I pressed my hands to his chest, right over the spot where my scent still clung from our last disaster of a night. “Fine. I’ll do it. I’ll take the real bond. I’ll give up space, freedom, even my heart—I’ll be your mate in every way, risk you breaking me, risk Lysandra’s memory turning us both to ghosts.”
Then I leaned in, just for him. “But only if you swear—right now, with Rhys as witness—to back my revenge. All the way. Not just beating the Archon, but crushing Damon’s pack. No more politics, no more stalling. We burn Damon down, rip out every secret, and ruin him so hard he wishes he’d never heard my name. That’s my price. That’s what you have to pay for my soul.”
This wasn’t some romantic, teary-eyed moment. It was cold. It was business. I was turning the bond into a weapon—and I me
