The silence in Kael’s chambers was thick, suffocating—like the air before a storm breaks.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my back rigid, my hands clenched in my lap. The scent of blood still clung to my skin, metallic and warm. My lips tingled where they’d touched his, where I’d *kissed* him, not out of magic, not out of duty, but because for one reckless, breathless moment, I’d *wanted* to. The memory burned behind my ribs, sharp and undeniable. I’d saved his life. And in doing so, I’d shattered something inside myself.
He stood by the hearth, his silhouette carved from shadow and firelight. His coat was gone, his tunic unfastened at the collar, revealing the brand of his pack over his heart—the crescent moon with the wolf’s howl. He hadn’t spoken since I’d pulled away. Just stood there, still as stone, his gold eyes fixed on the dying embers, his breathing slow, controlled. Too controlled. Like he was holding himself together by a thread.
The bond hummed between us, a low, insistent pulse beneath my skin. Not pain. Not heat. But something deeper. Something that felt dangerously close to *connection*.
I didn’t want to feel it.
I didn’t want to feel *anything*.
“You should rest,” I said, my voice flat. “The poison’s neutralized, but your body needs time to recover.”
He didn’t turn. “You should leave.”
“I can’t,” I said. “The bond—”
“I know what the bond says,” he snapped, finally turning to face me. His eyes were sharp, unreadable. “But I’m not your keeper. You’re not my prisoner. You made your choice. Now live with it.”
My breath caught.
He wasn’t talking about the ritual.
He was talking about the kiss.
About the way I hadn’t pulled away.
“I didn’t do it for you,” I said, standing. “I did it to survive.”
“Liar,” he said, stepping closer. “You could’ve let me die. You could’ve walked away. But you didn’t. You *kissed* me, Opal. Not because the bond demanded it. Because *you* wanted to.”
“It was the magic,” I shot back, my voice trembling. “The ritual. The bond. It twists everything. Makes you feel things that aren’t real.”
“Then why does it feel real now?” he demanded, closing the distance between us. “Why does your pulse race when I look at you? Why does your magic rise when I touch you? Why did you fight at my side like you belonged there?”
I didn’t answer.
Because I didn’t know.
Because maybe—just maybe—it *was* real.
And that terrified me more than anything.
He reached up, his fingers brushing 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, stepping back. “Don’t use the bond against me.”
“I’m not,” he said, voice rough. “I’m reminding you of the truth. You want me. You *need* me. And no amount of denial is going to change that.”
“I don’t need you,” I said, but my voice wavered. “I don’t want you.”
He smirked. “Then why are you still here?”
“Because the bond won’t let me leave.”
“And if it did?” he asked, stepping closer. “If I broke it? If I set you free? Would you walk away? Or would you stay?”
I stared at him, my pulse racing. I didn’t know the answer. Didn’t want to know.
Before I could respond, a knock echoed through the chamber.
We both froze.
“Enter,” Kael said, stepping back, his mask of control sliding back into place.
The door opened. Silas stepped inside, his expression grim. “Alpha. We have a problem.”
Kael’s jaw tightened. “What is it?”
“Lyra Nocturne,” Silas said. “She’s in your private wing. Claims she has urgent information about the Iron Fangs.”
My stomach twisted.
Lyra.
Of course.
Just when I thought I couldn’t hate her more.
“She’s not allowed in this wing,” Kael said, voice cold.
“She’s already there,” Silas said. “Says she’ll only speak to you. And that she has proof.”
Kael exhaled sharply. “Fine. I’ll see her. Alone.”
“No,” I said, stepping forward. “If she’s lying, you shouldn’t be alone with her.”
Kael turned to me, his eyes sharp. “You don’t trust me?”
“I don’t trust *her*,” I said. “And the bond keeps us within ten feet. You think I’m going to let you walk into a trap without me?”
He didn’t argue. Just nodded. “Then come. But stay behind me.”
We followed Silas through the torch-lit corridors, the bond humming between us, the memory of the kiss still burning in my veins. The private wing was quieter, the stone walls lined with portraits of past Alphas, their eyes seeming to follow us as we passed. Kael’s chambers were at the end—the only ones with a private entrance, a symbol of his power, his isolation.
And there she was.
Lyra stood just outside the door, her back to us, her raven-black hair cascading over one shoulder. She wore a long, flowing robe of deep crimson, but it was the *shirt* beneath it that made my breath catch.
Kael’s shirt.
His Northern Pack insignia embroidered over the heart. The sleeves too long for her, the fabric slightly wrinkled, like she’d just pulled it on. Her hair was damp, as if she’d just stepped out of a bath. Water droplets glistened at the base of her throat.
She turned slowly, her lips curving into a smile that was all venom and no warmth.
“Kael,” she purred. “I was beginning to think you weren’t coming.”
My pulse spiked.
Kael didn’t move. Just stared at her, his expression unreadable. “What are you doing here, Lyra?”
“Waiting for you,” she said, stepping closer. “I heard about the attack. About the poison. I came to see if you were all right.”
“I’m fine,” he said, voice cold. “And you’re not welcome here.”
She ignored him, her gaze sliding to me. Cold. Calculating. “And you, little witch. Still playing consort?”
“Still wearing his clothes?” I shot back. “How… intimate.”
Her smile widened. “We *reconnected* last night. After the battle. He was weak. Vulnerable. Needed comfort.”
My breath caught.
Kael didn’t flinch. Just stepped in front of me, his presence a wall. “You’re lying.”
“Am I?” She reached up, unfastening the top button of her robe, letting it slip slightly off one shoulder. The mating mark was still there—deeper, older, a brand of possession. “You know what this means, Opal. You know what it means when an Alpha feeds his blood to a woman. When he lets her into his bed. When he marks her as his.”
“The bond supersedes all prior claims,” I said, forcing calm into my voice. “You were never his consort.”
“And yet,” she said, stepping closer, “he came to *me* last night. Not you. He needed me. And I gave him what he wanted.”
“You’re delusional,” I said, my voice trembling. “He was poisoned. He was with *me*. We performed a ritual—”
“A *blood-sharing* ritual?” she interrupted, her eyes gleaming. “How romantic. But tell me, witch—did he let you into his bed afterward? Did he hold you? Did he whisper your name in the dark?”
I didn’t answer.
Because he hadn’t.
And the silence was worse than any lie.
“I thought not,” she said, smiling. “Because he doesn’t *want* you. He *needs* you. There’s a difference. And when the moon is high, when his heat spikes, he’ll come to *me*. Just like he always has.”
“That’s enough,” Kael growled. “Leave. Now.”
She didn’t move. Just stepped closer, her scent filling the air—expensive perfume, blood, something dark and intoxicating. “You can deny it, Alpha. But the Council will hear the truth. They’ll know you’ve been with me. That you’ve always come back to me when the moon is high.”
“The Council doesn’t care,” I said, stepping around Kael. “The bond is law. The mark is real. And he is *mine*.”
She laughed—soft, cruel. “Oh, darling. You think a forced bond makes you his? You think a public marking gives you power? You’re nothing but a curse he has to endure. A witch who came here to kill him and failed.”
“And you?” I shot back. “A vampire who clings to the past. Who wears his scars like trophies. You’re not his consort. You’re his *mistake*.”
Her smile vanished.
For a second, I saw it—raw fury, a flash of fang. But then it was gone, replaced by icy calm.
“Careful, witch,” she said, stepping back. “You’re not the only one with secrets. And not the only one who can make them bleed.”
She turned to Kael, her voice sweet again. “I’ll be in the Council chambers. When you’re ready to admit the truth… you know where to find me.”
And then she was gone.
The corridor was silent.
The bond hummed between us, a live wire stretching back into the darkness where she’d stood.
I turned to Kael. “Was it true?”
He didn’t look at me. Just stared down the hall, his jaw clenched. “No.”
“You didn’t see her last night?”
“No.”
“You didn’t let her into your chambers? You didn’t—”
“I was with *you*,” he said, turning to me, his gold eyes burning. “The ritual. The bond. You were the only one who could save me. And you did. That’s the truth. That’s all that matters.”
But doubt was already creeping in.
Because if it wasn’t true… why was she wearing his shirt?
Why was her hair damp?
Why did she look so… satisfied?
“Then why does she have your shirt?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper.
He exhaled sharply. “I don’t know. Maybe she stole it. Maybe she’s lying. But I didn’t see her. I didn’t touch her. I didn’t—”
“You didn’t what?” I demanded. “You didn’t feed her? You didn’t let her into your bed? You didn’t promise her your mark?”
He flinched.
And in that split second, I saw it—regret. Guilt. Something raw and human.
“I did what I had to for the truce,” he said, voice low. “Just as I’m doing now.”
My breath caught.
“So it *was* true,” I said. “You *did* feed her. You *did* let her believe she was yours.”
“It was politics,” he said. “Not love. Not loyalty. Just power. Just survival.”
“And what about *me*?” I asked, my voice breaking. “Am I just another political move? Another pawn in your game?”
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.
“You’re not a pawn,” he said, voice rough. “You’re a force. A storm. And I don’t know if I can control you.”
“Then don’t,” I whispered. “Let me go.”
“I can’t,” he said. “The bond won’t let me.”
“Then break it,” I said. “Help me find the truth. Help me break it.”
He looked at me, his gold eyes burning. “And if the truth destroys us both?”
“Then we burn together,” I said. “But I won’t live in the dark.”
He didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
Just stood there, his hand still on my neck, the bond humming between us, the weight of everything unspoken hanging in the air.
And then—
A scream.
Sharp. Piercing. From the Council chambers.
We both froze.
“That was Lyra,” Silas said, stepping forward. “Something’s wrong.”
Kael didn’t hesitate. Just turned and ran, I close behind. The bond flared, a surge of heat that made my breath catch. We reached the Council chambers in seconds, the doors swinging open to reveal chaos.
Lyra stood in the center of the room, her robe torn, her hair wild, her face twisted with fury. In her hands—Kael’s shirt, now stained with blood.
“She attacked me!” Lyra shrieked, pointing at me. “She tore my robe! She tried to kill me!”
Every eye turned to me.
My blood ran cold.
“I didn’t touch her,” I said, my voice steady. “I was with Kael the entire time.”
“Liar!” Lyra screamed. “You’re jealous! You can’t stand that he came back to me!”
“That’s enough,” Kael growled, stepping in front of me. “No one laid a hand on you, Lyra. And if you don’t stop this farce, I’ll have you removed from the Citadel.”
She didn’t back down. Just held up the shirt, the blood glistening in the torchlight. “Then explain this. Explain why your shirt is torn. Why it’s covered in blood. Why I found it in my chambers—after you *left* me last night.”
The room fell silent.
Every eye turned to Kael.
He didn’t flinch. Just stared at her, his expression unreadable. “I don’t know how your chambers got my shirt. But I was with Opal last night. The ritual. The bond. Ask Silas. Ask the guards. I never left her side.”
“Then why does she have your blood on her hands?” a vampire lord demanded, stepping forward.
Lyra held up her fingers—streaked with crimson.
My breath caught.
It was *my* blood. From the ritual. From the cut on my palm.
But they didn’t know that.
They only saw the lie.
“She’s wearing your shirt,” a fae noble said, his voice cold. “She bears your mark. And now, your blood. What are we to believe, Alpha? That the witch is innocent? Or that you’ve been playing us all?”
Kael didn’t answer.
Just turned to me, his gold eyes searching.
And in that moment, I knew—
The bond wasn’t just a curse.
It was a battlefield.
And Lyra had just declared war.
“I came here to kill you,” I whispered, stepping back. “Not to be your shield.”
“And yet,” he said, stepping closer, “here you are.”
But the damage was done.
The whispers had already begun.
And I knew—
One way or another, this would end in blood.
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 her 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.