ELARA

The carriage was made of literal shadow.

I sat across from the Shadow Lord, Kaelix, watching him watch me. His silver eyes never left my face, studying me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

Or a sacrifice he was preparing to kill.

"You keep staring at me," I said, breaking the suffocating silence.

"I'm memorizing you."

"Why?"

"So I remember your face when you're gone."

The casual way he said it made my stomach turn. "How thoughtful. The executioner wants to remember his victim."

"I'm not an executioner."

"No? What do you call someone who buys people to kill them?"

He didn't answer. Just turned to look out the window at the passing Fae realm, all impossible colors and wrong physics.

"How did you know?" I asked. "At the auction. How did you know I was what you needed?"

"The auction master described you as having possible Wild Court bloodline. Young, healthy, virgin." He said it clinically, like listing ingredients. "You met the ritual requirements."

"That's all I am to you? A checklist?"

"Yes."

The blunt honesty stung worse than a lie would have. "And Lady Seraphine? The woman who bid fifty thousand for me?"

His jaw tightened. "My ex-fiancée."

"She really wanted to stop you from getting me."

"She wanted to spite me. Seraphine enjoys causing difficulties."

"Is she the one who cursed you?"

He looked at me sharply. "You heard about that?"

"Everyone at the auction was talking about it. The cursed Shadow Lord, dying slowly, buying virgins for blood sacrifice." I leaned forward. "So is she? The one who cursed you?"

A long pause. Then: "Yes."

"Why?"

"I broke our engagement three hundred years ago. She took it poorly."

"By cursing you to death? That's more than 'poorly.'"

"She loved me." He touched his chest absently. "Loved me so much she'd rather kill me than let me belong to anyone else. Ironic, isn't it?"

"That's not love. That's obsession."

"The line is thinner than you'd think." He gestured out the window. "We're here."

I looked out and my breath caught.

The Shadow Court palace rose from the landscape like a knife. Black obsidian, sharp angles, towers that pierced the purple sky. Beautiful in a terrifying way.

"It's very dark," I said.

"I'm the Shadow Lord. What did you expect? Sunshine and flowers?"

"Maybe a window or two?"

His lips twitched. Almost a smile. "There are windows. You just can't see them from this angle."

The carriage stopped. He opened the door and stepped out, then offered his hand.

I ignored it and climbed out myself. My legs were shaking but I wouldn't let him see.

An older Fae man waited at the entrance. He had kind eyes and silver hair, dressed in scholarly robes.

"My lord," he said, his eyes sliding to me with something like pity. "You brought her."

"I paid a hundred thousand gold, Lysander. Where else would she be?"

"I had hoped..." Lysander trailed off, then sighed. "Never mind."

"Say it," Kaelix commanded.

"I hoped you might have a change of heart."

"I don't have a heart. The curse took it decades ago." Kaelix pulled me forward by my chain. "Prepare the ritual chamber.

Blood Moon rises in forty minutes."

"My lord, please…"

"That's an order."

Lysander's face fell. He looked at me one more time, then bowed and left.

"He doesn't want you to kill me," I observed.

"Lysander has an unfortunate attachment to human life."

"Must be nice to have someone care whether you live or die."

Kaelix glanced at me but said nothing.

We entered the palace. Servants scattered as we passed, their eyes down. Terrified of him.

"How many?" I asked as we climbed a massive staircase.

"How many what?"

"How many girls before me? I'm not the first, am I?"

He stopped walking. Turned to face me. "No. You're not the first."

"How many?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes. I want to know how many times you've done this. How many girls you've murdered trying to break your curse."

A muscle in his jaw ticked. "Twelve."

The number hit me like a slap. "Twelve girls. You've killed twelve girls."

"Yes."

"And it never worked? Not even once?"

"No. The curse would crack, then seal back stronger. As if it was feeding on their deaths." He started walking again. "But you're different."

"How?"

"At the auction, when they put the collar on you, you bled. Just a drop. But I smelled it across the hall."

"That's disturbing."

"I have excellent senses." He stopped at a door. "Your blood smells like Wild Court. Like ancient forests and primal magic. Like Fae magic."

"I'm human."

"No, you're not." He opened the door to reveal lavish chambers. "Your mother was Fae. Wild Court, specifically."

"That's impossible. My mother died when I was five."

"Wild Court Fae die when separated from their homeland too long," he said, pushing me into the room. "They wither. Fade. Like plants torn from soil. Your father borrowed gold to save her from a disease. We cured her. Three years later, she died anyway. Not from sickness. From being away from the Wild Court."

I stared at him. "You're saying my mother was Fae and died because she stayed with us? With my father and me?"

"It's the most likely explanation."

"Then why would she stay? Why wouldn't she go back?"

"Love makes people do foolish things."

The way he said it, bitter, tired, made me wonder what foolish things love had made him do.

"So what does that make me?" I asked. "If my mother was Fae?"

"Half-Fae. Wild Court royal blood, by the smell of it." He moved to a table, poured water into a cup. "Which makes you exactly what the ritual requires. Not just any virgin sacrifice. A virgin with royal Fae blood."

"So I'll actually die permanently this time. Your curse will actually break."

"Yes."

"And that makes you happy."

He handed me the cup. "It makes me hopeful. I haven't been hopeful in three hundred years."

I threw the water in his face.

He didn't even flinch. Just stood there, water dripping down his perfect, cold face.

"Feel better?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Pity." He wiped his face with his sleeve. "The ritual chamber is being prepared. You have twenty minutes. I suggest you make peace with whatever gods you believe in."

"I don't believe in gods."

"Smart girl."

A knock at the door. Lysander entered carrying a massive ancient book.

"My lord, I've brought the ritual texts as requested."

"Thank you." Kaelix took the book, then glanced at me. "Lysander, explain to Elara what the claiming entails."

Lysander went pale. "My lord, surely you…"

"I'm giving her the courtesy of knowing what's going to happen. Explain it."

Lysander looked at me with those kind, sad eyes. "The ritual requires a claiming first, before the sacrifice."

"A claiming?" I asked.

"The Shadow Lord must... claim you. Mark you as his. Body, blood, and spirit." He couldn't meet my eyes. "Only then can your death channel the curse breaking."

Understanding dawned slowly, horribly.

"You mean he has to..." I couldn't finish the sentence.

"Yes," Kaelix said flatly. "I need to take your virginity. It's part of the ritual."

The room spun. "No."

"The contract compels you."

"I don't care about the contract!" My voice rose. "You can't…you can't do that!"

"I can. I will. Because the alternative is dying slowly over the next three weeks, feeling my body age and decay." His silver eyes were emotionless. "I'd do anything to avoid that. Even this."

"Even rape and murder."

He flinched. Actually flinched.

"Yes," he said quietly. "Even that."

My legs gave out. I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. "I hate you."

"I know."

"I hope your curse kills you."

"It will. In about three weeks if this doesn't work."

"Good."

Lysander cleared his throat awkwardly.

"My lord, the chamber is ready. The Blood Moon rises in ten minutes."

Kaelix walked over to me. Offered his hand.

I looked at it. At him. At the door that led to my death.

"If I refuse?" I asked.

"The contract forces you to obey. You'll walk to the chamber whether you choose to or not."

"Then why offer your hand?"

"Because you deserve the illusion of choice, at least."

I laughed. Bitter and broken. "How noble."

But I took his hand anyway. Because what choice did I have?

He pulled me to my feet. His hand was cold. Dead cold.

"Will you at least tell me your real name?" I asked as we walked. "Before you rape and murder me?"

"Kaelix. Just Kaelix."

"Well, Just Kaelix. I hope you remember this. I hope killing me haunts you for the rest of your miserable immortal life."

"It will," he said simply. "They all do."

We reached the ritual chamber. The doors were carved with symbols I didn't understand. Red light seeped through the cracks.

"Last chance," Kaelix said. "Any last words?"

"Will you remember me? Or will I just be number thirteen?"

He looked at me. Really looked at me. "I'll remember."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Then he opened the doors, and I walked into hell.

The ritual chamber was circular, carved from black obsidian. Runes covered every surface, glowing red in the Blood Moon's light. Candles surrounded a raised stone platform in the center.

It looked like an altar.

I was the sacrifice.

"Get on the platform," Kaelix said.

"No."

"The contract…"

"I know! The contract will force me anyway. But for one minute, let me pretend I have a choice. Let me pretend I'm a person and not a thing you bought."

Something flickered in his eyes. "One minute."

We stood there in the red light. The Blood Moon hung overhead, fat and bloated.

"Do you ever wish you could go back?" I asked. "To before the curse?"

"Every day."

"Would you marry Seraphine?"

"No. I didn't love her. We would have destroyed each other eventually anyway."

"Then why did she curse you?"

"Because I left. Because I chose loneliness over her. She couldn't accept that."

"So she decided if she couldn't have you, no one could."

"Yes."

The Blood Moon reached its peak. The runes blazed brighter.

"Time's up," Kaelix said softly.

I climbed onto the platform. The stone was cold beneath me. I lay back, staring up at the red moon.

"Elara," Kaelix said. "Look at me."

I did.

"If there was another way, I would take it."

"But there isn't."

"No."

"Then stop apologizing and just do it."

He knelt beside the platform. Started removing my chains, my collar. His hands were gentle despite everything.

"By blood and shadow," he began, "I claim this sacrifice..."

The ritual words echoed through the chamber. Ancient. Powerful.

"...as flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood..."

He leaned over me. His face inches from mine.

"I'm sorry," he whispered so quietly I almost didn't hear.

Then he kissed me.

It was supposed to be brutal, I think.

Forceful. Part of the ritual.

But it wasn't.

It was almost gentle. Hesitant.

Like he didn't want to do this any more than I wanted him to.

His hands moved to my shift, pushing it up. I squeezed my eyes shut.

"I'll make it quick," he murmured against my lips. "I promise."

"That doesn't make it better."

"I know."

His hands moved higher. I was shaking so hard I thought I might break apart.

Then he stopped.

His hands stilled on my thighs.

"Open your eyes," he said.

I did.

He was looking at me. Really looking. At my tears. My terror. My resignation.

"I can't," he said.

"What?"

"I can't do this." He pulled away, letting my shift fall. "I thought I could. But I can't."

"The curse will kill you."

"I know."

"Then why…"

"Because you're not just a sacrifice." He stood, ran a hand through his hair. "You're a person. And I'm not... I'm not this much of a monster."

Hope bloomed in my chest. Painful and fragile. "You're letting me go?"

"I don't know. The contract still…"

That's when the magic exploded.

Green light erupted from my skin. I gasped, feeling power surge through my veins like lightning. Wild, uncontrolled, ancient.

"What's happening?!" I screamed.

"Your magic!" Kaelix stared at me in shock. "It's awakening!"

Then I was bleeding.

Not from a wound. My skin was weeping silver blood, Fae blood, as the magic tore through me.

The ritual seized the power. The runes shifted, drinking in my blood.

Pain. Incredible, searing pain.

I screamed.

"Elara!" Kaelix grabbed me. "You have to control it!"

"I don't know how!"

"Pull it back! Breathe!"

But I couldn't. The magic was burning me alive from the inside.

Through my blurring vision, I saw black veins on Kaelix's chest start to crack. The curse mark. It was breaking.

It was working.

But I was dying.

"Elara!" Kaelix's voice was desperate.

"Hold on!"

Then he did something. I felt his shadow magic wrap around mine, forcing it back inside me, sealing it away.

The ritual shattered.

The light died.

Everything went black.

The last thing I heard was Kaelix's voice: "Stay with me. Please. Stay with me."

Then nothing.

ELARA

Pain.

That was the first thing I felt when consciousness returned. Not physical pain exactly, but something deeper. Like my blood had been set on fire and was still smoldering in my veins.

I opened my eyes.

The ceiling above me was obsidian carved with constellations. Unfamiliar. Beautiful.

Wrong.

Where was I?

I tried to sit up. My body screamed in protest. Every muscle felt like I'd been torn apart and poorly stitched back together.

"Easy," a soft voice said. "Don't move too quickly."

I turned my head. A young woman sat beside the bed, lesser Fae by her appearance, with kind brown eyes and servant's clothing. She held a cup of water.

"Who...?" My voice came out as a croak.

"I'm Mira. I've been tending to you." She helped me sit up, bringing the cup to my lips. "You've been unconscious for three days."

Three days?

The ritual. The Blood Moon. Kaelix's hands on me. The kiss. Then...magic. Exploding through my body like lightning. Burning me from the inside.

I looked down at my arms and went cold.

Silver veins traced beneath my skin like glowing spiderwebs. They pulsed faintly with each heartbeat. Beautiful and terrifying.

"What...what is that?" I whispered.

"Wild Court magic," Mira said quietly. "It awakened during the ritual. Everyone in the palace is talking about it. About you."

"I don't understand." I touched one of the veins. It felt warm under my fingertips. "I'm human."

"No, miss. You're not." Mira set the cup aside. "You're half-Fae. Wild Court royal blood, they say. That's why the Shadow Lord bought you."

Memories crashed back. The auction. His cold declaration: I need you to die.

"Where is he?" I asked. "Kaelix?"

"Lord Shadowthorne is in his study. Should I fetch him?"

"No." The word came out sharper than I intended. "No. I need to... I need to think."

I swung my legs off the bed. The room spun.

"Miss, you shouldn't..."

"I'm fine." I wasn't fine. I was the opposite of fine. But I needed to move. Needed to do something other than lie in bed with glowing veins and questions I couldn't answer.

I stood. Swayed. Caught myself on the bedpost.

The room was lavish, clearly part of Kaelix's private chambers. Obsidian walls, plush carpets, windows showing eternal twilight. The bed I'd been sleeping in was enormous, covered in black silk sheets.

Not a dungeon. Not a cell.

Why?

"Where are my clothes?" I asked.

"Burned, I'm afraid. They were covered in blood. But we've provided new ones." Mira gestured to a wardrobe.

I moved toward it, each step an effort. Inside hung dozens of gowns in dark colors, blacks, deep purples, midnight blues. All beautiful. All expensive.

None of them mine.

I pulled out the simplest dress I could find, a dark gray shift that wouldn't look out of place on a servant. I wasn't going to play dress-up in his fancy clothes.

"Will you need help dressing, miss?"

"No. I can manage. Thank you."

Mira hesitated, then bobbed a curtsy and left.

Alone, I struggled into the dress. The silver veins glowed brighter when I moved, pulsing with energy. I could feel the magic under my skin now that I was paying attention. Dormant but present. Like a sleeping beast I'd accidentally woken.

What had happened during that ritual?

I remembered Kaelix stopping. Pulling away. Saying he couldn't do it.

He'd saved me.

The monster who bought me to kill me had saved my life instead.

Why?

I needed answers.

I moved toward the door. Tried the handle.

It opened.

No locks. No guards outside. I could just... leave?

I stepped into the corridor. It was empty, lit by floating orbs of shadow magic. The palace was silent except for distant sounds, servants moving far away, the rustle of wind through unseen windows.

I walked.

I didn't know where I was going. Didn't have a plan. Just needed to move, to put distance between myself and that bed where I'd almost died.

Except I couldn't.

The further I walked from Kaelix's chambers, the worse I felt. At first it was just unease. Then discomfort. Then actual pain.

By the time I'd gone fifty feet, agony lanced through my chest like a knife. I gasped, doubling over.

What the hell?

I stumbled back toward the chambers. With each step closer, the pain lessened. By the time I reached the doorway again, it was gone completely.

I tried again. Same result. Fifty feet and the pain became unbearable.

"Trying to run?"

I spun around.

Kaelix stood in the corridor behind me. He looked terrible. Dark circles under his eyes. Paler than before. The black veins I'd glimpsed on his chest during the ritual were visible at his collar now, creeping up his neck.

He was dying. Faster than before.

"What did you do to me?" I demanded.

"Saved your life." His voice was flat.

Exhausted.

"That's not what I mean. I can't... I can't leave. It hurts when I try to go more than fifty feet from..." I gestured at his chambers. "From you."

Understanding flickered in his eyes. "The ritual."

"What about it?"

"The claiming wasn't completed, but it was started. It created a partial bond." He ran a hand through his hair. "You're tethered to me now. We can't separate without pain."

"How do I break it?"

"You don't."

"There has to be a way..."

"There isn't." He moved past me into his chambers. "This is permanent. You're bound to me until one of us dies."

I followed him inside, fury rising. "You had no right!"

"I had every right. I bought you." The moment the words left his mouth, he flinched. "I didn't mean..."

"But you did. That's what you think, isn't it? That you own me?"

"No. That's not..." He sank into a chair, looking suddenly much older than his appearance suggested. "I thought I did. When I bought you. But I was wrong."

"And now I'm stuck with you anyway."

"Yes."

I wanted to scream. To throw something. To run far away from this palace and this impossible situation.

But I couldn't run. Not anymore.

"I was ready to die," I said quietly. "On that platform. I'd made my peace with it. And then you stopped. Why?"

He looked up at me. Those silver eyes were tired. Haunted.

"Because you're not just a sacrifice. You're a person. And I'm not..." He trailed off. "I'm not as much of a monster as I thought I was."

"That's not good enough."

"I know."

We stared at each other. The monster and the girl he'd almost murdered. Bound together now by magic neither of us wanted.

"You have Wild Court royal blood," he said finally. "Did Mira explain?"

"She said I was half-Fae."

"More than half, I think. During the ritual, your magic awakened. It was..." He shook his head. "I've never seen anything like it. Pure. Ancient. You're not some distant descendant. You're close to the royal line. Very close."

"My mother."

"Yes. Which means every court will want you now. Either as an ally or a threat."

"And you're keeping me here because...?"

"Because if I let you go, they'll kill you. Or worse."

"How noble," I said sarcastically. "The man who bought me to murder me is now protecting me from murder."

"I know how it sounds."

"Do you?" I moved closer. "Do you know what it's like to have every choice stripped away? To be bought and sold like cattle? To be told your life isn't your own?"

"No," he admitted. "I don't."

"Then don't pretend you're protecting me. You're protecting your asset."

"That's not..."

The door burst open.

Lysander rushed in, his usual composed demeanor shattered. "My lord, we have a problem."

Kaelix stood. "What?"

"The Light Court. They know about her. About what she is." Lysander looked at me with something like pity. " Lady Seraphine has sent assassins."

My stomach dropped. "Assassins?"

"They breached the outer defenses ten minutes ago. They're in the palace. Coming here."

Kaelix's entire demeanor changed. The exhausted, guilty man vanished. In his place stood the Shadow Lord, cold, lethal, dangerous.

"How many?" he asked.

"At least a dozen. Maybe more."

"Get Ravyn. Full defensive formation around my chambers." He turned to me. "You stay here. Don't leave this room. Don't open the door for anyone but me or Lysander."

"I can fight..."

"You can't." He cut me off. "Your magic is untrained. You'd be more danger to yourself than to them."

"Then teach me!"

"After we survive this." He moved toward the door. Shadows gathered around him like living things. "Lysander, with me."

"My lord." Lysander hesitated. "Your curse. You're not strong enough for a full battle."

"Then I'll die fighting." Kaelix looked back at me one last time. His expression was unreadable.

"Stay alive, Elara. That's an order."

Then he was gone.

I stood alone in the chamber, listening to the sounds of combat echoing through the palace. Shouts. The clash of weapons. The crackle of magic.

They were coming to kill me.

And I had no idea how to stop them.

The silver veins pulsed under my skin, as if responding to my fear. Magic stirred inside me, wild, untamed, dangerous.

I looked at my hands. At the power I didn't know how to control.

Maybe Kaelix was right. Maybe I was more danger to myself than anyone else.

But I'd be damned if I'd just stand here waiting to die.

Not again.

I moved toward the door, every muscle tense. I could feel Kaelix through the bond now, a faint presence at the edge of my awareness.

Fighting. Struggling.

Dying.

The door exploded inward.

An assassin stood in the doorway, Light Court by his golden armor. He had a sword in one hand and fire magic dancing in the other.

"There you are," he said, smiling. "The Wild Court heir. Lady Seraphine sends her regards."

He raised the sword.

Magic exploded from my hands.

Vines erupted from the stone floor, impossible, but real. They wrapped around the assassin's legs, his arms, his throat. Thorns tore through his armor like paper.

He screamed.

I screamed too, horrified by what I was doing. By the power pouring out of me uncontrolled.

The vines kept growing. Kept tightening.

Until he stopped screaming.

I stared at the body. At what I'd done.

My first kill.

More footsteps in the corridor.

More assassins coming.

And I had no idea how to stop the magic now that I'd started it.

The silver veins blazed like fire under my skin.

Wild Court magic, ancient and deadly.

And it was all mine.

ELARA

I woke to the sound of shattering glass.

My eyes flew open. The room was dark except for the silver glow of my veins pulsing beneath my skin. Three days since the failed ritual and they still hadn't stopped glowing.

Another crash. Closer this time.

I sat up, heart hammering. "Kaelix?"

No answer.

The bond between us pulled taut with sudden alarm. I felt his emotions surge through the connection, fury, determination, pain.

He was fighting.

I scrambled out of bed just as the door burst open.

Kaelix stood in the doorway, breathing hard. Blood splattered across his face and chest. His silver eyes blazed with lethal intent.

"Stay in this room," he commanded. "Lock the door. Don't open it for anyone but me."

"What's happening?"

"Assassins. Light Court." He turned to leave.

"How many?"

"Too many." He glanced back at me. "If I don't come back…"

"Don't say that."

"If I don't come back," he continued, voice hard, "the bond will kill you within hours. So I suggest you pray I survive this."

Then he was gone.

I stood frozen for three seconds. Then I moved.

Screw hiding in the bedroom like a damsel.

I grabbed the closest thing to a weapon I could find, a letter opener from his desk. Pathetic, but better than nothing.

The bond pulled at me. I could feel Kaelix fighting, feel his exhaustion, feel the curse draining his strength with every spell he cast.

He was going to lose.

And if he died, I died.

I ran.

The corridor outside was chaos. Shadow warriors fighting Light Court assassins. Magic crackling through the air. Blood on the marble floors.

I pressed against the wall, trying to stay out of sight.

"There!" Someone shouted.

I turned.

Three assassins broke away from the main fight, heading straight for me. Golden armor gleaming. Light magic burning in their hands.

"The Wild Court heir! Get her!"

I ran.

Behind me, footsteps pounding. Getting closer.

"Kaelix!" I screamed through the bond, through the air, through my terror.

A door ahead. I burst through it, slammed it shut, looked for something to barricade it with…

The door exploded inward.

I stumbled back. The three assassins entered, spreading out to surround me.

"Lady Seraphine sends her regards," one of them said, smiling.

"Tell her to go to hell."

"You first."

He lunged.

I swung the letter opener. It was like trying to fight a hurricane with a toothpick. He knocked it from my hand easily. Grabbed my throat. Lifted me off the ground.

I couldn't breathe.

Black spots danced across my vision.

Through the bond, I felt Kaelix's rage spike. Felt him trying to reach me. Too far away.

I was going to die.

No.

Magic exploded from my body.

Vines erupted from the floor, thick, black, thorned vines that shouldn't exist. They wrapped around the assassin's legs, his arms, his throat. He dropped me.

I gasped for air, stumbling back.

The vines kept growing. Kept tightening.

The thorns tore through his armor like paper.

He screamed.

I screamed too, horrified by what I was doing but unable to stop.

The other two assassins attacked. Fire magic. Light magic. Burning away the vines.

More vines grew. Faster. Angrier.

My magic was responding to my terror, my rage, my desperate need to survive.

One assassin went down, vines wrapping around him, crushing him.

The last one backed toward the door.

"What are you?" he gasped.

I didn't know.

Green light blazed from my hands. The vines shot forward…

A shadow blade pierced the assassin's chest from behind.

He dropped.

Kaelix stood behind him, covered in blood.

Not all of it his.

Our eyes met.

"You were supposed to stay in the room,"

he said quietly.

"They came for me anyway."

He looked at the bodies. At the vines still writhing across the floor. At me, glowing with Wild Court magic I couldn't control.

"You killed them," he said.

"I didn't mean to. I just…I couldn't stop…"

My legs gave out.

He caught me before I hit the ground.

Pulled me against his chest. His heart was racing as fast as mine.

"It's over," he murmured. "You're safe."

"Are you?" I pulled back to look at him.

Blood everywhere. A deep gash across his ribs. Burns on his shoulder. "You're hurt."

"I'm fine."

"Liar." I could feel his pain through the bond. Feel the curse eating at him. "Let me see."

"Elara…"

"Let me see!"

He sighed and let me push his torn shirt aside.

I gasped.

The curse mark on his chest had spread. Black veins covered his entire torso now, crawling up his throat. Pulsing with each heartbeat like poison.

"Oh gods," I whispered. "The fighting made it worse."

"Using magic accelerates it. I knew that."

"Then why…"

"Because you were in danger." He said it like it was obvious. "The curse doesn't matter if you're dead."

"If I die, you die. The bond, remember?"

"That's not why I protected you."

The words hung between us.

"Then why?" I asked softly.

He didn't answer. Just looked at me with those ancient silver eyes.

My hands moved to his chest without thinking. To the curse mark. To the black veins spreading like cracks in glass.

Heat flowed from my palms. Green light. Wild Court magic responding to my need to help him.

Kaelix inhaled sharply. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know. Just…don't move."

The magic poured out of me, drawn to his curse like light to shadow. Soothing. Healing. Not curing it, but easing the pain.

The black veins stopped pulsing quite so frantically.

Kaelix's eyes closed. His breathing slowed.

"How does that feel?" I whispered.

"Better. Much better." He caught my wrists gently. "But you need to stop. You're exhausted."

He was right. The magic had drained me. But I didn't want to stop touching him. His skin was warm beneath my hands. His heartbeat steady now.

When had I stopped seeing him as just my captor? When had he become... this?

"Elara." His voice was rough. "You should rest."

"So should you."

"I need to secure the palace. Make sure there aren't more…"

He swayed suddenly. I caught him this time.

"You're about to collapse," I said.

"I'm fine."

"Stop lying." I pulled his arm over my shoulders. "Come on. Bed. Now."

"Elara…"

"That's an order. Or have you forgotten I'm a princess?"

Despite everything, he almost smiled.

"Technically you haven't been officially recognized yet."

"Then consider this practice."

I half-dragged him back to his chambers. He was heavier than he looked, all muscle and height and stubborn pride.

He collapsed onto the bed with a groan.

I knelt beside him, checking his wounds. The gash across his ribs was deep but already healing slowly. Fae healing abilities.

"You saved my life," I said quietly.

"You saved mine first. With the healing magic."

"I don't even know how I did that."

"Instinct. Your magic responds to your emotions. You wanted to help me. So it did."

"Is that how all magic works?"

"Wild Court magic especially. It's primal. Emotional. Powerful." He looked at me.

"You killed three trained assassins without any training yourself. That's not normal, Elara. You're not normal."

"Thanks?"

"It's a compliment. You're extraordinary."

Heat flooded my face. I busied myself with cleaning the blood from his chest, trying to ignore how intimate this felt.

His skin was warm under my hands. Scars crisscrossed his body, centuries of battles. I traced one absently.

"Does it hurt?" I asked. "The curse?"

"Constantly."

"I'm sorry."

"Why? You didn't cause it."

"No, but I didn't break it either. The ritual failed because of me."

"The ritual failed because I stopped it. Because I couldn't..." He trailed off.

"Couldn't what?"

His eyes met mine. "Couldn't do that to you. Even knowing it would kill me."

My breath caught.

"Why?" I whispered.

"I don't know." He reached up, tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers lingered against my cheek. "I've been trying to figure that out for three days."

We were so close. His hand on my face. My hands on his chest. Both of us covered in blood and exhausted and alive against all odds.

"Kaelix…"

A knock at the door shattered the moment.

"My lord!" Lysander's voice. "Urgent message!"

Kaelix closed his eyes briefly. "Come in."

Lysander entered, took one look at us, and raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

He held out a scroll sealed in blood.

Kaelix took it. Read it. His expression went cold.

"What is it?" I asked.

He handed it to me.

The words were written in elegant script, the ink dark red. Blood.

"Return the Wild Court heir within three days or I will declare war on your court and every court that harbors her. She is mine by right of prophecy. Surrender her willingly or I will take her by force. - Lady Seraphine"

I looked up at Kaelix. "What prophecy?"

"I have no idea." He crumpled the message. "But it doesn't matter. She's not getting you."

"She's threatening war."

"Then we'll have war."

"You're dying. The curse…"

"I don't care!" The words came out fierce. He grabbed my shoulders. "Listen to me. I don't care about the curse. I don't care about the war. I care about keeping you alive. Do you understand?"

I stared at him. At the intensity in his eyes.

"Why?" I whispered again.

He opened his mouth. Closed it. Looked away.

"Get some rest," he said finally. "Both of you. Dawn is coming and we have much to discuss."

Lysander bowed and left.

Kaelix started to rise.

"Where are you going?" I asked.

"To organize defenses. If Seraphine is declaring war…"

"You need rest more than I do."

"Elara…"

"Lie down. Now." I pushed him back onto the bed. "I'll organize defenses. Tell me who to summon."

"You don't know…"

"Then teach me. But you're not getting up until you've slept at least a few hours."

We stared at each other. A battle of wills.

Finally, he sighed. "You're stubborn."

"So are you. We'll make a great team."

Something flickered in his eyes.

Something warm.

"Yes," he said softly. "We will."

I pulled the blanket over him. Started to move away.

His hand caught mine.

"Stay," he said. "Please."

"The bond won't let me go far anyway."

"That's not why I'm asking."

My heart did something complicated in my chest.

"Okay," I whispered.

I lay down beside him. Not touching, but close. Close enough to feel his warmth. To hear his breathing slow.

Through the bond, I felt his exhaustion. His pain. His determination to protect me.

And underneath it all, something else. Something he wouldn't say out loud.

He cared.

The monster who bought me to kill me had somehow started caring whether I lived or died.

And gods help me, I was starting to care about him too.

"Elara?" he murmured, half-asleep.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. For healing me."

"Thank you for saving my life."

"Always," he whispered.

Then sleep claimed him.

I lay there in the darkness, listening to him breathe, feeling the bond pulse between us.

Three days until Seraphine's deadline.

Three days to figure out how to survive a war.

Three days to understand why the monster was starting to feel like something else entirely.

Outside, dawn was breaking.

The war was coming.

And I had no idea if we'd survive it.