The Grand Hall of the Blackthorn Citadel rose like a cathedral carved from shadow and flame.
Massive obsidian columns lined the vaulted chamber, each etched with ancient runes that pulsed faintly in time with the Blood Moon’s rhythm. Chandeliers of black iron hung from the ceiling, their candles burning with cold blue fire. The air was thick with magic—ozone and iron, incense and blood. Dozens of council members, envoys, and dignitaries filled the hall, their whispers rising like smoke. All of them watching. All of them waiting.
And at the center of it all—me.
Bound to Kael.
His hand rested on the small of my back, a possessive weight I couldn’t ignore. The crimson robes he’d given me clung to my body like a second skin, the Northern Pack sigil blazing over my heart. The bond mark on my neck glowed faintly beneath the high collar, a brand no amount of fabric could hide.
I could feel their eyes on me. The vampire lords, draped in silk and disdain. The fae nobles, their expressions sharp with judgment. The witches, cloaked and silent, their gazes unreadable. They didn’t see Opal of the Lunar Coven. They saw a traitor. A seductress. A witch who’d used blood magic to bind the Alpha to her will.
Let them think it.
Let them whisper.
I wasn’t here to win their favor. I was here to survive.
“They’re staring,” I murmured, not looking at Kael.
“Let them,” he said, voice low. “Eyes are easier to handle than knives.”
“You’d know.”
A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. “I’ve survived both.”
The High Priestess stepped onto the dais, her silver eyes scanning the crowd. Silence fell like a blade.
“By the Blood Moon,” she intoned, “and by the ancient laws of the Supernatural Accord, we gather to witness the binding of Kael Arcturus, Alpha of the Northern Packs, to Opal of the Ember Circle, envoy and blood-bonded consort.”
A ripple of murmurs. A few gasps. One vampire noble actually laughed.
“By what right?” a fae lord demanded, stepping forward. His voice was smooth, laced with venom. “This bond was not sanctioned. It was not witnessed. It was not *consensual*.”
My spine stiffened.
Kael’s hand pressed deeper into my back, a silent warning. *Don’t react.*
“The bond requires no consent to be valid,” the High Priestess replied, her voice sharp. “Blood fused. Souls linked. The runes ignited. The magic does not lie.”
“But the witch does,” another voice snapped. A vampire woman, her hair like spun midnight, her collarbones bare—except for a single, jagged bite mark. *Lyra Nocturne.* Kael’s ex-lover. “She infiltrated under false pretenses. She seduced the ritual. This is manipulation, not destiny.”
My breath caught.
Kael didn’t move. Didn’t flinch. But I felt it—the shift in his energy, the low growl in his chest. The bond thrummed, reacting to his anger.
“You speak of seduction, Lyra,” the High Priestess said, “yet you bear the mark of a feeding, not a bond. You were never his consort.”
Lyra’s lips curled. “I’ve tasted his blood. Slept in his bed. He promised me his mark when the truce was renewed.”
“Promises made under political pressure are not binding,” the High Priestess said coldly. “And the Blood Moon Bond supersedes all prior claims.”
Lyra’s eyes flicked to me. Cold. Calculating. “Then let her prove it.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, my voice steady.
She stepped forward, her heels clicking against the stone. “Let the bond be tested. Let the council see if it’s real—or if she’s merely a witch who’s tricked us all.”
“How?” Kael asked, his voice a low rumble.
“A public marking,” Lyra purred. “Let him claim her. Here. Now. Let the world see the truth of their bond.”
A hush fell over the hall.
My pulse spiked.
The bond flared, a sudden heat beneath my skin. *No.* This wasn’t part of the plan. I wasn’t ready. I didn’t want his teeth on my neck, his fangs breaking skin, his claim sealing me to him in front of everyone.
But I couldn’t refuse.
If I backed down, they’d call me a fraud. They’d declare the bond invalid. And if the bond was broken—
So was I.
Kael turned to me, his gold eyes searching mine. For the first time, I saw hesitation. Not fear. Not uncertainty. But *consideration.*
“You don’t have to do this,” he said, so low only I could hear. “We can refuse the test.”
“And be branded liars?” I whispered. “Then the Council will dismantle the truce. War will follow. You know that.”
He nodded, jaw tight. “But if I mark you—truly mark you—it will deepen the bond. It will make it harder to break.”
My breath caught. He *knew.* He knew I wanted to break it. And he was offering me a way out.
But I couldn’t take it.
Not now.
“Do it,” I said, lifting my chin. “Or they’ll never believe us.”
His gaze darkened. “You’re sure?”
“I’m not afraid of you,” I lied.
He stepped in front of me, turning to face the crowd. The High Priestess raised her hands.
“Let the claiming be witnessed,” she declared. “Let the bond be sealed in truth.”
The hall fell silent.
Kael reached for me. Slow. Deliberate. His fingers brushed the edge of my collar, then gently pulled the fabric aside, baring the bond mark on my neck. The crescent moon sigil glowed brighter, responding to his touch.
My breath came fast. My skin burned. My magic stirred, rising like a storm.
He leaned in.
His breath was warm against my throat. His fangs grazed my skin—just a whisper, a tease. I shivered. Not from fear. From *need.*
And then—
He bit.
Not deep. Not brutal. A precise, controlled puncture just above the bond mark. Pain flared—sharp, clean—then melted into heat. Fire raced through my veins, magic surging, the bond *singing.* I gasped, my fingers flying to his chest, not to push him away, but to hold on.
He didn’t drink.
He didn’t take my blood.
He just *claimed* me.
And the moment he pulled back, the mark on my neck *blazed.*
Golden light spilled from the crescent moon, the wolf’s howl etched through it now glowing like molten metal. The sigil spread slightly, tendrils of light curling down my collarbone, branding me in front of everyone.
The crowd erupted.
Gasps. Whispers. A few claps. Lyra’s face twisted with fury.
“It’s real,” someone murmured. “The bond is true.”
“She’s his,” another said. “Fully marked.”
Kael wiped a drop of my blood from his lip with his thumb, then pressed it to the mark, sealing it. The light dimmed, but the sigil remained—visible, undeniable.
“Opal of the Ember Circle,” the High Priestess declared, “is now and forever Blood-Marked Consort to Kael Arcturus, Alpha of the Northern Packs. Her life is his. Her magic, his. Her fate, bound.”
I swallowed hard.
It was done.
I was his.
Not by choice.
Not by love.
But by blood, by magic, by the cruel hand of fate.
And now, the entire Council knew it.
“You did well,” Kael murmured, stepping back. His voice was low, but I heard the approval in it.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I snapped, adjusting my collar. “I did it to survive.”
“Same thing,” he said, smirking.
Lyra stepped forward again, her eyes narrowed. “Congratulations,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “You’ve secured your place at his side. For now.”
“And you’ve lost yours,” I said, meeting her gaze. “Better luck next Blood Moon.”
Her smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Oh, I’ll be back. And next time, I won’t be the one walking away empty-handed.”
She turned and walked off, her hips swaying, her message clear.
This wasn’t over.
“Ignore her,” Kael said, his hand returning to my back. “She’s all venom and no fangs.”
“She’s dangerous,” I said. “And she’s not wrong. You *did* feed her. You *did* let her into your bed.”
He turned to me, his expression unreadable. “I did what I had to for the truce. Just as I’m doing now.”
“So this is all political?” I asked, voice sharp. “The bond? The marking? Me?”
“Isn’t everything?”
I wanted to slap him. To scream. To tear the mark from my neck and throw it in his face.
But I didn’t.
Because he was right.
Nothing here was real. Not the bond. Not the alliance. Not even the hatred between us.
It was all a game.
And I was just another piece on the board.
The Council began to disperse, the tension easing now that the bond had been confirmed. Kael guided me toward the exit, his grip firm, possessive.
“We need to talk,” he said.
“About what? How to play the happy couple for the cameras?”
“About the Archives,” he said, voice low. “You were looking for something the other night. In the library.”
My breath caught.
He *knew.*
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, keeping my voice steady.
“Don’t lie,” he said. “I smelled the ink. The old parchment. You were searching for your mother’s records.”
I froze.
He *knew.*
“Why?” I whispered. “Why would you cover up her death? Why let me believe it was you?”
He didn’t answer. Just looked at me, his gold eyes unreadable.
And then—
A flash.
Blinding light.
I turned, shielding my eyes, and saw a dozen cameras pointed at us. Reporters—vampire, fae, witch—shoving microphones forward.
“Kael! Opal! Over here!”
“Is it true you’ve claimed her?”
“Was the bond consensual?”
“Did she seduce you to infiltrate the Council?”
Kael stepped in front of me, blocking the worst of it. “No comment,” he growled.
But one reporter, a vampire with sharp cheekbones and a predatory smile, pushed forward. “We have sources saying she was seen with a dagger at the ritual. That she intended to assassinate you. Is that true?”
The questions stopped.
The hall fell silent.
Every eye turned to me.
My blood ran cold.
Kael didn’t move. Didn’t speak. But I felt it—the shift in his energy. The suspicion. The *doubt.*
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, forcing calm into my voice.
“Then let’s see your hands,” the reporter said, smirking. “Let’s see if there’s still blood on them.”
Before I could react, Kael grabbed my wrist and turned my hand over, palm up.
There, faint but visible, was a thin, healed cut—where I’d cut myself during the ritual.
“That’s not—” I started.
“It’s blood,” the reporter said, snapping a photo. “And it’s fresh.”
“She bled for the ritual,” Kael said, his voice cold. “Just like I did.”
“But only one of you had a weapon,” the reporter said, backing away. “Interesting.”
The cameras flashed again.
Whispers spread like wildfire.
“She *was* going to kill him.”
“She’s a spy.”
“The bond was forged in deception.”
Kael turned to me, his expression unreadable. “You want to explain that?”
“Not here,” I said, my voice low. “Not now.”
He studied me for a long moment. Then, slowly, he nodded. “Later. My chambers. We’re not done talking.”
He released my wrist, but the bond hummed between us, tighter than ever.
The reporters dispersed, but the damage was done.
I was no longer just the Alpha’s consort.
I was the witch who’d tried to kill him.
The liar. The infiltrator. The threat.
And now, the entire Council knew it.
Kael guided me through the corridors, silent, his grip unrelenting. The bond pulsed with every step, a constant reminder of what I’d done—and what I still had to do.
I would find the truth.
I would break the bond.
I would have my revenge.
But as I walked beside him, the mark on my neck still burning, the cameras still flashing in my mind—
I couldn’t shake the feeling that the game had just changed.
And this time, I wasn’t the only one playing.
He was watching me now.
And he wasn’t going to look away.