His Eternal Bond Was Never Mine

Right before our blood-oath ceremony, my mate, Darius, said he needed to forge a blood bond with another woman. Livia—the woman who had supposedly saved his life.

“I have to forge a temporary, life-sharing bond with Livia. She’s dying, Isolde. Her life source is failing.”

Darius’s gaze was heavy.

My hands stilled over the Eternal Blood.

The potion was for our ceremony. It was meant to ensure the soul-link between fated mates would never fray.

And now, he was asking me to accept him bonding with someone else.

My fingertips began to tremble.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“This isn't a request, Isolde.” His voice, laced with the authority of a Prince, echoed in the vast alchemy lab. “It’s already done, Isolde. I forged the bond this morning. In the forgotten sanctuary.”

“In the sanctuary…” My hand shook so violently the potion vial slipped and shattered on the stone floor. “That’s the place for our Eternal Vow!”

“I owe her my life.”

“I don’t care what you owe her!” My voice cracked like a whip. “A blood bond is sacred, Darius! It was supposed to be for us—”

“One year,” he cut me off, his bloodshot eyes wide with disbelief. “A life is on the line,” he snarled. “How can you not understand?”

“I promise, I’ll break it when the term is up. She’ll live, and you will still be my one and only eternal mate.”

I glared at him, my jaw tight. “I don’t agree. Not unless you want to tear our twin soul bond apart.”

Darius’s eyes finally turned to ice. “This isn’t a request, Isolde. A life is on the line. Don’t make me use my princely command.”

He promised, “It’s just a temporary bond. It won’t affect our link. In a year, everything will be back to normal.”

Then he turned in a flash of anger, his body dissolving into a blur of shadow at the door and vanishing down the hall.

A second later, the door slammed shut behind him, moved by an unseen force.

The oppressive weight of his princely fury lingered long after he was gone.

The next day, I stood at the entrance of the Coven’s castle. A black, stretch limousine glided silently to the curb.

My blood ran cold.

Darius got out of the passenger side and gently helped a woman so delicate, so fragile, from the car.

Livia.

She was so pale, it looked like a stiff night breeze could blow her away.

Darius’s arm was wrapped around her waist. The possessive way he held her froze the blood in my veins.

“Careful on the steps,” he said, his voice so gentle it made me want to scream.

It was a tone he had never once used with me.

I watched them walk into the building and step into the antique elevator reserved only for the Prince.

It went straight to the top floor.

To the Prince’s Chambers, the suite reserved only for the future Prince’s mate.

My suite.

Three hours later, Darius returned to our chambers.

I was waiting on the sofa, clutching a glass of long-cold wine.

“Is she settled?” My voice was terrifyingly calm.

Darius took off his jacket. “The blood-healer said she needs absolute quiet.”

“So you put her on the top floor.”

“It has the best defensive wards,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “It’s just temporary.”

I stood and walked slowly toward him.

“Darius, where were you last night?”

He stiffened for a second. “Dealing with the Hunter conflict. I told you.”

“All night?”

“It was more complicated than I expected.”

I moved closer, close enough to smell another woman on him—not on his clothes, but woven into his very soul.

The mixed soul-resonance was like a poison-tipped silver needle, stabbing straight through our soul-link.

A sharp, tearing pain shot through my soul, and I nearly buckled.

It wasn’t just Livia’s scent. It was deeper, more entwined.

It was the kind of soul-deep resonance that only came from an Eternal Bond.

He had lied.

He wasn’t dealing with a conflict last night.

He was completing the damned bond with her.

And now, he was trying to ask my permission for something he’d already done.

“Do you even still need my permission?” I stepped back, fighting the burn in my eyes.

“You have to understand, Isolde. A life is at stake.” Darius moved toward me, reaching for my hand.

“You’re my fated mate,” he insisted, as if that explained everything. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

I snatched my hand back. “I need more time.”

“There is no time. She won’t last much longer.”

Just then, the private elevator to the penthouse suite opened.

Livia stepped out, draped in one of my white silk robes.

Her cheeks held a sickly flush, but her eyes were unnervingly bright.

She walked straight to Darius, draping herself against his chest like a vine.

“Thank you, Darius,” she said, her voice weak but sweet, her eyes locked on me. “I feel so much stronger now.”