"Honesty." His voice rolled low, velvet laced with something sharper. A smirk tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth. "A bold demand."
"I can do a blood bargain with you, if I must," I said with all the grit I could muster.
Blood bargains were rare, desperate measures among wolf shifters. They bound two souls together with a vow that couldn’t be broken. Not without death clawing for the one who failed. To even suggest it meant I was willing to put my life against his word.
His eyes narrowed, the faint gleam of crimson deepening.
Then, to my surprise, a soft laugh stirred from his lips, dangerous in its quietness.
"So interesting," he said, more to himself than to me. "How bold you’ve become, when not so long ago you were resigned to your fate."
Heat pricked at my skin, though the air was cold.
Because he was right.
Half a month ago, I hadn’t had this fire. I remembered all too vividly the day that letter arrived—the one naming me Finn’s chosen breeder. My stomach had dropped, and in that moment the world had ended.
I’d been numb, drowning in a grief so heavy I couldn’t breathe. The walls of Finn’s manor pressed in around me like a tomb, and I didn’t even have the will to scratch my way out.
I hadn’t wanted to fight.
But then... I’d seen what an asshole Finn truly was. The maid he used and discarded, her sudden disappearance no mystery to anyone with eyes. Stella... sweet Stella died because she stood too close to me, because Finn decided she was guilty when he knew damn well she wasn’t. He killed her knowing she was innocent. He killed her because he could.
I realized it was too much for me to stomach.
That memory coiled tight in my chest, a sharp and merciless reminder of why there could be no going back.
"Your honesty and protection," I said steadily, forcing those memories to fuel me instead of break me. "In exchange for my cooperation."
His expression stilled. He tilted his head slightly, studying me as though I were an unfamiliar creature.
Shadows stirred faintly behind him, restless, like they too were considering my proposal.
"Hmm..." he murmured, thoughtful.
I clenched my hands at my sides. "I know you made up that story about your mother," I said, my voice cutting through the pause. "You don’t need a mate. Such sentiments must be too shallow to be your motivation."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Then his gaze darkened, and I swore I saw the shadows bleed into his eyes. Crimson and smoke swirled together, giving his stare an otherworldly depth that sent a chill down my spine.
"Shallow," he echoed, his tone soft yet dangerous, like a predator testing the air. His eyes locked onto mine like he wanted to knock the air out of my lungs. "Do you truly think so little of me? That I am incapable of such sentiment?"
I didn’t answer him.
But I didn’t need to. My silence, the stiffness in my shoulders, the flicker of disdain I hadn’t hidden well enough—it was all written plainly across my face.
And he knew it.
How could he not, when he knew I had only ever known him through whispers and fear?
To the outside world, Rion Morrigan was the shadow that consumed all light. Stories of his cruelty traveled faster than the wind itself. A man who burned lands to ash, who tricked leaders into ruin, who slaughtered wolves with a savagery so brutal it bled into myth.
And in the short time I had known him, I’d seen enough to confirm that much wasn’t exaggerated. He got me out of Finn’s chains through burning lands and people.
So how could I not judge him?
"Sorry if you found that offending," I said finally, though even to my own ears the words rang hollow. I didn’t sound sorry at all.
"Oh, no," he said smoothly. "I wasn’t offended. Not at all."
That made something cold prickle down my spine. Offended would have been safer. At least offense was human. This calm, unbothered mask of his, it was far more dangerous.
"So," I pressed, calming my voice even as my pulse tripped in my throat. "Will you tell me the truth?"
The playful curve of his lips faded like smoke dissolving into the air.
The shift in him was evident. My breath caught, instinct screaming through me in waves. It was like the moment when predator eyes lock, and the prey’s body knows before the mind does that escape is impossible.
Goosebumps swept over my skin. My wolf pressed against me from within, claws itching, her instinct to defend coiled tight, yet restrained.
"Since you are desperate enough to offer a blood bargain with me..." His voice was low, sweetly lethal "...I dare not disappoint you."
I swallowed hard. "Then tell me."
"Yes," he said finally. "I made up the story. I never had a mother."
Something twisted in my chest at his admission. I didn’t know why.
He let the silence linger, watching me carefully, as if measuring how his words struck me.
Then his gaze slid down, slow, tracing me in a way that made my pulse quicken against my will. His eyes roamed from head to toe before lifting to lock with mine again.
"I don’t want a mate either." His tone was sharper now, colder, but a flicker of something softer curved his mouth for the briefest moment. "Not that you look any less beautiful to be considered."
Heat burned across my cheeks before I could stop it. Damn him. I clenched my jaw, refusing to look away.
If I broke eye contact, I would lose ground, and I couldn’t afford to give him that satisfaction.
"You think flattery will make this easier?" I bit out.
A low chuckle rolled from him, dark and quiet.
"No. But it amuses me to see you struggle not to flinch."
"I’m not flinching."
"Mm." His eyes glinted, amused.
I glared, but said nothing.
He let the silence stretch until I wanted to snap, then leaned closer just enough for the shadows at his back to stir, restless like living smoke.
"I’ve been looking," he said, his voice dropping lower, heavier, "for a way to awaken the Celestial Wolf."
The name sent a jolt through me, cold and hot all at once. My brows knitted.
The Celestial Wolf...?
"And it seems," he continued, gaze fixed on me with consuming intent, "you are one of the keys."