Vladimir’s gaze never left mine. Those icy blue eyes tracked my every movement, unreadable and intense. My corset tightened.
When I finally reached the black matte marble stairs leading up to the altar, my hip throbbed with each step. But the pain felt distant, unimportant compared to the enormity of what I was about to do.
Three steps. Four. Five.
And then I was standing before him, close enough to see the fine details of his face—the way frost seemed to cling to the edges of his suit collar, the barely perceptible rise and fall of his chest.
Vladimir Dragunov. My husband-to-be.
He extended his hand toward me, palm up, waiting.
Then it began. The cloaked figure I had noticed before stepped forward with a velvet pillow.
On it lay a strange, ornate dagger—not made from steel or any metal, but from the claw of a creature I could not name. The hilt was silver, catching the light as Vladimir picked it up.
My breath hitched when he brought the sharpened tip to his palm and tore it open.
Blood dripped from his wound as he offered the same blade to me.
My hands shook, but I accepted it and did the same. I sank my teeth into my lip as I ripped the skin of my palm, blood spilling from the cut.
"Intertwine your fingers," the hooded figure said.
I shifted my mother’s urn to the crook of my elbow, cradling it carefully, before reaching out with my bleeding palm. Vladimir’s cold hand met mine, our fingers threading together. Our blood mixed where our wounds touched, warm and cold becoming one.
The sensation was immediate and overwhelming—a pull deep in my chest, like something ancient stirring awake.
"Speak your vows as they come," the figure intoned. "Your wolves will guide the words."
Vladimir’s grip tightened on mine, his glacier eyes holding me captive. When he spoke, his voice was low, primal, carrying a weight that made the air itself feel heavy.
"I vow to protect you from all who would do you harm." A thread of red light materialized from our joined hands, glowing like molten blood. It began to coil slowly around his wrist. "I will be your shield when you cannot stand. Your blade when you cannot fight." The light pulsed with each word, winding tighter. "I will provide for you, shelter you, stand between you and death itself."
His face remained impassive, but his eyes—they burned with something fierce and possessive.
"You are mine to guard. This I swear with blood and bone."
The red tendril completed its coil around his wrist, solidifying into a glowing band.
Then the pull turned to me. I felt Kaia rising within, felt words bubbling up from somewhere deeper than conscious thought. My lips parted, and the vow spilled out before I could stop it—Kaia’s words in my mouth.
"I vow to stand beside you in the darkness." My voice trembled but grew stronger as another red thread emerged, this one coiling around my wrist. "I will not run when others flee. I will see you, truly see you, even when you hide." The light pulsed in rhythm with my heartbeat. "I will be your witness, your truth when lies surround you."
The words came faster now, instinctive and raw.
"I will offer you trust even when it terrifies me. This I swear with blood and bone."
The red band completed around my wrist, glowing in tandem with Vladimir’s.
For a heartbeat, nothing happened. Then both threads of light extended forward like living things, reaching across the space between us. They found each other in the air, intertwining, weaving together into a single cord that bound us.
The sensation was overwhelming—I could feel him. Not just his hand in mine, but something deeper. It terrified and exhilarated me.
The cloaked figure raised both hands, his voice resonating through the hall. "Before this bond is blessed and sealed eternal, I ask—does any here oppose this union? Speak now, or be bound by your silence."
The silence stretched taut as a bowstring.
Then the doors exploded open with a deafening crack.
Everyone froze. I turned, my blood still mingling with Vladimir’s, to see a figure silhouetted in the doorway.
Red hair cascaded like flames down her back. Amethyst eyes blazed with fury. She wore a shimmering midnight-blue dress, nearly transparent, revealing every curve of her body as she strode forward with predatory grace.
"I oppose," her voice rang out, clear and sharp as broken glass.
Gasps rippled through the sparse crowd. Vladimir’s hand went rigid in mine, his eyes darkening to something feral and dangerous.
"This is highly irregular—" the cloaked figure began.
"I don’t give a fuck about regular," Veronique snarled, her amethyst eyes fixed on me with pure venom. "That creature has no right to stand beside my Alpha."
Kustav’s voice cut through the tension, dripping with mockery. "How fascinating. Vladimir, your own Beta opposes you. Tell me, how does it feel to have your second-in-command reject your choice of mate?"
I could feel Vladimir’s rage through our joined hands—cold, lethal, barely contained.
"Veronique," he growled, his voice dropping to something inhuman. "Stand down."
"No." She stopped at the base of the altar stairs, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "I invoke the right of any wolf to challenge an unworthy Luna. I am high-born, strong, and have bled for this pack. I should stand beside you, Vladimir. Not this fragile half-human."
The hall erupted in whispers.
"A Luna Duel?" someone breathed.
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"SILENCE!" Vladimir’s command cracked like thunder, but Veronique flinched only a little.
"You can’t stop me. The old laws are clear, Alpha," she said, her voice hard. "Any wolf of rank may challenge an unworthy Luna before the bond is blessed. Even you are not given the right to intervene. I challenge Lilith Brooks to a Duel. If she survives, she may have you. If she falls..." Veronique’s smile widened, fangs glinting as my legs turned to jelly. "Well. Then the moon will have decided."
The red thread binding our wrists flickered—
Like a taut rope cut clean through, the glowing bond between us severed with an audible crack. The light died instantly, the connection breaking so abruptly I gasped, feeling suddenly, impossibly alone.
Vladimir’s hand tightened on mine as if he could hold the bond together through sheer will, but it was gone. The rings on our fingers dimmed to ordinary silver.
The cloaked figure’s voice was grave. "The challenge has been issued. The bond remains incomplete until it is answered." He turned to me, his shadowed face somehow conveying pity. "Lilith Brooks. Do you accept Veronique’s challenge, or do you yield your claim to the Alpha?"
And relinquish yourself to your father. That was the part he did not say aloud.