The silence after the Council session was heavier than any battle cry.
Not peace. Not victory. But the stillness of a storm that had been delayed, not dispersed. We’d exposed Vexis’s forgery. Revealed the Blood Pact as a lie. The High Witch had declared the clause void, the bond unbroken. The Northern Packs had roared their approval. The vampires had bowed their heads. The Fae had stepped back, their glamours flickering like dying embers.
But Vexis hadn’t fought.
Hadn’t argued.
Hadn’t even flinched.
He’d just smiled—slow, knowing, venomous—and vanished into the shadows like smoke through stone.
And that—
That was worse than any attack.
Because I knew. Knew in the quiet hum of the bond, in the cold weight in my chest, in the whisper of my mother’s voice that still echoed in the back of my mind.
He wasn’t done.
He was coming.
We returned to the inner sanctum of the Archives, the air thick with the scent of scorched magic and old blood. The cracked pedestal still pulsed with the residue of the void-wraith’s presence, the sigil beneath layers of ash and frost flickering like a dying heartbeat. Silas leaned against the wall, his face pale, his hand pressed to his chest where the wraith had torn at his soul. He was alive. Barely. But he was still standing.
“He’s not just going to walk away,” I said, pacing the length of the chamber. My boots echoed on the stone, each step a countdown. “He’s had centuries to plan this. He didn’t just forge the Pact. He didn’t just send the wraith to distract us. He’s building to something. Something bigger.”
Kael stood by the cracked pedestal, his golden eyes scanning the sigil. “He’s trying to break the bond,” he said, his voice low. “Not through law. Not through lies. Through *destruction*.”
“And if he succeeds?” Silas asked, his voice rough.
“Then the truce collapses,” I said. “The packs turn on each other. The vampires take the chaos as an excuse to seize power. The Fae retreat into their courts. And Vexis—”
“Rules,” Kael finished. “Alone.”
I turned to him. “Then we stop him. Before he can act.”
“And how?” Silas asked. “We don’t even know where he is. He could be in the Citadel. In the void. In the heart of the Unseelie Court.”
“No,” I said, stepping to the central case where the forged Blood Moon Ritual scroll still rested. “He’s not hiding. He’s *waiting*.”
Kael turned to me. “For what?”
“For the Blood Moon to rise again,” I said. “The next full moon. The peak of lunar magic. That’s when the bond is strongest—and most vulnerable. That’s when he’ll strike. Not to sever it. To *consume* it.”
“And if he does?” Kael asked.
“Then he won’t just break the bond,” I said, my voice low. “He’ll take it. Use it. Become the Blood Moon Alpha himself. And with the power of the bond, with the truce in ruins, no one will be able to stop him.”
Silas pushed off the wall, his dark eyes sharp. “Then we don’t wait. We go to him. Now.”
“And where is ‘him’?” I asked. “We don’t even know where he’s anchored himself.”
“The void,” Kael said. “The ritual void. That’s where he sent the wraith from. That’s where he’s drawing his power. If we can find the rift he’s using—if we can close it before the moon rises—we can cut him off from the bond.”
“And if we can’t?” I asked.
“Then we fight him in the void,” he said, stepping toward me. “And we burn him from the inside out.”
My breath caught.
He wasn’t just saying it to control me.
He *meant* it.
And that—
That was more dangerous than any lie.
“Then we go,” I said, turning to the shelves. “We need the original Blood Moon Ritual scroll. The real one. Not the forgery. If we’re going into the void, we need the truth to anchor us. Otherwise, the void will consume us.”
Kael moved to the Archive Keeper’s Ledger, unrolling it again. “The original was removed from the Archives thirteen years ago,” he said. “The log says it was ‘relocated for safekeeping.’ Signed by the High Witch.”
“Maeve,” I said, my voice tight. “She knew. She knew the scroll was gone. She knew the truth. And she didn’t tell me.”
“She was protecting you,” Silas said. “Or trying to.”
“Or obeying Vexis,” I said, my voice cold. “She has his mark. She’s not just afraid of him. She’s *bound* to him.”
“Then we find her,” Kael said. “Before she can warn him.”
“No,” I said. “We go to Veilhaven. To the scrying pool. If the original scroll is hidden anywhere, it’s there. In the place where she raised me. Where she taught me the old rituals. Where she *lied* to me.”
Kael didn’t argue. Just nodded, his golden eyes burning. “Then we move now. Before the moon rises. Before he knows we’re coming.”
We left Silas in the Archives, resting, his body still healing from the wraith’s touch. He didn’t argue. Just gripped my wrist as I turned to go. “Don’t die,” he said, his voice low. “Not today.”
“I won’t,” I said. “Not until I’ve brought her back.”
He didn’t smile. Just nodded. “Then I’ll be here. Waiting.”
The journey to Veilhaven was a descent into memory.
We traveled under the waning Blood Moon, its silver light painting the Scottish Highlands in ghostly hues, the mist curling around ancient stone circles like spectral fingers. The land here was older than the Citadel, older than the Blood Pact Archives, older than the lies that had shaped my life. It breathed with the pulse of the Fae—wild, untamed, humming with forgotten oaths and broken promises. Every step I took on the damp earth felt like a betrayal. Every breath I drew tasted of guilt.
Kael walked beside me, his presence a shadow at my back, his silence heavier than any words. He hadn’t argued when I’d said I needed to go. Hadn’t tried to stop me. Just nodded, his gold eyes burning with something I couldn’t name—fear, maybe. Or understanding. He knew what I was about to do. Knew that to reach the truth, to pull the original scroll from the void of lies, I’d have to face Maeve. And I wasn’t sure I could.
“She’ll try to protect you,” he said, his voice low, cutting through the mist. “Even now. Even after everything.”
“I don’t want her protection,” I said, not looking at him. “I want her truth.”
“And if the truth demands a price you’re not ready to pay?”
My breath caught.
Because I already knew the answer.
“Then I’ll pay it,” I said. “Whatever it is.”
He didn’t respond. Just reached for my hand—just for a second—his fingers brushing mine, warm, grounding. The bond flared, a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet. My magic rose, not in anger, not in defense, but in *recognition*. As if my power knew what my mind refused to admit.
That I wasn’t just fighting for my mother.
I was fighting for *us*.
And that thought—
That thought was more dangerous than any blade.
We reached Veilhaven as dawn broke over the moors, the mist parting like a veil to reveal a crumbling manor house, its stone walls draped in ivy, its windows dark. This had been my childhood home. The place where Maeve had raised me after my mother’s “death.” Where she’d taught me the old rituals. Where she’d hidden my half-fae blood, warning me never to trust the Council, never to reveal my true name.
And now?
Now, it felt like a tomb.
The front door opened before we reached it. Maeve stood in the threshold, her silver hair pulled back, her eyes sharp with fear. She wore a long, flowing robe of deep blue, the color of twilight, the sigil of the Seelie Court embroidered over her heart. But beneath it—faint, hidden, but *there*—I could see the mark. The sigil of the Unseelie. A leash. A curse. A chain.
“Opal,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You came.”
“I didn’t come for you,” I said, stepping past her. “I came for the truth.”
She flinched, but didn’t argue. Just closed the door behind us, sealing us in silence. The air inside was thick with the scent of old parchment, dried herbs, and something darker—fear. The walls were lined with shelves of ritual tools, vials of preserved magic, and ancient tomes bound in leather. A scrying pool sat in the center of the room, its surface still, its moonstone glowing faintly.
“You want the original scroll,” she said, her voice low. “The one that was taken.”
“Yes,” I said, turning to face her. “And you’re going to give it to me.”
She didn’t answer. Just walked to the scrying pool, her hands trembling as she lit the candles around it. The flames burned blue, casting long shadows on the walls. “It’s not here,” she said. “Not in the physical world. It’s in the void. Hidden. Protected. Only you can retrieve it.”
“Then I’ll go,” I said, stepping toward the pool.
“No,” Kael said, grabbing my wrist. His grip was tight, desperate. “You don’t have to do this. There’s another way. We’ll find it.”
“There *is* no other way,” I said, pulling free. “And you know it.”
He didn’t argue. Just stared at me, his gold eyes burning. “Then let me go in your place.”
My breath caught.
“You can’t,” Maeve said, stepping between us. “The ritual demands a blood relative. A daughter. A mother. A bond of blood and magic. You cannot take her place, Kael. Not even with the Blood Moon Bond.”
He didn’t flinch. Just kept his eyes on me. “Then I’ll go with you. Into the void. I’ll fight for you. I’ll bring it back.”
“And if you die?” I asked, my voice breaking. “If the void consumes you? What then?”
“Then I die knowing I tried,” he said, stepping closer. “Knowing I fought for you. For the truth.”
My breath hitched.
He wasn’t just saying it to control me.
He *meant* it.
And that—
That was more dangerous than any lie.
Maeve stepped back, her hands trembling. “The ritual begins at moonrise. Until then, prepare. Meditate. Clear your mind. The Fae High Court will judge your worth. And if they deem you worthy—”
“Then I’ll pay the price,” I said, turning to her. “And I’ll bring it back.”
She didn’t answer. Just lowered her head, her shoulders trembling.
And I knew—
She wasn’t just afraid for me.
She was afraid *of* me.
Because I wasn’t the girl she’d raised.
I was something else.
Something stronger.
Something that could burn the world to get what I wanted.
The hours passed like shadows.
I sat by the scrying pool, my hands resting on the cool stone, my mind racing. Kael sat beside me, his presence a wall against the cold, his silence heavier than any words. He didn’t try to comfort me. Didn’t try to distract me. Just stayed. Watched. Waited.
And then—
The moon rose.
Silver light poured through the windows, flooding the room, illuminating the scrying pool. The moonstone flared, its light pulsing in time with my heartbeat. Maeve stepped forward, her hands trembling as she lit the final candle. The flames burned white, casting no shadows.
“It’s time,” she said, her voice barely a whisper.
I stood, my legs unsteady, my breath coming fast. Kael reached for me—just for a second—his fingers brushing mine, warm, grounding. The bond flared, a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet.
“I’ll be here,” he said. “When you come back. I’ll be here.”
My breath caught.
Because I didn’t know if I *would* come back.
“Then wait,” I said, stepping toward the pool. “And don’t look away.”
Maeve raised her hands, her voice chanting in a language older than blood. The air thickened. The magic built. The scrying pool rippled—not from the wind, not from my breath—but from *within*.
And then—
I stepped in.
The world dissolved.
Not into darkness.
Not into light.
But into *nothing*.
I was falling. Floating. Unmoored. The ritual void was not a place. It was an absence. A silence. A wound in reality. And in that silence—
I saw it.
The original Blood Moon Ritual scroll.
Hovering in the void, wrapped in chains of shadow, its surface pulsing with stolen magic. And beside it—
Vexis.
He stood in the heart of the void, his ageless face pale, his eyes like shards of ice. He wore a long, flowing robe of deepest black, the sigil of the Unseelie Court embroidered over his heart. In his hands—a dagger forged from shadow, its blade pulsing with stolen magic.
“You’re too late,” he said, his voice like cracked stone. “The ritual has already begun. The bond is mine.”
“Then end it,” I said, stepping forward. “Before I burn it from you.”
He smiled—slow, knowing, venomous. “You think you can stop me, little witch? You think your fire can touch what darkness has claimed?”
“I don’t think,” I said, raising my hand. “I *know*.”
Moonfire erupted from my fingertips, silver and wild, racing toward him—but he moved fast.
Too fast.
He sidestepped, the flame licking at the scroll instead. The chains cracked. The magic flared. And then—
The ground trembled.
The walls groaned.
And Vexis—
He raised the dagger—and plunged it into the scroll.
The void screamed.
The magic surged—a wave of shadow that threw me back. I slammed into the nothingness, my breath coming in shallow gasps. The bond flared—a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet. My magic flickered, my strength waning.
And then—
Kael appeared.
Not through the pool.
Not through magic.
Through *me*.
He stepped from the bond, his body a wall of gold and fire, his golden eyes burning. “You don’t touch her,” he growled, lunging at Vexis.
They clashed—fist against shadow, fire against void. The void trembled. The scroll pulsed. And I—
I acted.
Not with magic.
Not with fire.
With my body.
I lunged for the scroll, my hands closing around the chains. They burned—cold, biting, draining—but I didn’t let go. My moonfire rose, not to burn, but to *mend*. Silver light curled from my fingertips, weaving through the chains, breaking them, freeing the scroll.
The bond flared—a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath our feet.
And then—
Vexis roared, his body thrown back, the dagger flying from his hand. The scroll was free. The magic was ours.
“Now!” I shouted.
Kael didn’t hesitate.
He raised his hand—and burned.
Not with moonfire.
With *truth*.
Golden light erupted from his palm, not in a wave, not in a blast—
But in a *pulse*.
It didn’t hurt Vexis.
It *revealed*.
For a single, blinding second, the entire void was flooded with gold light—and in that light, I saw it.
The truth.
Vexis’s aura—normally a deep black—was laced with something darker. A thread of shadow, twisting through his magic like poison. And beneath it, a sigil. Faint. Hidden. But *there*.
A mark of the Blood Moon Bond.
He hadn’t just stolen it.
He was *bound* to it.
And that—
That was his weakness.
“The bond rejects you,” I said, stepping forward. “It was forged in truth. In blood. In *fate*. And you are none of those things.”
He didn’t answer.
Just screamed—as the bond turned on him.
Golden light surged through his veins, not burning, not scorching—but *unraveling*. His body convulsed. His eyes rolled back. His magic shattered.
And then—
The void screamed.
The light faded.
And Vexis—
He was gone.
Not dead.
Not banished.
*Erased*.
The scroll floated in the void, its surface glowing with truth. I reached for it—my fingers brushing the parchment—and the void trembled.
And then—
I was falling.
Not through nothing.
But through *everything*.
Memories. Dreams. Regrets. The scent of my mother’s hair. The sound of Kael’s voice. The feel of his hand in mine. The bond—oh, the bond—was flaring, a thread of fire in the dark, guiding me, pulling me, *calling* me.
And then—
I was back.
In Veilhaven.
In Kael’s arms.
And in my hands—
The truth.
“You did it,” Maeve whispered. “You brought it back.”
But I didn’t answer.
Just buried my face in Kael’s coat, my breath trembling, my heart breaking.
Because I’d just done the one thing I’d sworn I’d never do.
I’d given up the last proof that my mother had loved me.
And yet—
As I lay there, his arms locked around me, his heartbeat syncing with mine—
I didn’t feel empty.
I felt *free*.
“We’re not done,” I said, lifting my head. “Vexis is still out there. And he won’t stop until the bond is broken.”
He didn’t let go.
Just pulled me closer.
And in that moment—
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.
But as I walked beside Kael, his hand brushing mine, his presence a shadow at my back—
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the real danger wasn’t out there in the frozen wilds.
It was standing right beside me.
And I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill him anymore.
Or keep him.