I woke tangled in silk and memory, the scent of iron and embers clinging to my skin like a second pulse. Moonlight streamed through the high windows of Kael’s chambers, painting silver stripes across the bed, the floor, the curve of his shoulder where he lay beside me. My breath caught. His chambers. Not mine. I hadn’t returned to my room. After the kiss—after the visions, the fire, the unbearable rightness of his mouth on mine—I must have followed him here. Or he’d carried me. I didn’t remember. The last thing I recalled was the willow’s silver leaves whispering around us, the bond flaring gold, and his voice, rough with something raw: “Stay with me.”
And I had.
Now, the weight of that choice pressed down on me, heavier than the black silk sheets tangled around my legs. The Dusk-mark beneath my collarbone still glowed faintly, pulsing in time with the bond, but it felt… different. Not just reacting. Settling. Like it had found its home.
I shifted, trying to slip from the bed without waking him. My bare skin brushed against the cool silk, and that’s when I saw it.
A new mark.
Low on my hip, just above the curve of my pelvis, a sigil glowed silver against my skin—three interwoven lines, like wind and fire and blood, spiraling into a single point. It wasn’t there last night. I would have felt it. Seen it. And yet… it looked ancient. Familiar. Like it had always been part of me.
I pressed a hand to it.
Heat surged through me—low, insistent, pooling in my belly. Not pain. Need. A deep, primal pull toward the man beside me. My breath hitched. My skin burned. The bond throbbed, a live wire strung between us, feeding on the contact.
How did it get there?
I didn’t remember. Not the pain of it being carved. Not the heat of magic sealing it. Not even the touch of his hands, his mouth, his body on mine.
But my body did.
It remembered the way his fingers had traced my hip. The way his mouth had burned a path down my stomach. The way his voice had dropped when he whispered, “You’re mine.”
Had we…?
No. I would have remembered that. The joining. The claiming. The way he’d fill me, stretch me, make me scream his name. I’d have felt it. Known it.
Wouldn’t I?
A sound.
From the doorway.
I looked up.
Kael stood there, bare-chested, his silver hair loose, his coat discarded over a chair. He wore only black trousers, low on his hips, the sigils etched into his skin glowing faintly in the dim light. His silver eyes held mine—dark, unreadable, but alive with something I couldn’t name.
“You’re awake,” he said, voice rough with sleep.
“I didn’t—” I started, my hand still pressed to the mark. “I don’t remember—”
“You came to me,” he said, stepping into the room. “Half-dressed. Trembling. You said you couldn’t fight it anymore.”
My breath caught. “I don’t—”
“You don’t remember,” he finished, moving closer. “The bond fever. The need. The way you begged me to touch you.”
“I didn’t beg.”
“You did.” He stopped at the edge of the bed, his gaze dropping to the mark on my hip. “You said, ‘Mark me. Claim me. Make me yours.’”
My stomach twisted. “I wouldn’t—”
“You did.” He reached out, his fingers brushing the sigil. The moment his skin met mine, the mark flared, heat surging through me, so intense I gasped. My back arched. My thighs clenched. “And I did.”
“You—” I pulled away, scrambling back. “You took advantage of me.”
“I gave you what you asked for.” His voice was low, controlled, but I saw it—the flicker in his eyes, the tension in his jaw. “You were fevered. The bond was screaming. You came to me, Thunder. You wanted this.”
“I was out of my mind.”
“So was I.” He stepped closer, his hand finding mine, pulling it back to the mark. “But my hands didn’t lie. My magic didn’t lie. This sigil—it’s not just a claim. It’s a promise. A vow. I bound you to me not because of duty. Not because of politics. But because I can’t live without you.”
“You don’t know me.”
“I know your breath,” he said, his thumb stroking the inside of my wrist, where my pulse hammered. “I know the way your heart races when I touch you. I know the sound you make when you come. The way your body arches into mine before you even realize you want it.”
“That’s the bond.”
“No.” He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “That’s us.”
The bond surged.
Heat. Not magic. Need. A deep, primal pull, low in my belly, spreading through my limbs. My breath came faster. My skin burned where he touched me. I clenched my thighs together, trying to suppress the ache.
“You don’t get to decide how I feel,” I whispered.
“I don’t.” He pulled back, his silver eyes holding mine. “But you don’t either. Not when your body betrays you every time I touch you.”
“You’re arrogant.”
“I’m honest.” He released my hand, stepping back. “The mark is sealed. The bond is deeper now. You can’t run from it. Not this time.”
“And if I try?”
“Then the fever will take you.” He turned, walking to the window. “Twelve hours apart, and it starts—pain, hallucinations, uncontrollable desire. And the longer you resist, the worse it gets. Eventually, it’ll kill you.”
My stomach dropped. “You’re saying I’m trapped.”
“No.” He looked back at me. “I’m saying you’re claimed. And if you try to leave, you’ll die.”
I stared at him. At the mark on my hip. At the way my body still hummed with phantom heat from his touch.
“You could have warned me,” I said, voice shaking. “You could have asked.”
“And you would have said no.”
“Because I wasn’t in my right mind!”
“You were in your mind,” he said. “The part of you that knows me. The part of you that’s been waiting for me just as long as I’ve been waiting for you.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Life isn’t fair.” He turned back to the window. “The High Queen cursed me into silence. Cassian framed you for murder. The world wants us dead. And you expect me to play fair?”
I didn’t answer.
Because he was right.
And that terrified me more than the mark, more than the bond, more than the fever.
He wasn’t the monster I thought he was.
He was something worse.
He was right.
“I need to get dressed,” I said, sliding from the bed, clutching the sheet to my chest.
“Your clothes are in the wardrobe,” he said. “And the bathroom. There’s a shower. Towels. Soap.”
I didn’t look at him. Just walked to the wardrobe, my bare feet silent on the stone. The black leather pants and tunic were there, folded neatly, along with a fresh robe. I grabbed them, then moved to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.
Safe. For now.
I turned on the shower, letting the water heat, the steam rising in thick clouds. I stripped, tossing the sheet aside, and stepped under the spray. The water was scalding, but I didn’t care. I needed to burn off the heat, the need, the truth that coiled in my gut like a living thing.
I scrubbed my skin raw, trying to erase the memory of his hands, his mouth, his body on mine. But it didn’t work. The mark on my hip still glowed, pulsing with every beat of my heart. The bond still hummed, a low, insistent thrum. And the visions—gods, the visions—played behind my eyelids like a film on loop: Kael kneeling, voiceless, as my mother screamed. Us, tangled in sheets, his body moving over mine. Cassian raising a dagger in a throne room thick with blood.
I pressed my forehead to the tile, letting the water beat down on my back.
What had I done?
I’d come here to destroy him.
And now?
Now, I was bound to him. Marked. Claimed. His.
And the worst part?
I wasn’t sure I wanted to fight it.
I stayed under the water until it ran cold, until my skin was numb, until the steam faded and the bathroom fell silent. Then I stepped out, drying off with a black towel, wrapping it around my body. I dressed slowly—leather pants, tunic, boots—armor again. But today, it didn’t feel like protection. It felt like denial. Like I was trying to hide from something I could no longer outrun.
I opened the bathroom door.
Kael was gone.
The bed was made. The room was empty. But the bond still hummed, a low, insistent thrum, pulling me toward the door.
I followed it.
The corridors were quiet, the ward sigils pulsing faintly along the marble. I moved through the Spire like a ghost, my boots clicking on stone, the mark on my hip glowing faintly beneath my tunic. The bond pulsed with every step, leading me toward the Council chamber.
When I reached the door, I stopped.
Voices. Low. Tense.
Kael. And another man—deep, smooth, laced with venom.
Cassian.
I pressed my ear to the door.
“—don’t care what you say,” Cassian was saying. “She’s a hybrid. A threat. And that bond? It’s a trick. A fabrication. You know it is.”
“The sigil confirmed it,” Kael said, voice cold. “Ninety-eight point seven percent alignment. It’s genuine.”
“Or she manipulated the test.”
“She didn’t.”
“And the mark?” Cassian pressed. “On her hip? That’s not Council protocol. That’s a personal claim. A lover’s mark.”
“It’s mine,” Kael said. “And it’s sealed.”
“Then you’ve broken Council law,” Cassian said. “Bonded partners are not permitted to claim each other without approval. You’ve overstepped, Kael. And if you’re not careful, you’ll find yourself on the wrong side of the High Queen.”
“I don’t care about the High Queen,” Kael said. “I care about Thunder. And I’ll break every law if it means keeping her safe.”
“And what about the Council?” Cassian asked. “What about unity? You’re putting us all at risk. One hybrid, and you’re willing to burn everything down?”
“She’s not just a hybrid,” Kael said. “She’s Dusk-blood. The last of her line. And if you touch her, Cassian, I’ll burn you alive.”
“You’re obsessed,” Cassian said. “She’s using you. Can’t you see it? She came here to destroy you. And now she’s wrapped you around her finger.”
“No.” Kael’s voice dropped, rough with something raw. “She came here to destroy the man she thought I was. But she stayed for the man I am.”
Silence.
Then Cassian, cold: “This isn’t over.”
“It never is,” Kael said.
Footsteps. Approaching the door.
I stepped back, pressing myself against the wall.
The door opened.
Cassian stepped out—tall, silver-haired, his eyes black with power. He didn’t look at me. Just walked past, his coat flaring like wings.
Then Kael.
He stopped when he saw me. His silver eyes darkened, sweeping over me with a heat that made my breath catch. His jaw clenched. His fingers curled into fists at his sides.
“You heard,” he said.
Not a question.
“Yes.”
“And?”
“And I don’t know what to believe.”
“Believe this,” he said, stepping closer, his hand finding mine. “I don’t care about the Council. I don’t care about the High Queen. I don’t care about the laws. I care about you. And I’ll break every one of them if it means keeping you alive.”
My throat tightened. “You shouldn’t have marked me.”
“I had to.” He lifted my hand, pressing it to the mark on my hip. “It’s not just a claim. It’s a shield. Cassian wants you dead. The High Queen wants you silenced. And if you’re not bound to me, they’ll take you. But now? Now, you’re mine. And I won’t let them touch you.”
“You didn’t ask.”
“And you would have said no.”
“Because I wasn’t in my right mind!”
“You were.” He stepped closer, his voice dropping. “You came to me. You begged me. You said, ‘I can’t fight it anymore. I need you. I want you.’”
My breath caught.
“And I gave you what you asked for.” His thumb stroked the inside of my wrist. “Because I want you too. Not because of the bond. Not because of duty. Because I’ve spent a lifetime waiting for you. And I’m not letting you go.”
The bond surged.
Heat. Not magic. Need. A deep, primal pull, low in my belly, spreading through my limbs. My breath came faster. My skin burned where he touched me.
“You don’t get to decide how I feel,” I whispered.
“I don’t.” He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear. “But you don’t either. Not when your body knows me before your mind catches up.”
And he was right.
Because as much as I wanted to hate him, to fight him, to run—
I couldn’t.
Not anymore.
The bond pulsed between us, alive, strong, unbreakable.
And for the first time, I didn’t want to break it.
I wanted to keep it.
“This doesn’t mean I forgive you,” I said, pulling back.
“It doesn’t have to,” he said. “But you can’t hate me like you planned.”
And he was right.
Because I couldn’t.
Not anymore.
“Then what?” I asked. “What happens now?”
“Now?” He stepped back, his silver eyes holding mine. “Now we fight. Together. We expose Cassian. We break the curse. And we build something new.”
“And if we die?”
“Then we die knowing we were us.”
The bond pulsed—soft this time, almost… pleading.
I looked at him—really looked at him. The man who’d let my mother die. The man who’d taken a curse meant for me. The man who’d searched for me for twenty years. The man who’d just marked me as his.
And I realized—
I didn’t want to destroy him.
I wanted to keep him.
But I couldn’t say it.
So I nodded.
“Then let’s fight,” I said.
He didn’t smile. Didn’t gloat.
Just reached for my hand.
And I let him take it.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure I wanted to let go.