The night after we returned to Blackthorn Keep, the world changed.
Not with fire. Not with war.
With silence.
The keep was quiet—too quiet. No whispers in the halls. No murmurs from the wolves. No fae gliding through the shadows with knowing smiles. The air was thick with the aftermath of what we’d done—Elira dead, the bond sealed, the blood tie severed. The pack had bowed. The Council would hear. The truth would spread.
But none of it mattered.
Because I was alone in the suite, standing at the window, watching the northern cliffs where the storm had scoured the earth clean. The moon was full—huge, silver, hanging low in the sky like a promise. It pulsed in my blood, called to my wolf, made my skin hum with power. The bond flared beneath my skin—warm, insistent, alive—but Kael was not with me.
He was in the war room, finalizing the transition. Securing the pack. Sending word to the Council. Playing the Alpha. Playing the killer.
And I let him.
Because he needed this. Needed to prove—to himself, to them—that he was still in control. That he hadn’t broken.
But I knew the truth.
He had.
And so had I.
I pressed my palm to the glass, the cold seeping into my skin. The mark on my shoulder still burned—silver thorns intertwined with crimson vines, pulsing in time with my heartbeat. His bite. His claim. His *love*, though he hadn’t said the word yet. And I hadn’t either.
But I felt it.
In the way my breath caught when he touched me. In the way my magic flared when our pulses synced. In the way my body still remembered the kiss in the throne chamber—the slow, deep, *soft* one, not the desperate war cry that had come before.
I loved him.
Not because of the bond.
Not because of fate.
But because he had chosen me. Over power. Over blood. Over everything.
And I had chosen him.
Even when I’d come here to destroy him.
Even when I’d hated him.
Even when I’d nearly burned him alive.
And now—
Now I wanted him.
Not for survival.
Not for magic.
But for *us*.
***
The door opened behind me.
I didn’t turn. Didn’t need to.
I could feel him—the shift in the air, the storm of his scent, the way the bond flared, hot and electric, as he stepped into the room. His boots were silent on the stone. His breath was even. But I could feel it—the tension in his muscles, the way his pulse raced, the way his magic hummed beneath his skin.
“You’re still awake,” he said, his voice low, rough.
“So are you,” I said, turning.
He stood in the doorway, shirtless, his coat gone, his sleeves rolled up, revealing the scars on his forearms—old wounds, deep and jagged. His eyes glowed faintly gold, wolf-light. His chest was bare, carved from stone, the blood from the fight now washed away, the wound on his side sealed by my magic. He looked like a warrior. A king. A man who had just killed his grandmother and walked away unbroken.
But I saw the truth.
He wasn’t unbroken.
He was *mine*.
“The pack is secured,” he said, stepping closer. “Torin’s sent word to the Council. Lyra’s rallying the hybrids. The war is over.”
“For now,” I said, stepping toward him. “Elira’s gone, but the fight isn’t. The Council will still doubt. The fae will still resist. Cassien will still want me.”
He stopped just inches from me, his chest brushing mine, his heat seeping into my skin. “Let him try.”
My breath caught.
And then—
I reached for him.
Not to pull him close. Not to claim him.
To *touch* him.
My fingers traced the scar on his chest—the one from when he was a boy, when they’d tried to break him. He sucked in a breath, his body tensing, but he didn’t pull away. Just let me touch him, his golden eyes burning into mine.
“You don’t have to be strong for me,” I said, my voice soft. “Not anymore.”
“I’m not strong,” he said, his voice rough. “I’m just… here.”
“And that’s enough,” I said, stepping closer, my body pressing against his. “You’re here. I’m here. We’re alive. We’re together.”
He didn’t answer.
Just cupped my face, his thumb brushing my lower lip, the bond flaring—hot, electric. Our pulses synced. Our breaths tangled. The moonlight poured through the window, casting silver light across his skin, across mine, across the mark on my shoulder.
And then—
I kissed him.
Not desperate. Not furious.
Slow.
Deep.
Ours.
My lips met his with a gentleness that stole my breath, my body arching into his, my hands sliding to his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat. He didn’t take control. Didn’t dominate. Just let me lead, his mouth moving with mine, his breath mingling with mine, the bond pulsing between us—warm, unbroken, alive.
And when I pulled back, his forehead rested on mine, his breath warm against my lips. “You’re not what I expected,” he murmured.
“Neither are you,” I whispered.
And then—
I took his hand.
And led him to the bed.
***
I didn’t speak.
Didn’t need to.
The bond knew. The magic knew. The moon knew.
He followed, his hand warm in mine, his presence a solid wall against the silence. The fire in the hearth had burned down to embers, glowing like dying stars in the black stone. The air was thick with the scent of pine and iron, of magic and something darker—*us*.
I turned to him, my fingers finding the buttons of his trousers. He didn’t stop me. Just watched me, his golden eyes burning, his breath unsteady. One by one, I undid them, revealing the sharp V of his pelvis, the trail of dark hair leading below the waistband.
My mouth went dry.
But I didn’t hesitate.
I slid the fabric down his hips, letting it pool at his feet. He stepped out of it, bare before me—muscle and scar, power and pain. His cock was already half-hard, thick and heavy, pressing against his stomach. I didn’t look away. Just reached for it, my fingers brushing the tip, feeling the heat, the pulse.
He sucked in a breath, his body tensing. “Jade—”
“Shh,” I said, pressing a finger to his lips. “Let me do this.”
And then—
I knelt.
Not in submission. Not in reverence.
In *care*.
My hands slid up his thighs, over the scars, the old wounds, the places where he’d been broken and rebuilt. I pressed my lips to his hip, then lower, trailing kisses down the inside of his thigh. He trembled, his fingers tangling in my hair, his breath ragged.
And then—
I took him in my mouth.
Not deep. Not fast.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A vow.
My lips closed around the head of his cock, my tongue tracing the slit, tasting salt and power. He groaned, his hips bucking, his fingers tightening in my hair. I took more—inch by inch—until he was fully in my mouth, the tip brushing the back of my throat. I didn’t gag. Didn’t pull away. Just took him, my hands sliding to his ass, holding him in place.
“Jade,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “You don’t have to—”
“I want to,” I said, pulling back, my lips brushing the head. “I want to taste you. To feel you. To *know* you.”
And then—
I did it again.
Deeper this time. Faster. My mouth moving over him, my tongue swirling, my hands gripping his ass. He groaned, his body trembling, his magic flaring—golden and feral, wolf and storm. The bond pulsed—hot, electric—and I could feel it, deep in my bones. The connection. The power. The way our magic merged, how it now responded to my will like an extension of my own body.
“I’m close,” he said, his voice raw. “I don’t want to come like this. Not the first time.”
I pulled back, my lips swollen, my breath ragged. “Then make it last.”
He didn’t answer.
Just lifted me, carried me to the bed, and laid me down.
And then—
He stripped me.
Not fast. Not rough.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Like worship.
His hands traced every curve, every scar, every piece of me that had been broken and rebuilt. He kissed my collarbone, my breasts, the dip of my waist. He didn’t rush. Didn’t push. Just touched me—slow, aching, reverent. And when he reached the apex of my thighs, he didn’t go inside.
Just there.
Pressing gently, heat flooding my core. I gasped, arching into him, my fingers digging into the sheets.
“You feel it,” he murmured, his breath warm against my ear. “The magic. The bond. The way your body knows me.”
I didn’t answer.
Couldn’t.
Because he was right.
My magic flared—crimson and wild, witch and wolf entwined—surging through me, through the sheets, through the sigils carved into the bedframe. The bond pulsed—hot, insistent—feeding on the contact, on the heat, on the way my body still remembered the bath, the way it still wanted him.
And then—
He moved.
His fingers slid inside me—slow, deliberate, a single finger pressing deep. I cried out, arching into him, my head falling back, my magic flaring, the bond screaming with need.
“You’re not lying,” I gasped, my voice breaking. “The magic—it knows. It sees the truth.”
He didn’t answer.
Just added another finger, curling them just right, his thumb pressing against my clit. I moaned, my body trembling, my core clenching around him.
“I’ve never wanted to be yours more,” he growled, his voice rough, dark. “Not as your Alpha. Not as your mate. But as your equal. Your partner. Your truth.”
Tears burned in my eyes.
Because he wasn’t just saying it.
He was proving it.
With every touch. Every breath. Every pulse of the bond.
And then—
I came.
Not hard. Not violent.
But deep. Shattering. A wave of heat and light and magic that tore through me, through the bed, through the sigils, flaring like a supernova. The room trembled. The bond pulsed—hot, blinding, unbearable.
And when I came back to myself, he was still there, his fingers still inside me, his thumb still on my clit, his golden eyes burning into mine.
“You’re not what I expected,” I whispered, my voice rough.
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Neither are you.”
And then—
He positioned himself between my thighs.
His cock—thick, heavy, glistening with pre-come—pressed against my entrance. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t pull away. Just looked at him, my storm-gray eyes locking onto his.
“This changes nothing,” I said, my voice barely a whisper.
He smiled—slow, devastating. “It changes everything.”
And then—
He pushed in.
Not fast. Not rough.
Slow.
Deliberate.
A vow.
I gasped, my body stretching to accommodate him, my magic flaring, the bond screaming. He didn’t stop. Just kept going—inch by inch—until he was fully inside me, buried to the hilt, his hips pressed against mine.
“Jade,” he gasped, his voice breaking. “You’re so tight. So damn perfect.”
I didn’t answer.
Just wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper.
And then—
He moved.
Slow at first. Then faster. Deeper. Harder. His hips rolled, his cock stroking that spot inside me that made me see stars. I moaned, arching into him, my fingers digging into his back, my magic flaring, the bond pulsing—hot, electric, unbearable.
“You’re mine,” he growled, his mouth crashing into mine, his tongue sweeping into my mouth. “No one else. Not Mira. Not Elira. Not the Council. You’re mine.”
“And you’re mine,” I gasped, biting his lip. “Not because of the bond. Not because of fate. But because you *chose* me. And I choose you. Every damn day.”
He didn’t answer.
Just fucked me harder, his thrusts deep, his body a wall of heat and muscle. The magic surged between us—crimson and gold, witch and wolf, flaring like a living flame. The sigils on the bedframe glowed, the sheets tangled, the fire in the hearth roared to life.
And then—
I came.
Hard.
Violent.
A scream tore from my throat, my body convulsing, my core clenching around him. He followed—growling, his hips stuttering, his cock pulsing as he came inside me, hot and thick, filling me, claiming me.
The bond exploded—light, sound, magic—crimson and gold flaring between us like a supernova. The mark on my shoulder burned brighter, spreading, the silver thorns wrapping around my collarbone, the crimson vines curling toward my heart.
And then—
He collapsed on top of me, his body a wall of heat and muscle, his breath ragged against my neck.
I didn’t push him away.
Just held him, my hands sliding to his back, my fingers tracing the scars, the old wounds, the places where he’d been broken and rebuilt.
And when he lifted his head, his golden eyes burning into mine, I knew.
This wasn’t just sex.
This wasn’t just magic.
This was *love*.
And it was ours.
“You’re not what I expected,” I whispered, my voice rough.
He pressed a kiss to my temple. “Neither are you.”
And then—
He kissed me.
Not desperate. Not furious.
Slow.
Deep.
Theirs.
Outside, the keep was silent.
But inside—
There was only us.
And the fire that would burn the world down.