Love was never sacred.
It was a leash.
I sat in the dirt, staring at the last line of that encrypted file like it had cut me open and was still twisting the blade.
*If the hybrid survives, the bond collapses.*
Cassian was pacing. The fire had burned low, casting fractured shadows across his face, but I didn’t need light to read the tension in his movements. Every step was too sharp. Too quiet. Like he didn’t trust the ground anymore.
Maybe he didn’t.
Maybe he didn’t trust *me.*
I didn’t trust myself.
“Say it again,” I whispered.
He stopped. “Selene…”
“Say it.”
He looked at me then. Really looked.
And said, “The mate bond isn’t fate. It’s fabrication.”
I let out a breath. Not relief. Not grief.
Something worse.
Validation.
“I *felt* it,” I said. “That moment when Ronan marke
