The air in the east wing was thick with silence, but my body still burned.
I’d stormed out of the Grand Hall like a storm breaking, my bare feet slapping against the cold obsidian, my breath ragged, my pulse roaring in my ears. The bond flared with every step—white-hot, punishing—twisting through my wrist, my chest, my core. It wasn’t just the magic. It was the jealousy. The humiliation. The way Mira had touched him, the way he hadn’t pulled away, the way her voice had curled around his name like smoke around flame.
You used to love when I wore your clothes.
He gave it to me on our third night together.
Her words echoed in my skull, sharp as knives. I could still see the bite mark on her neck—pale, crescent-shaped, his. A claim. A memory. A truth I couldn’t unsee. And Kaelen—cold, controlled, impassive—hadn’t denied it. Hadn’t even looked at her like she meant nothing. He’d just stood there, letting her press against him, letting her speak, letting her remind me that I wasn’t the first woman to wear his mark.
And now, as I paced the length of my chambers—barefoot, breathless, the silver silk of my gown whispering against my thighs—I realized something worse.
I wasn’t just angry.
I was hurting.
And that was the most dangerous betrayal of all.
I stopped in front of the mirror. My reflection stared back—pale face, wild hair, eyes too dark, too wide. The bond mark on my wrist pulsed faintly, a silver spiral that seemed to mock me. I reached for it, pressing my fingers over the light, trying to smother it, to erase it. But it burned through my skin, a constant, aching reminder.
You’re mine.
He’d said it like it was law. Like it was fate. Like it was something I could never escape.
But Mira had been his too.
Before me.
And if he could let her wear his jacket, let her touch him, let her claim him in front of the entire court—what did that make me?
Another conquest?
Another political tool?
Or was I just the latest in a long line of women he’d used and discarded?
I clenched my jaw. No. I wouldn’t let myself believe that. I wouldn’t let myself feel that. I had come here for revenge. To destroy the Blackthorn line. To avenge my mother. Not to fall into some pathetic love triangle with a vampire queen who thought she still had a claim on him.
And yet—
My fingers trailed to my neck, brushing the tender spot where he’d bitten me last night. Not a mating mark. Not a claim. Just… a touch. A moment of need. A surrender I still couldn’t explain.
And still, my skin tingled where his mouth had been.
I dropped my hand like it had burned me.
“You’re weak,” I whispered to my reflection. “You’re letting him in. You’re letting her get to you.”
But the truth was, I couldn’t stop it. The bond wasn’t just magic. It was emotion. It was memory. It was hunger. And every time I tried to deny it, it punished me—fever, pain, visions of a past I didn’t remember. And now, with Mira here, with her scent still clinging to his jacket, with her voice still ringing in my ears, the bond flared hotter, sharper, as if it knew I was fighting it.
I turned from the mirror and strode to the window. The sun was high, the Carpathian peaks sharp against the sky. The Dominion sprawled below—towers of black stone, courtyards lit with torches even in daylight, the Moon Shrine rising like a blade from the earth. It looked like a fortress. A prison. And I was trapped at its heart.
“You don’t get to do this,” I said aloud, my voice low, dangerous. “You don’t get to bind me, use me, touch me—and then let her walk in here like she still owns you.”
I didn’t hear him come in.
One moment, I was alone. The next, the air shifted—thickened—and I knew he was there.
I didn’t turn. Didn’t acknowledge him. Just kept staring out at the peaks, my hands gripping the stone sill.
“You’re angry,” Kaelen said, his voice rough, quiet.
“Observant,” I snapped.
He didn’t move closer. Just stood behind me, his presence like a storm gathering. I could feel him—his heat, his scent, the low thrum of his power. The bond pulsed between us, a silver thread pulling tight.
“Mira’s presence is a political move,” he said. “She’s testing me. Testing us.”
“And you let her,” I said, turning. “You let her touch you. You let her wear your jacket. You let her remind me that I’m not the first woman to be marked by you.”
His eyes burned gold. “She was never marked.”
“She has a bite.”
“A feeding scar,” he said, voice flat. “Not a mating mark. Not a bond. She was a political alliance. Nothing more.”
“She said you loved it when she wore your clothes.”
“She said a lot of things,” he said, stepping closer. “Most of them lies.”
“And the bite?”
“She asked for it,” he said. “I gave her what she wanted. Blood. A taste. A memory. But not my bond. Not my soul. That’s yours.”
I flinched.
Not from the words.
From the way he said them—low, rough, truthful. No arrogance. No control. Just… honesty.
And that scared me more than anything.
“You expect me to believe that?” I said, my voice shaking. “You expect me to stand there and watch her press against you and believe she meant nothing?”
“I don’t expect you to believe anything,” he said. “I expect you to know. The bond doesn’t lie. You feel it. You know when I’m lying. You know when I’m hiding. And right now, I’m not.”
I clenched my jaw. He was right. The bond did know. It could sense deception, could twist with every lie. And right now, it wasn’t punishing me. It wasn’t flaring with pain. It was… humming. Low. Steady. True.
But still—
“You didn’t stop her,” I said. “You didn’t push her away. You just stood there, letting her touch you, letting her claim you in front of everyone.”
“And if I had,” he said, stepping closer, “what would that prove? That I’m weak? That I’m afraid of her? The Council watches. The vampires watch. They’re looking for cracks. If I react too strongly, if I show jealousy, if I act like I care—”
“Then they’ll know you do,” I finished.
He nodded. “And they’ll use it. Against you. Against me. Against the Dominion.”
I looked away. “So you let her do it. For politics.”
“For survival,” he said. “And for you.”
I turned back. “Don’t say that.”
“Why not?” he said, stepping closer. “You think I don’t feel it? The jealousy? The rage? The way my wolf snarled when she touched me? I wanted to rip her hand off. I wanted to mark you right there, in front of them all, so no one would ever doubt who you are to me.”
My breath caught.
He didn’t stop.
“But I didn’t. Because if I lose control, if I let my emotions rule me, I lose everything. And I will not lose you.”
“You don’t have me,” I whispered.
“I do,” he said, stepping so close I could feel his breath on my skin. “And not because of the bond. Not because of the Council. Because you’re here. Because you stayed. Because you fought for me, even when you hate me.”
I shook my head. “I didn’t fight for you. I fought for myself.”
“Liar,” he said, his voice rough. “You slapped her because she touched what’s yours.”
My stomach dropped.
He was right.
I had.
And that was the worst part.
Because I didn’t just want to destroy him.
I wanted to claim him.
“You want me,” he said, his hand lifting, his knuckles brushing my cheek. “Even if you hate me.”
I didn’t pull away. Couldn’t. His touch burned through me, searing into my skin, igniting the bond. My breath hitched. My core clenched. My pulse jumped beneath his fingers.
“It’s the bond,” I whispered.
“No,” he said, stepping closer, his body pressing against mine. “It’s not. The bond amplifies. It doesn’t create. You wanted me before the bond. You wanted me when you touched the altar. You wanted me when you came here to kill me.”
“I came here to destroy the curse,” I said, my voice shaking.
“And instead,” he said, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, “you bound yourself to me. You let your magic answer mine. You let the bond take you. Why?”
“I didn’t—”
“Why?” he demanded, his voice sharp, commanding. “You could’ve run. You could’ve fought. But you let it happen. You wanted it.”
“I didn’t!”
“Then why did your magic wake?” he said, his eyes blazing. “Why did the bond accept you? It doesn’t bind just anyone, Pearl. It chooses. And it chose you.”
I stared at him, my chest heaving, my mind racing. I didn’t have an answer. I didn’t understand it. All I knew was that when I’d touched the altar, something inside me had awakened. Something old. Something powerful. And it had reached for him—reached for Kaelen—like it had been waiting for him my entire life.
And that terrified me more than anything.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t smirk. Just held my gaze, his thumb stroking the pulse point on my wrist, his heat searing into my skin.
“Good,” he said. “Hate me. Fight me. But don’t pretend this isn’t real. Don’t pretend you don’t feel it.”
I clenched my jaw. “You think this changes anything? You think a few pretty words erase what you are? What your father did?”
“I think,” he said, stepping closer, “that you’re standing here, trembling, because you’re afraid of how much you want me. And I think you’re afraid that if you let yourself feel it, you’ll lose yourself.”
My breath caught.
He was right.
And that was the most dangerous truth of all.
“I won’t be controlled,” I said, my voice low, dangerous. “I won’t be another one of your conquests. I won’t be another woman you use and discard.”
“You’re not,” he said, his hand tightening in my hair, his other arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me against him. “You’re the only one who’s ever fought me. The only one who’s ever made me feel like I’m not just an Alpha. The only one who’s ever made me want more than power.”
My heart pounded.
My body ached.
And the bond—always the bond—pulsed between us, not with pain, but with something else.
Something dangerously close to hope.
“You don’t get to say that,” I whispered. “You don’t get to touch me and say things like that and expect me to believe you.”
“I don’t expect you to believe me,” he said, his voice rough. “I expect you to feel it. Right here.” He pressed his palm to my chest, over my heart. “You feel it. The pull. The need. The fire. That’s not the bond. That’s us.”
I wanted to deny it.
Wanted to shove him away.
But I couldn’t.
Because he was right.
And as I stood there, pressed against him, my breath mingling with his, my body betraying me, I realized something worse.
I didn’t just want to destroy him.
I wanted to keep him.
And that was the most dangerous vow of all.
Outside, the sun began to set.
The Masque was coming.
And tonight, the world would see us.
Not as enemies.
Not as prisoners.
But as something else.
Something neither of us could name.
Something neither of us could escape.
And as Kaelen held me, his breath warm against my neck, his hands possessive, his body aching for mine, I knew one thing for certain:
This wasn’t just about revenge anymore.
It was about claiming.
And I would burn the world before I let her take what was mine.