True Bonds Can Not Lie
802 Words
His eyes darkened, wolf and man answering as one.
“Yes, you are my true and fated mate, Talia. In every way that matters.”
“And your wolf?”
Lucian’s voice deepened, the shift audible.
Lucian’s eyes changed to a molten silver, very much like that of Moonfire from his hands. His wolf was present; it was no longer just Lucian speaking. Savage had stepped into the chat. “I have never stopped pacing since that first night in the woods Talia.” She shivered at Savage’s power and presence. “I would have dragged you out of the trees and into our bed if our human had let me.”
Talia laughed, shaky. “You would have marked me in the middle of a battle?”
“Yes. You were magnificent,” Savage said. “I have never wanted anything more than I wanted to keep you alive.”
Moonfire still burned behind his eyes, bright as a promise.
But Lucian took the reins back, the iron closing over heat.
“Tomorrow,” he murmured, “we won’t hide it anymore. Not from the Council. Not from anyone.”
He kissed her once—deep, careful. When he drew back, he did it because he was cautious, not unwilling.
“Tell me to stop,” he murmured.
“No. But if you keep being noble, I might bite you.”
His laugh was low, sensual. “Later. When you don’t smell like sutures.”
He slid her beneath the covers, his shirt over the thin gown. He didn’t like that she had gone cold. He wrapped her arm again, set vials within reach, and sat on the chair. When she caught his wrist, he lay on top of the blanket beside her, hand over her ribs. Heat eased it without thought.
“Tomorrow,” he said, “we will finish properly. Elder Neris and Judge Howell will come to my study at ten. No crowd. You’ll accept the pledge. Under Luna until the Final Trial. No one calls you rogue. No one calls you temporary.”
“You’re sure they’ll agree?”
“I’m not asking. I’ll make it look like I did.”
She smiled into his sleeve.
“Strategic. I like this version.”
“It’s the only one you get. And it’s yours.”
“The net,” she murmured.
“Sabotage,” he said. “Contained. Casius is pulling names. The ribbon carried a hex. It won’t be in our arena again.”
“Good. I promised I’d win clean.”
“You did. Everyone saw who cheated.”
“Did they see me headbutt Mira?”
He tried not to smile. Failed. “Unforgettable.”
“I regret nothing.”
“You shouldn’t.”
Quietly settled. Safe enough to breathe.
He brushed her hairline with his lips. “Your aunt will be at the study. Elias left you something.”
Talia’s throat tightened. “Okay.”
“And Alina will sit in. For safety. And because Casius will sit behind her, three chairs away.”
“You’re cruel,” she murmured.
“I’m kind. If he sits closer, I’ll have to knock him out. Paperwork.”
She laughed into the pillow. Kaela flopped down inside her head like a wolf fed and forgiven. The bond glowed once beneath his palm.
“Talia,” he said just before sleep took her.
“Hm?”
“Be stubborn about the words tomorrow. Make them say what you mean. I’ll sign where you point.”
“Good,” she mumbled. “I like making you sign things.”
“I’ve noticed.”
A soft knock. Casius’s rhythm.
Lucian didn’t move his hand from her ribs.
“Enter.”
Casius stepped in, eyes taking in stitches, breath steadying when he saw her safe.
“Healer gone?”
“Draughts left. Stitches hold.”
“Names at dawn. Study locked at ten.”
Lucian’s jaw set. “We’ll be ready.”
Casius nodded—respect, caution, promise. He closed the door.
The room exhaled.
Outside, the pack kept watch.
Inside, two wolves slept.
And on the roof above them, unseen and silent, Mira watched the window.
Smiling.
“We shall see about that,” she whispered, slipping back into the shadows before her absence was noticed.
In her room, she bolted the door and reached under her bed for a small iron box. Cold metal. Older than the crown. Older than the packs.
Her fingers trembled with anticipation as she turned the key.
Inside, wrapped in black silk, lay a silver crest pierced clean through the center—Elias’s stolen symbol, smeared with old blood.
Mira smiled wider.
“I’ve got more surprises for you, my pretty little couple,” she purred.
On the silver, the blood began to warm.
- Writer
