The first sign wasn’t pain.
It was warmth.
A slow, golden pulse beneath my skin, low in my belly, like sunlight pooling in a hidden place. I felt it as I stood on the terrace, the dawn wind tugging at my hair, the bond humming beneath my skin like a second heartbeat. The Citadel lay below, quiet after the storm, its obsidian spires rising like teeth against the pale sky. The torches had burned low, their flames steady now, no longer flickering with fear. The world had changed. The Council had been reborn. Vexis was gone. My mother was alive. And I—
I was no longer just a weapon.
I was something else.
Something whole.
And then—
I felt it.
Not magic. Not the bond. Not the moonfire that had burned through my veins for weeks.
Something… new.
It didn’t surge. Didn’t flare. Just was. A quiet hum, a steady glow, like a candle lit in a dark room. I placed a hand low on my abdomen, my fingers trembling. My breath caught. My pulse spiked. The bond flared—a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath my feet. My magic rose, not in defense, not in anger, but in recognition.
It knew.
Before I did.
“Opal?”
Kael’s voice. Rough. Concerned.
I didn’t turn. Didn’t need to. I felt him before he spoke—the heat of his body, the scent of pine and old magic, the golden pulse of his presence syncing with mine. He stepped beside me, his coat pulled tight against the wind, his golden eyes scanning my face. He wasn’t in half-shift. Wasn’t armored. Just… present. Human, in a way I’d never seen him before.
“You’re pale,” he said, his hand already reaching for me. “Are you hurt?”
I shook my head, my fingers still pressed to my stomach. “No. I’m… I don’t know.”
He didn’t press. Just stepped into me, his body a furnace, his arm sliding around my waist, pulling me against him. The bond flared again—a deeper pulse, warmer, richer. My magic surged, not in fire, not in light, but in harmony. And then—
I felt it.
Again.
That quiet hum. That golden glow.
And this time, it answered.
Not to me.
But to him.
My breath stilled.
“Kael,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Something’s… happening.”
He didn’t flinch. Just held me tighter, his hand splayed across my lower back, his thumb brushing the curve of my hip. “Tell me.”
“I don’t know how to say it,” I said, my fingers trembling. “It’s not pain. Not magic. It’s… alive.”
He went still.
Then slowly, carefully, he moved his hand lower—just an inch—his palm resting just above where mine pressed into my belly. His breath caught.
Because he felt it too.
“It’s not just the bond,” he said, his voice low. “It’s… something else.”
“Yes,” I whispered. “And it’s… responding to you.”
He didn’t speak. Just stared at me, his golden eyes burning. Not with suspicion. Not with fear.
With wonder.
And then—
He knelt.
Right there on the cold stone, his knees pressing into the frost, his hands cradling my hips. He didn’t look up. Just pressed his forehead to my stomach, his breath warm through the thin fabric of my robe. The bond flared—a deep, resonant pulse that made the ground tremble beneath our feet. My magic surged, not in fire, not in light, but in recognition.
And then—
I felt it.
Stronger.
Clearer.
A pulse. A beat. A heartbeat.
My breath caught.
“Kael,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “It’s… it’s a child.”
He didn’t move. Just stayed there, his forehead pressed to my stomach, his hands warm on my hips, his breath steady. And then—
He spoke.
Not to me.
To it.
“You’re safe,” he said, his voice rough. “You’re loved. And I will burn the world to keep you.”
Tears burned in my eyes.
He wasn’t just saying it to comfort me.
He meant it.
And that—
That was more dangerous than any lie.
Because I wasn’t just fighting for revenge anymore.
I wasn’t just fighting for the bond.
I was fighting for a future.
And I didn’t know how to come back from that.
We didn’t speak as we moved through the torch-lit corridors, the bond humming between us, the silence heavier than any words. My hand stayed low on my belly, my fingers pressed to that quiet warmth, that golden pulse. Kael walked beside me, his presence a wall, his silence heavier than any vow. He didn’t ask. Didn’t question. Just stayed. Watched. Waited.
And then—
We reached the scrying chamber of Veilhaven.
The moonstone was dim, the candles burned to stubs. The air was thick with the scent of old magic and damp stone, the silence heavier than any battle cry. Maeve stood in the center, 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.
Or it had been.
Now, her skin was clean. The mark was gone. Broken. Severed by the Fae High Court. And yet—
She still looked afraid.
“You came,” she said, her voice trembling.
“We need your help,” I said, stepping forward. “Something’s… happening.”
She didn’t ask. Just stepped to the scrying pool, her hands trembling as she lit the candles around it. The flames burned blue, casting long shadows on the walls. “Sit,” she said, her voice low. “Let me see.”
I didn’t hesitate. Just knelt by the pool, my hand still pressed to my stomach. Kael stayed behind me, his hands on my shoulders, his presence a wall. Maeve placed her fingers on my wrist, her touch light, her magic probing. The bond flared—a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath our feet. My magic rose, not in anger, not in defense, but in recognition.
And then—
She gasped.
Her hand flew to her mouth. Her eyes widened.
“Opal,” she whispered. “You’re… you’re with child.”
My breath caught.
“And it’s not just human,” she said, her voice trembling. “It’s… it’s both. Fae. Witch. And something… more.”
“What do you mean?” Kael asked, his voice low.
She looked at him. “The bond. It’s not just tying you together. It’s awakening something. In her. In you. In the child.”
“Moonfire,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. “It’s in the child.”
She nodded. “And it’s strong. Stronger than anything I’ve seen. The magic… it’s not just inherited. It’s evolving. Adapting. Growing with the bond.”
“And the risks?” I asked.
She didn’t answer. Just looked at me, her eyes filled with tears. “The child is powerful. But so is the void. Vexis may be gone, but his magic lingers. And if he senses this—”
“He’ll come for it,” I said, my voice breaking. “For the bond. For the magic.”
“Then we protect it,” Kael said, stepping forward. “We protect her.”
Maeve turned to him. “And if the child’s magic is too strong? If it consumes her? If the bond—”
“Then I’ll break it,” he said, not hesitating. “Before I let her die.”
My breath caught.
He wasn’t just saying it to control me.
He meant it.
And that—
That was more dangerous than any lie.
Because I wasn’t just fighting for my mother anymore.
I wasn’t just fighting for the truth.
I was fighting for a life.
And I didn’t know how to come back from that.
We returned to the Citadel as the first light of dawn broke over the mountains, painting the stone spires in blood. The torches flared to life as we approached, their flames turning silver for a single, blinding second—moonfire, responding to the bond, to the truth, to us. The Northern Packs stood in formation, their presence a wall of loyalty. The vampires watched from the upper balconies, their faces impassive. The Fae lingered in the shadows, their glamours shifting like smoke.
And then—
They saw us.
The crowd stilled. The whispers died. Every eye turned to my hand, still pressed to my stomach. To Kael, his arm around my waist, his presence a wall. To the way he stood beside me, not in front, not behind, but equal.
“She’s with child,” a Northern Pack envoy murmured as we passed. His eyes flickered to my belly, to the faint glow beneath my robe. “The bond is evolving.”
“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 our chambers as the sun rose over the Citadel, its light warm on my skin. The fire roared to life as we crossed the threshold, the flames turning silver again, casting long shadows on the walls. Kael closed the door behind us, the lock clicking into place. The bond hummed between us, not as a curse.
But as a promise.
He didn’t speak. Just turned and pulled me into his chest, his arms locking around me, holding me like I was something fragile. Something his. My breath trembled. My heart broke. My fingers found the buttons of his coat, undoing them one by one. His skin was warm beneath my touch, his chest rising and falling with each ragged breath. He didn’t stop me. Just watched me, his gold eyes burning, his hands gripping my hips like I was something sacred. Something ours.
“Say it,” he whispered, his voice rough. “Say you want this. Say you want us.”
“I want you,” I said, my voice breaking. “I want this. I want everything.”
He didn’t hesitate.
He kissed me slow, deep, his hands tangling in my hair, his body pressing against mine. The bond flared—a surge of heat that made the ground tremble beneath our feet. My magic erupted, not in fire, not in light, but in pulse. Silver energy curled from my skin, not burning, not scorching—but revealing.
For a single, blinding second, the entire room was flooded with silver light—and in that light, I saw it.
The truth.
Not just in the bond.
Not just in the magic.
But in us.
His scars. His fears. His love.
And mine.
The hatred. The vengeance. The grief.
All of it—laid bare.
And then—
The light faded.
The room stilled.
And he was above me, his body a furnace, his eyes gold and burning. “Then let it burn,” he whispered. “Let it break. Let it remake us.”
“And if it destroys us?” I whispered.
“Then we’ll burn together,” he said, stepping closer. “But I won’t live in the dark.”
And then—
The bond flared.
Not in pain.
Not in fire.
But in need.
It wasn’t the heat cycle. Not the moon’s pull. Not magic.
It was us.
And for the first time, I didn’t fight it.
I just… let go.
My hands found his face, my fingers brushing his jaw, his scars, the rough edge of his stubble. His breath hitched. His body stilled. And then—
He kissed me back.
Slow. Soft. Deep.
No force. No magic. No bond.
Just need.
And as the fire burned low, its flames turning silver again, casting long shadows on the walls, 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 lay beside Kael, his arms locked around me, his heartbeat syncing with mine—
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.