The journey back to the Blackthorn Citadel was a blur of wind, snow, and silence.
We moved fast—Kael in half-shift, his powerful frame cutting through the drifts with predatory grace, his golden eyes scanning the terrain for threats. Silas walked beside me, his vampire stillness unnerving in the storm’s aftermath, his presence a quiet anchor. I followed, my boots crunching through the frozen earth, my mind racing faster than my body.
My mother is alive.
The words echoed in my skull, relentless, shattering everything I thought I knew. For thirteen years, I’d lived with the truth that she was gone—that she’d been sacrificed in the Blood Moon Ritual, her soul extinguished to stabilize the werewolf packs. I’d built my life on that truth. My vengeance. My mission. And now?
Now, a whisper in the dark had torn it apart.
And worse—she’d warned me.
Don’t trust him. He knows more than he says.
Her voice had been soft, trembling with sorrow, but the words had struck like a blade. And Kael had heard it too. I’d seen it—the flicker in his gold eyes, the way his jaw had tightened, the way his hand had instinctively reached for mine before he caught himself.
He knew something.
And he wasn’t telling me.
The bond hummed between us, a low, insistent pulse beneath my skin. It had changed since the cave. Not weaker. Not stronger. But *deeper*. As if the forced intimacy, the shared body heat, the nearness of our bodies had fed it, strengthened it, made it impossible to ignore. I could feel him—his breath, his heartbeat, the quiet storm of his thoughts—like it was part of me. And that terrified me more than anything.
Because the more I felt him, the harder it was to hate him.
“We need to scry,” I said, breaking the silence. “Before we go north. Before we walk into Vexis’s trap. I need to see her. I need to know she’s really alive.”
Kael didn’t look at me. Just kept walking, his voice low. “Scrying is dangerous. Especially across realms. The ritual can pull you in. Trap you.”
“Then I’ll risk it,” I said. “I’m not chasing shadows. I’m not dying for a lie.”
He finally turned, his gaze locking onto mine. “And if it *is* a lie? If Vexis is using her voice to lure you in? If he’s already broken her mind?”
“Then I’ll know,” I said. “And I’ll still go. Because even a broken mother is more than I’ve had in thirteen years.”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded, his expression unreadable. “There’s a scrying pool in Veilhaven. Maeve can help you.”
Maeve.
My aunt. The only family I had left. The woman who’d raised me after my mother’s “death.” The one who’d taught me the old rituals, who’d hidden my half-fae blood, who’d warned me never to trust the Council.
And yet—
I hadn’t spoken to her since I’d infiltrated the Citadel. Not a word. Not a message. I’d cut her off, afraid she’d betray me, afraid the Council would trace her magic to mine.
And now?
Now, I needed her.
We reached the Citadel as the Blood Moon began to wane, its crimson glow fading to a dull silver in the sky. The guards at the gate hesitated when they saw us—filthy, bloodied, half-frozen—but Kael’s presence silenced any questions. We moved through the corridors like ghosts, the whispers of our return already spreading.
“They’re saying we slept together,” Silas murmured as we passed a group of Northern Pack envoys. Their eyes flickered to me—narrowed, judging.
“Let them talk,” I said, lifting my chin. “I don’t care what they believe.”
“You should,” Kael said, his voice low. “Rumors have power. Especially when they’re laced with truth.”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
The truth was the most dangerous weapon of all.
We reached my chambers—*our* chambers, now, since the bond demanded proximity—and I didn’t wait. I went straight to the hidden panel beneath the floorboards, where I’d stashed my ritual supplies. My hands trembled as I pulled out the silver bowl, the moonstone, the vial of my mother’s hair—preserved in enchanted oil, the last piece of her I had.
“You’re doing it here?” Kael asked, watching me.
“I’m not waiting,” I said. “The longer I wait, the more time Vexis has to move. To hurt her.”
He didn’t argue. Just shut the door and lit the candles, the flames burning blue, casting long shadows on the walls. The air grew thick with magic, the scent of old parchment and dried herbs rising from the stone.
I filled the bowl with water from the pitcher, then added a drop of my blood—crimson, bright, alive. I placed the moonstone in the center, its surface glowing faintly, and laid the vial of my mother’s hair beside it.
“Say her name,” Kael said, his voice soft. “Call her through the veil.”
I closed my eyes.
And I spoke.
“Elara. Mother. If you can hear me, answer. If you’re there, show me your face.”
The water rippled.
Not from the wind. Not from my breath.
From *within*.
The surface shimmered, then darkened, like ink bleeding through water. The moonstone flared, its light pulsing in time with my heartbeat. And then—
She appeared.
Not as a memory. Not as a dream.
But as a *presence*.
Her silver-blue eyes—so like mine—filled the bowl, filled the room, filled my soul. Her face was pale, drawn, her hair tangled, her lips cracked. But she was *alive*. Breathing. Trapped.
My breath caught.
“Opal,” she whispered, her voice echoing as if from a great distance. “You found me.”
“Mother,” I said, tears burning in my eyes. “I thought you were gone. I thought—”
“I’m not dead,” she said, her voice weak but steady. “I was taken. Trapped in the ritual void. A prison between worlds. Vexis did this. He altered the Blood Moon Ritual. He used me as an anchor to bind the packs—but not to stabilize them. To *control* them.”
My pulse spiked.
“And Kael?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper. “Did he know?”
She hesitated.
And in that silence, I knew.
“He suspected,” she said. “But he couldn’t prove it. Vexis was already in the Council. He’d planted lies. Altered records. Kael tried to stop it, but the ritual had already begun. By the time he realized what was happening, I was gone.”
“And he let me believe he’d killed you,” I said, my voice breaking. “He let me hate him.”
“Because the truth would’ve shattered the truce,” she said. “Kael knew Vexis would use the chaos to seize power. He protected you by making you his enemy. By making you *safe*.”
My breath stilled.
He’d done it to protect me?
Not for politics. Not for power.
But for *me*?
“And Maeve?” I asked. “Does she know you’re alive?”
Mother’s expression darkened. “She knows. But she made a bargain with Vexis. She saved you—kept you hidden, trained you—but in exchange, she gave him information. About our bloodline. About the moonfire.”
My stomach twisted.
Maeve.
My aunt. My mentor. The woman who’d raised me.
And she’d *betrayed* me?
“She didn’t have a choice,” Mother said, her voice soft. “He threatened you. Said he’d kill you if she didn’t cooperate. She did it to protect you, Opal. Just like Kael.”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know what to feel.
Rage. Betrayal. Grief.
Or something worse.
Pity.
“You have to stop him,” Mother said, her voice urgent. “He’s using the Blood Pact Archives. Rewriting the truce. If he succeeds, he’ll control every supernatural being. And he’ll use your power to do it.”
“Then I’ll burn him first,” I said, my voice steady. “I’ll break the bond. I’ll kill him. I’ll—”
“No,” she said, her voice sharp. “You can’t break the bond. Not yet. It’s tied to the moonfire. To your bloodline. If you sever it too soon, the power will destroy you.”
My breath caught.
“Then what do I do?”
“Trust him,” she said, her eyes flickering to Kael, who stood behind me, silent, watching. “You don’t have to love him. But you have to *trust* him. He’s the only one strong enough to protect you. The only one who can help you save me.”
“And if he betrays me?” I whispered.
“Then you’ll know,” she said. “Because the bond will burn. And so will your heart.”
And then—
The image wavered.
The water rippled.
And she was gone.
“Mother!” I cried, reaching for the bowl. “Wait! Tell me where you are! Tell me how to save you!”
But the water was still. The moonstone dimmed. The vial of her hair cracked, a single strand falling into the bowl, dissolving like smoke.
She was gone.
I sat there, trembling, tears burning down my cheeks. The room was silent. The candles flickered. And then—
Kael was there.
Not in front of me. Not shielding me.
But beside me.
His hand found mine, not in possession, not in control, but in *solidarity*. His gold eyes burned into mine, not with suspicion, but with something raw. Something I couldn’t name.
“You knew,” I whispered. “You knew she was alive.”
He didn’t deny it. Just nodded. “I suspected. After the bond formed. After I felt your magic. But I couldn’t tell you. Not without proof. Not without risking the truce.”
“And Maeve?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Did you know about her too?”
He hesitated.
And in that silence, I knew.
“Yes,” he said. “Silas uncovered it weeks ago. But we couldn’t tell you. Not until you were ready.”
“And am I?” I asked, my voice trembling. “Am I ready to know that the people who raised me, who taught me, who *loved* me—lied to me? Betrayed me?”
“They didn’t betray you,” he said, his voice rough. “They protected you. Just like I did. Just like I’m still doing.”
“By lying?” I demanded. “By letting me hate you? By letting me believe I came here to kill the man who murdered my mother?”
“By keeping you alive,” he said, stepping closer. “By giving you a mission. A purpose. If you’d known the truth, you’d have charged into the Council screaming for Vexis. And he would’ve killed you before you took two steps.”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
I would’ve died.
And yet—
“You still should’ve told me,” I said, my voice breaking. “You should’ve trusted me.”
“I do trust you,” he said, his hand tightening around mine. “But I couldn’t risk you. Not then. Not now.”
“And what about now?” I asked. “Now that I know? Now that I’ve seen her? Are you still going to lie? Still going to keep me in the dark?”
He didn’t answer.
Just reached up and brushed his thumb along the bond mark on my neck.
Fire shot through me.
My breath hitched. My body arched toward him, betraying me completely. My magic surged, rising like a tide, drawn to his like it had its own will.
“Don’t,” I whispered, but it wasn’t a refusal. It was a plea.
“Then tell me to stop,” he said, his voice rough. “Tell me you don’t want this. Tell me you don’t want *me*.”
I opened my mouth.
But no words came.
Because I couldn’t say it.
Because I didn’t know if it was true.
And in that moment—
A knock.
Sharp. Insistent.
“Enter,” Kael said, stepping back.
The door opened. Silas stepped inside, his expression grim. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” I asked, wiping my tears.
“Lyra,” he said. “She’s not gone. She’s in the Blood Pact Archives. And she’s not alone.”
My breath caught.
“Vexis,” Kael growled.
“No,” Silas said. “Worse. She’s with Maeve.”
My blood ran cold.
Maeve.
Here.
With *Lyra*?
“They’re searching for something,” Silas said. “Something hidden in the oldest records. Something about the Blood Moon Bond.”
“Then we stop them,” I said, standing. “Now.”
“It’s a trap,” Kael said. “They’re luring you in.”
“And if they have information about the bond?” I demanded. “About how to break it? About how to save my mother?”
He didn’t answer.
Just stared at me, his gold eyes burning.
And I knew—
The game had changed.
Because now, it wasn’t just about revenge.
It wasn’t just about the bond.
It was about *truth*.
And I would burn the world to get it.
“I’m going,” I said, stepping past him. “With or without you.”
He didn’t stop me.
Just followed.
And as we walked through the torch-lit corridors, the bond humming between us, I knew one thing.
The real battle wasn’t out there in the frozen wilds.
It wasn’t with Vexis.
It was here.
In the heart of the Citadel.
And the enemy wasn’t just the man who’d framed Kael.
It was the woman who’d raised me.
And the man I’d come to kill.
And the bond that tied us all together.
And me.
Because the most dangerous thing of all?
Wasn’t the magic.
Wasn’t the lies.
Wasn’t even the blood.
It was the truth.
And I wasn’t sure I was ready to face it.
But I had to.
Because my mother was waiting.
And this time?
I wouldn’t let her down.