the Court pressing down on him, just like it pressed down on me.
“You shouldn’t be out here alone,” he said, lowering his voice. “The wolves are restless. The Fae are whispering. And Lysandra—”
“What about her?” I snapped.
“She’s moving,” he said. “Spreading rumors. Saying you’re a spy. That you stole a cursed sigil from the Archives. That you’re planning to assassinate Kael.”
My stomach twisted. “She’s lying.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he said. “The Court doesn’t need truth. They need a story. And right now, the story is that you’re a traitor.”
“Let them believe it,” I said, sheathing the dagger. “I don’t care what they think.”
“You should.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “Because if they believe it, Kael will have to act. And if he doesn’t—”
“He’ll look weak,” I finished.
“Exactly.”
I pressed my lips together, fighting the surge of anger, of fear. Of helplessness. I’d spent my life believing I could control my fate. That if I was smart enough, strong enough, ruthless enough, I could break the curse, clear my mother’s name, destroy the Court.
But now—
I wasn’t in control.
The bond was.
Kael was.
And the worst part?
Part of me didn’t want to be.
“You’re not yourself,” Riven said, his voice soft. “I can see it. The way you look at him. The way your body responds when he’s near. The bond is changing you.”
“It’s magic,” I said, too quickly. “Not fate.”
“Then why does it feel like both?”
I froze.
Because I’d asked myself the same thing.
In the Archives. In the kiss. In the way my heart still raced when I thought of his hands on me, his mouth on mine, his voice in my ear.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Riven said. “That he’s manipulating you. That the bond is a trap. But what if it’s not? What if it’s the only way to break the curse?”
“By surrendering?” I hissed. “By letting him own me?”
“By trusting him.”
I laughed—sharp, bitter. “You don’t know him. You don’t know what he did.”
“I know what the bond showed you,” he said. “I know you saw the truth. That your mother was framed. That Kael didn’t kill her. That the curse wasn’t cast by her—but on you. To bind you to him.”
My breath caught.
Because he was right.
The memories from the kiss—the flashes of truth—hadn’t just been in my head.
They’d been in his too.
And in that moment, I’d known.
Kael hadn’t lied.
He’d been a prisoner too.
Bound by law. By duty. By the Judge’s power.
And he’d watched my mother die.
Just like I had.
“I can’t trust him,” I whispered. “If I do, I lose everything I came for.”
“Or,” Riven said, “you gain something better.”
I looked at him. “And what’s that?”
“A chance to live.”
My throat tightened.
Because I knew he was right.
The curse would kill me in twenty-eight days.
And the only thing keeping me alive was the bond.
And Kael.
And if I kept fighting it—kept fighting him—I’d die alone.
But if I stopped—
If I let go—
Maybe I’d finally be free.
Before I could answer, a voice cut through the corridor.
“Well, well. Look who’s playing lapdog.”
Lysandra.
She stepped out of the shadows, draped in a gown of liquid silver, her violet eyes gleaming with malice. Her hair was black as midnight, her lips curled in a slow, venomous smile. She wore the serpent-and-blood ring on her right hand—House Nocturne’s sigil.
“I didn’t realize the Beta guard had such a soft spot for traitors,” she purred, stepping closer. “Or is it more than that? Do you love her, Riven? Is that why you’re protecting her?”
“Stay out of this, Lysandra,” he growled.
“Or what?” She laughed, low and throaty. “You’ll bite me? You’re not an Alpha. You can’t challenge me.”
“I don’t need to,” he said. “The Court already knows what you are.”
“And what’s that?”
“A liar. A manipulator. A woman who’ll do anything to keep her claws in Kael.”
Her smile didn’t waver. But her eyes—her eyes flashed with fury.
“You think I care what you think?” she said. “You think I care what any of you think?” She turned to me, her voice dropping to a whisper. “You think you’re special, Amber? That you’re the only one who’s ever stood in his arms? That you’re the only one who’s ever felt his fangs on her neck?”
My stomach twisted.
“He’s mine,” she hissed. “I was in his bed for fifty years. I wore his ring. I bore his secrets. I know how he moans. How he bites. How he—”
“You’re not his mate,” I said, cutting her off. “You never were.”
“And you are?” She laughed. “You think a few forced kisses and a cursed bond make you his queen? You’re a pawn. A tool. A distraction.”
“Then why are you so afraid of me?”
Her smile faltered.
Just for a second.
But I saw it.
The flicker of uncertainty. Of fear.
Because I was right.
She was afraid.
Not of me.
Of what I represented.
Truth.
Freedom.
A bond that couldn’t be faked.
“You don’t belong here,” she said, stepping closer. “You don’t belong with him. You don’t belong in this Court. You’re a stain on his legacy. A curse.”
“Then why does he want me?” I said, my voice steady. “Why does the bond flare when he touches me? Why does he dream of me?”
Her eyes narrowed. “You think he dreams of you?”
“I know he does.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?” I stepped closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I know he didn’t sleep with you last night. I know you weren’t in his chambers. I know you wore his shirt to trap me. To break me.”
Her breath hitched.
And I knew I’d hit a nerve.
“But it didn’t work,” I said. “Because I’m not weak. I’m not afraid. And I’m not going anywhere.”
She stared at me, her face a mask of fury.
And then—
She smiled.
Slow. Cold. Dangerous.
“You think you’ve won?” she said. “You think this bond makes you safe?” She leaned in, her breath warm against my ear. “Let me tell you something, little witch. Kael doesn’t want loyalty. He wants obedience. And you? You’re too wild for that.”
“Good,” I said, stepping back. “I’d hate to disappoint.”
She laughed—low, bitter. “You already have.” She turned to leave, but paused. “Enjoy your victory, Amber. It won’t last.”
And then she was gone, swallowed by the shadows.
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.
“She’s dangerous,” Riven said. “Don’t underestimate her.”
“I won’t,” I said. “But I’m not afraid of her.”
“You should be.” He caught my wrist, his grip firm. “Because she’s not the only one spreading lies.”
“What do you mean?”
He hesitated. Then: “The werewolves. They’re turning against you. They think you’re a threat. That you’ll use the bond to manipulate Kael, to weaken the packs.”
My stomach dropped.
“Torin?”
“He hasn’t spoken against you. But others have. And if the Alpha doesn’t silence them—”
“There’ll be blood,” I finished.
He nodded.
And I knew he was right.
The Court was a powder keg.
And I was the spark.
Before I could respond, a servant appeared at the end of the corridor, holding a sealed scroll. He approached, bowed, and handed it to me.
“From a masked Fae,” he said. “She said it was urgent.”
I took the scroll, my fingers trembling.
He bowed again and left.
I broke the wax seal—moonstone, cracked with age—and unrolled the parchment.
Three words, written in delicate, looping script:
Your mother didn’t betray you.
My breath caught.
Not a lie.
Not a threat.
A truth.
And it shattered me.
Because for the first time, I wondered—
What if the real enemy wasn’t Kael?
What if it was the lie I’d been living?
And what if the only way to break the curse—
Was to stop fighting the bond?
And start trusting it?
And him?
The thought made my chest ache.
Because I didn’t know if I could.
But I was starting to want to.
And that—
That was the most dangerous thing of all.