The fever hit like a blade to the spine.
One moment, I was walking beside Kael through the torch-lit corridor of the Blackthorn Citadel, my arm still in his iron grip, my expression carefully blank. The next, my legs buckled. My vision whited out. A scream tore from my throat before I could stop it.
I hit the stone floor hard, my ribs cracking against the unforgiving stone. Pain exploded through my chest, sharp and deep, but it was nothing compared to the fire racing through my veins. It wasn’t heat. It wasn’t cold. It was both—a searing, pulsing current that burned from my core outward, twisting through my muscles, my bones, my blood.
“Opal!”
Kael’s voice. Distant. Muffled. Like he was shouting through water.
I curled into myself, my hands clawing at my neck where the bond mark burned. The crescent moon sigil glowed beneath my skin, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Each throb sent another wave of agony through me. My breath came in ragged gasps. My skin felt too tight, like it was splitting open from the inside.
And then—
I wasn’t alone in my pain.
I felt him. Not just near me. In me. His heartbeat. His breath. The low, animal growl in his chest. His pain was mine. And mine was his.
I turned my head, my vision blurred, and saw him on his knees beside me. His face was twisted, his jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping beneath his skin. His hands were fisted in the fabric of his tunic, his knuckles white. A thin line of blood trickled from his nose. His gold eyes were wide, unfocused, flickering with something raw—fear, maybe. Or rage.
“The bond,” he ground out, voice guttural. “It’s punishing us.”
“For what?” I gasped, my voice barely a whisper. “We’re together.”
“Not close enough,” he snarled. “It wants more. It needs more.”
I tried to move away. Instinct. Survival. But the second I shifted, the pain doubled. My back arched off the ground, a scream tearing from my throat. My fingers dug into the stone, nails splitting. Blood welled beneath them.
Kael reached for me. Not gently. He grabbed my arm, yanked me forward until I was half on top of him. Our chests pressed together. His heartbeat slammed against mine. The bond flared—white-hot, electric—and for a terrifying second, I couldn’t tell where I ended and he began.
The pain lessened. Not gone. But bearable.
“Ten feet,” he panted, his breath hot against my temple. “That’s the limit. Beyond it, the bond punishes denial.”
“Denial of what?” I hissed, still trembling.
He didn’t answer. Just held me there, his arms locked around me, his body a furnace against mine. I could feel every ridge of muscle, every shift of his breath. His scent—wild musk, iron, something dark and ancient—filled my nose, my lungs, my blood. It should have repulsed me. It didn’t.
It called to me.
And that was worse than the pain.
Footsteps echoed down the corridor. Voices. I heard the sharp intake of breath, the murmur of shock.
“By the Blood Moon,” someone whispered. “They’re bound.”
“Look at them,” another said. “Like feral animals.”
“She’s a witch. He’s the Alpha. This is unnatural.”
I wanted to scream at them. To tell them I wasn’t his. That this wasn’t real. But my body betrayed me. My fingers, still clenched in the fabric of his tunic, refused to let go. My head rested against his chest, my breath syncing with his. The bond hummed between us, a living thing, feeding on our proximity.
Kael lifted his head, his gaze scanning the onlookers. His voice, when he spoke, was low, dangerous.
“Clear the corridor. Now.”
No one argued. Not with that voice. Not with the way his eyes glowed, the air around him shimmering with barely contained power. The crowd dispersed in silence, leaving only the flicker of torchlight and the sound of our ragged breathing.
“You can let go now,” I said, forcing the words out.
He didn’t move. “If I do, you’ll collapse again.”
“Then let me collapse. I’d rather suffer than be touched by you.”
“Liar,” he murmured. “Your pulse quickens when I’m near. Your magic stirs. The bond knows the truth, Opal. It always does.”
I hated that he could hear it. That he could feel it. The bond wasn’t just a tether. It was a violation. A constant, intimate invasion of my body, my magic, my very soul.
Slowly, carefully, he helped me to my feet. His arm stayed around my waist, holding me upright. I didn’t fight it. Not because I trusted him. But because I knew the truth now.
The bond wasn’t a lie.
It was a curse.
And it was real.
He guided me down the corridor, our steps slow, unsteady. Every few feet, the pain would spike if we drifted too far apart, forcing us closer. By the time we reached his chambers, I was drenched in sweat, my legs trembling beneath me.
The door opened into a vast, shadowed room—stone walls, a massive hearth, furs piled high on a bed carved from black oak. No ornate tapestries. No gilded trinkets. Just weapons. Blades lined the walls. Shields hung above the mantle. A wolf pelt stretched across the floor, its eyes still sharp, even in death.
“This is where you keep your trophies?” I asked, voice bitter. “Slain enemies? Broken promises?”
He shut the door behind us, the click echoing in the silence. “This is where I keep what matters.”
“And what matters to a monster?”
He turned to me, his gaze piercing. “Survival. Control. The truce.”
“And now me,” I said. “Your cursed consort.”
“You’re not cursed,” he said, stepping closer. “You’re bound. There’s a difference.”
“Not to me.”
He reached for me. Not to touch my face. Not to grip my arm. His fingers brushed the bond mark on my neck.
Fire. Lightning. A jolt of pure, molten need shot through me. My breath caught. My body arched toward him, betraying me completely. My skin burned where he touched me. My magic—dormant for years—stirred, rising like a tide.
“Don’t,” I gasped, stepping back. “Don’t touch me.”
“You feel it too,” he said, his voice low, rough. “The pull. The heat. It’s not just the bond. It’s us.”
“There is no us,” I snapped. “There’s only revenge. And when I find a way to break this bond, I’ll kill you.”
He didn’t flinch. Just watched me, his gold eyes unreadable. “Then you’ll die with me.”
The truth of it settled over me like a shroud.
If I killed him, the bond would kill me too.
If I ran, the fever would take me.
If I denied it, the pain would consume me.
I was trapped. Not just by the bond. By him.
And the worst part?
My body didn’t care.
It wanted him. Craved him. Ached for his touch, his scent, his heat. Even now, even hating him, even knowing what he’d done—my magic sang in his presence. My pulse raced. My skin burned.
“You’re testing me,” I said, forcing my voice steady. “Seeing how far you can push before I break.”
“I’m learning you,” he corrected. “Just as you’re learning me.”
“I already know you,” I said. “You’re a murderer. A tyrant. A liar.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “you’re still here. Still breathing. Still fighting.”
His hand lifted again. Slow. Deliberate. I didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. Let him see my defiance. Let him see that I wouldn’t cower.
His thumb traced the edge of the bond mark. Not hard. Not rough. A whisper of touch.
And still, it shattered me.
A moan slipped from my lips before I could stop it. My knees weakened. My hands flew to his chest, not to push him away, but to steady myself.
His breath hitched. His eyes darkened. For the first time, I saw it—need. Raw. Unfiltered. Not just from the bond. From him.
“You feel it,” he said, voice rough. “Don’t lie.”
“I feel pain,” I whispered. “That’s all.”
“Liar,” he growled.
And then—
A knock at the door.
We both froze. The moment shattered. The heat between us cooled, but the tension remained, thick and electric.
“Enter,” Kael said, stepping back.
The door opened. Silas Vale, Kael’s second-in-command, stepped inside. Tall. Lean. Vampire stillness in his movements. His dark eyes flicked between us, taking in my flushed skin, Kael’s clenched jaw, the way we stood too close.
“The Council requests your presence,” he said, voice smooth. “They wish to formalize the bond.”
“They can wait,” Kael said.
“They won’t,” Silas replied. “Rumors are spreading. The vampire lords are calling it a scandal. The fae say it’s an abomination. If you don’t act now, they’ll declare the bond invalid—and you’ll be forced to stand trial for breaking the truce.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “Then we’ll face them together.”
He turned to me. “You’ll wear the ceremonial robes. The bond mark must be visible.”
“I’m not parading as your prize,” I said.
“You don’t have a choice,” he said. “The bond is law. Deny it, and you’ll suffer. Cooperate, and you’ll survive.”
“Survival isn’t the same as victory.”
“Not yet,” he said. “But it’s a start.”
He reached into a chest by the bed and pulled out a set of robes—deep crimson, edged in black, the sigil of the Northern Packs embroidered over the heart. He held them out to me.
“Put them on.”
I took them, my fingers brushing his. Another spark. Another jolt of heat. I stepped back, clutching the fabric like a shield.
“Turn around,” I said.
He didn’t move. “I’ve seen you naked in my dreams, Opal. Do you think I care about a few inches of skin?”
My breath caught. Dreams?
“The bond,” he said, as if reading my thoughts. “It shows us things. When the moon is high, we don’t just share pain. We share everything.”
“Liar,” I whispered, but my voice wavered.
He turned, finally, facing the hearth. “Hurry up. We don’t have time for games.”
I stripped off my ceremonial robes, my hands trembling. The air was cold against my skin, but my body burned. I pulled on the crimson gown, the fabric clinging to my curves. The bond mark glowed faintly beneath the neckline, visible just above my collarbone.
“Done,” I said.
He turned. His gaze swept over me, slow, deliberate. Heat flared in his eyes. Not lust. Not just lust. Possession.
“You look like a queen,” he said.
“I look like a prisoner,” I corrected.
He stepped forward, closing the distance between us. His hand lifted, not to touch my face, but to trace the bond mark through the fabric.
“No,” he said. “You look like mine.”
And for the first time, I wondered—
Was I?
Not by choice.
Not by will.
But by blood, by magic, by the cruel twist of fate—
Was I already his?
He offered his arm. I didn’t take it. But I followed him out the door, Silas at our heels.
The corridor was silent. The torches flickered. The bond hummed between us, a constant, pulsing reminder.
I would find a way to break it.
I would reclaim my mother’s soul.
I would have my revenge.
But as I walked beside him, our steps in sync, our breaths mingling in the cold air—
I couldn’t ignore the truth.
The bond wasn’t just a curse.
It was a beginning.
And I had no idea where it would lead.
Or what it would cost me.
“You’re quiet,” Kael said, not looking at me.
“I’m thinking,” I replied.
“About how to kill me?”
“Among other things.”
He smirked. “You’ll have to get in line.”
“I don’t need a line,” I said. “I’ve got a knife.”
He stopped. Turned. His eyes burned into mine.
“And I’ve got the bond,” he said. “So try it. See what happens.”
I met his gaze, unflinching. “I will. When the time is right.”
He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear. “Then I’ll be waiting, witch. And when you come for me—”
His hand closed around my wrist, his thumb brushing my pulse.
“—I’ll make sure you remember my name.”
The corridor stretched ahead, dark and endless.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure who was leading whom.
Opal’s Blood Moon
The Blood Moon rises over the Blackthorn Citadel, its crimson glow painting the stone spires in blood. Inside the Obsidian Chamber, Opal stands disguised in ceremonial robes, her pulse steady, her fingers brushing the hidden dagger at her thigh. She came to kill the Alpha. Not to be bound to him. But when the ritual begins—meant to renew the truce between species—her blood spills onto the altar… and his. The moment their essences mix, the runes ignite. A shockwave throws them together. His mouth crashes against hers—not in passion, but in agony. Their souls twist, fuse, burn. The council screams. The bond is forged. Now, Opal is no longer a spy. She is Kael’s Blood-Marked Consort—a political liability, a magical anomaly, and the only woman who can trigger his primal heat. He wants to control her. She wants to destroy him. But the bond punishes denial: fever, pain, hallucinations. And when the moon swells, their bodies betray them—pressed together in fevered dreams, his teeth grazing her throat, her nails scoring his back, neither knowing if it’s real or magic. A shadow looms—the real mastermind behind her mother’s death still walks free, manipulating both packs and courts. And Kael may be the only one strong enough to protect her… or the final obstacle to her revenge. From the first chapter, Opal’s goal is clear: break the bond, kill the Alpha, reclaim her birthright. But by Chapter 3, she’s forced into a public alliance. By Chapter 8, she’s fighting jealousy, a seductive vampire mistress, and her own body’s betrayal—when a midnight mission ends with her straddling Kael’s lap, breathless, his hand under her shirt, the door slamming shut behind them. Their love will be forged in fire, blood, and the heat of the Blood Moon.