The morning after our first time, the world didn’t end.
It ignited.
Not with fire. Not with war.
With rumor.
By dawn, the keep was alive with whispers—soft at first, like the rustle of leaves before a storm, then rising, swelling, until it was a roar. Wolves paused in the corridors, their ears twitching. Fae attendants exchanged glances behind their hands. Vampires lingered in doorways, their smiles too sharp, their eyes hungry. The scent of pine and iron, jasmine and fire—ours—hung thick in the air, but beneath it, something darker. Something dangerous.
We had consummated the bond.
The mark was real.
And Kael had never marked anyone before.
I felt their eyes on me as I walked through the keep, my hand in Kael’s, the bond pulsing between us like a second heartbeat. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t lower my gaze. Let them see. Let them know. I wasn’t just his fated mate. I wasn’t just a hybrid witch who’d come to destroy him.
I was the woman who’d stayed.
The woman who’d saved him.
The woman who wore his mark like a crown.
And if they had a problem with that—
They could take it up with me.
***
The summons came at midday.
A blood-red scroll, sealed with the crest of the Vampire Citadel of Nox—three obsidian daggers crossed over a crescent moon—delivered by a silent vampire in black silk. No words. No warning. Just the weight of it in my hand, cold and final.
Lady Seris Vale. You are cordially invited to attend a private audience with Prince Cassien Nox at sundown. Matters of interspecies alliance require immediate discussion.
Not a request.
A challenge.
I stood in the war room, the scroll clenched in my fist, the scent of pine and iron sharp in my lungs. The fire in the hearth crackled, casting long, clawed shadows across the stone. Kael stood at the head of the table, his golden eyes burning, his jaw tight.
“You’re not going,” he said, his voice low, dangerous.
“I have to,” I said, meeting his gaze. “He’s not summoning you. He’s summoning me. If I don’t go, he’ll use it as proof that I’m weak. That I’m hiding. That the bond has broken me.”
“The bond hasn’t broken you,” he growled, stepping closer. “It’s forged you. But Cassien doesn’t see strength. He sees opportunity. And he’ll try to take you from me.”
“He can try,” I said, lifting my chin. “But he won’t succeed.”
He didn’t answer. Just reached for me—his hand sliding to my waist, pulling me against him, his breath hot on my neck. The bond flared—hot, electric. Our pulses synced. My breath caught.
“You’re mine,” he murmured, his lips brushing my ear. “Not because of the bond. Not because of fate. But because you chose me. And I choose you. Every damn day.”
“And I choose you,” I whispered, pressing my palm to his chest, feeling the steady thud of his heartbeat. “But I’m not your prisoner. I’m your equal. And if I don’t face him, I’m not just failing myself. I’m failing us.”
He stared at me—really stared—and for the first time, I saw it.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For me.
“If he touches you,” he said, his voice raw, “I’ll rip his throat out.”
“Then make sure he doesn’t,” I said, stepping back. “But don’t follow me. Don’t interfere. Let me handle this. Alone.”
He didn’t like it. I could see it in the tension of his shoulders, the way his scent flared, the way his wolf prowled just beneath the surface. But he nodded.
“One hour,” he said. “If you’re not back by then, I’m coming for you.”
“I’ll be back,” I said, turning toward the door. “But if you do come—” I glanced over my shoulder, smirking, “—make it a rescue worth remembering.”
He didn’t smile.
Just watched me go.
And I felt his gaze on my back until the door closed behind me.
***
The Vampire Citadel of Nox was a fortress of glass and shadow—towering spires of black obsidian rising from the cliffs, bridges of silver thread spanning the chasms, stained-glass windows glowing with enchanted blood. The air was thick with the scent of roses and decay, the silence broken only by the distant echo of music—cellos and violins, slow, seductive, dangerous.
I was escorted through the halls by two silent vampires, their eyes glowing crimson, their movements precise. The walls were lined with portraits—ancient vampires, their faces frozen in eternal beauty, their eyes sharp as glass. I didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Just walked, my boots silent on the marble, my magic humming beneath my skin.
They led me to a grand chamber—a circular room with a domed ceiling painted with constellations, a massive fireplace at its center, and a single obsidian throne raised on a dais. Cassien sat there, dressed in crimson silk, his dark hair loose, his smile too sharp.
“Lady Vale,” he purred, rising as I entered. “How… delightful to see you.”
“Prince Nox,” I said, stopping just before the dais. “I wasn’t aware we were on speaking terms.”
He laughed—low, mocking. “We weren’t. But circumstances change. Wars end. Enemies fall. And sometimes—” he stepped down, his boots silent on the stone, “—the most dangerous alliances are born from the ashes of betrayal.”
“You don’t want an alliance,” I said, my voice steady. “You want a blood-bond.”
He didn’t deny it. Just smiled, stepping closer, his scent flooding the air—spiced wine, danger, something darker. “You’re perceptive. I admire that. But you’re also reckless. You challenged the Council. You killed Elira. You marked the Alpha. And now—” his gaze dropped to my shoulder, where the edge of the mark peeked from beneath my tunic, “—you wear his claim like a trophy.”
“It’s not a trophy,” I said, lifting my chin. “It’s a vow.”
“And yet,” he murmured, stepping closer, “you’re here. Alone. Unprotected. Vulnerable.”
My magic flared—crimson sparks dancing at my fingertips—but I didn’t move. Didn’t back away. Just held his gaze, my storm-gray eyes burning. “I’m not vulnerable. I’m free. And if you think you can take me from him—”
“I don’t need to take you,” he said, cutting me off. “I just need you to choose me.”
Before I could react, he moved.
Fast.
Too fast.
One hand shot out, gripping my wrist, pulling me against him. The other lifted, his thumb brushing my lower lip. The bond screamed—a living thing caught in the crossfire—but I didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch. Just stared at him, my breath steady, my magic flaring.
“Three exchanges,” he whispered, his breath hot on my skin. “Three bites. Three sips of blood. And you’ll be mine. Bound by blood. Bound by oath. Bound by pleasure.”
“I’m already bound,” I said, my voice low, dangerous.
“By fate,” he said, his lips brushing my ear. “But blood-bonds are stronger. Deeper. More… intimate.”
And then—
He bit me.
Not deep.
Not to draw blood.
Just enough.
His fangs grazed the pulse point on my neck, a whisper of pain, a jolt of heat, and the bond screamed. My magic flared—crimson and wild—but it was too late. The first exchange had begun. The blood-bond was forming, thread by thread, pulling at the edges of my soul.
“You feel it,” he murmured, his tongue tracing the mark. “The pull. The need. It’s not just the bond. It’s us.”
“No,” I gasped, struggling, but he was too strong, his grip like iron, his body a wall of heat and muscle. “I don’t belong to you. I belong to him.”
“And yet,” he said, biting again—deeper this time—drawing blood, dark and rich, humming with magic. “You’re still here. Still letting me taste you. Still letting me claim you.”
The second exchange.
The bond was fraying. The magic was flickering. I could feel it—the tug in my chest, the way my pulse was syncing with his, not Kael’s.
“Stop,” I whispered, my voice breaking. “Please—”
“The third bite seals it,” he said, his lips brushing my neck. “And then you’ll be mine. Forever.”
I closed my eyes.
And then—
I felt it.
Not the bond.
Not the blood-bond.
Him.
Kael.
His presence—storm and iron, dominance and something softer—crashed into the chamber like a hurricane. The doors exploded inward, splintering into shards of wood and glass. The fire roared to life, the flames twisting into the shape of a wolf. The constellations on the ceiling flared, crimson and gold, witch and wolf entwined.
And then—
He was there.
Not shifting. Not roaring.
Just appearing.
Like a shadow given form.
Like a storm given voice.
“She’s mine,” he snarled, his voice raw, feral, a predator’s warning.
Cassien didn’t flinch. Just turned, still holding me, still pressing his fangs to my neck. “Kael,” he said, smiling. “How… punctual.”
“Let. Her. Go.”
“Or what?” Cassien said, his grip tightening. “You’ll kill me? In front of her? After everything she’s seen? After everything she’s survived?”
Kael didn’t answer.
Just moved.
Fast.
Blinding.
One moment he was across the room.
The next—
He was on Cassien.
His claws—long, silver, deadly—slashed across the vampire’s chest, sending him flying backward, my blood dripping from his fangs. I stumbled, but Kael was already there, his arms wrapping around me, his body a wall of heat and muscle.
“Are you hurt?” he growled, his golden eyes burning into mine.
“I’m fine,” I said, my voice shaky. “He didn’t—”
“He bit you,” Kael said, his voice dark. “Twice. The blood-bond is forming.”
I looked at Cassien—he was rising, his wounds already healing, his smile too sharp. “Two exchanges,” he said. “One more, and she’s mine. Bound by blood. Bound by oath. Bound by—”
Kael didn’t let him finish.
He lunged.
Not with claws.
Not with fangs.
With magic.
His hand shot out, a wave of golden energy slamming into Cassien, pinning him against the wall. The vampire snarled, struggling, but the magic held—crimson and gold, witch and wolf entwined, surging from Kael’s palm, from the bond, from us.
“The bond is sealed,” Kael said, his voice low, final. “The mark is real. And if you ever touch her again—” he stepped closer, his fangs bared, “—I’ll rip your heart out and feed it to the wolves.”
Cassien laughed—low, mocking. “You think love makes you strong? That this bond makes you invincible? You’re nothing. A half-fae abomination. And she—” his gaze flicked to me, “—is just a weapon you’ve failed to control.”
“She’s not a weapon,” Kael said, not looking at him. “She’s my equal. My partner. My truth.”
And then—
He broke the bond.
Not the blood-bond.
The one between them.
His hand clenched into a fist, and Cassien screamed—a high, piercing sound—as the psychic link between them—forged in centuries of political games, blood pacts, and silent wars—shattered. The vampire’s eyes widened. His body convulsed. And then—
He went still.
“You’ve severed our alliance,” Cassien said, his voice raw. “The Council will hear of this.”
“Let them,” Kael said, stepping back. “But if you come near her again—” he pulled me against his chest, his arm wrapping around me, “—I won’t just break the bond. I’ll break you.”
Cassien didn’t answer.
Just stared at us—really stared—and for the first time, I saw it.
Fear.
Not for himself.
For us.
Because we weren’t just fated mates.
We were the storm.
And we would burn the world down before we let anyone take us apart.
***
We left the citadel in silence, our steps swift, our breaths even. The bond pulsed between us—warm, unbroken, alive—but beneath it, something deeper. Something fiercer.
“You came,” I said, my voice soft.
“I told you I would,” he said, his hand tightening in mine.
“You didn’t have to,” I said. “I could have handled him.”
“I know,” he said, turning his head, his golden eyes burning into mine. “But I wanted to. I wanted to show him. To show the world. That you’re not just my mate.”
“Then what am I?” I whispered.
He stopped, pulling me against him, his body a wall of heat and muscle. “You’re mine,” he growled, his lips brushing mine. “And I’m yours. No more lies. No more games. No more running.”
“No more running,” I agreed, my hands tightening on his shoulders. “We face the future together.”
He nodded. “And when the time comes—” His eyes flashed gold. “We burn it down.”
I smiled—small, fierce, real.
“Together.”
Outside, the whispers continued.
But inside—
There was only us.
And the fire that would burn the world down.