LOGINMurdered by one of her fated mate’s women after he betrayed her, Lorelai wakes forty days before the marking ceremony and rejects Caelan before he can bind her again. To escape him—and prevent the massacre she remembers—she marries Karl Ashborne, Caelan’s much older, supposedly wolfless uncle, the man destined to be assassinated. But Karl hides the most powerful wolf of his generation, Lorelai carries the last royal witch blood, and an obsessive vampire prince is already preparing to claim her as his bride. In her first life, Lorelai gave Caelan everything: her loyalty, her body, and the mark that made their bond impossible to escape. He rewarded her by surrounding himself with other women—and one of them poisoned Lorelai, drove silver into her ribs, and left her to die. Now Lorelai has one chance to change the future. Her marriage to Karl is meant to be nothing more than a bargain: separate rooms, separate property, no sex, no mark, and the freedom to leave whenever she chooses. Karl offers her something Caelan never did—the right to decide what happens to her own life. But the man everyone calls weak is anything but harmless. Karl’s control hides a dangerous power, and every step Lorelai takes to prevent his murder draws her deeper into his world—and closer to the husband she never intended to desire. Meanwhile, Caelan refuses to accept that his rejected mate has chosen another man. The women responsible for Lorelai’s death begin gathering again. And Valerian Noctis, a beautiful and ruthless vampire prince, invokes an ancient blood right to seize Lorelai’s body, crown, and future. Saving Karl may stop Greyhaven from burning. Loving him may awaken a prophecy capable of restoring the witch dynasty the wolves destroyed—and plunging every kingdom into war.
View MoreBlood made the stone slick beneath Lorelai’s palms.
She dragged herself toward the open door anyway.
Ten feet. That was all.
Her arms gave out before she made two.
The silver blade below her ribs hurt, but the poison in the wine had already stolen her strength. Bitter metal coated her tongue. Blood warmed her fingers.
Behind her, silk whispered.
“You were always too trusting,” Aria said.
Lorelai knew that voice. She also knew who Aria had stood beside for years, smiling while Caelan dismissed every doubt Lorelai voiced.
Lorelai had loved him before the mark. Trusted him enough to go willingly to his rooms. Trusted the bond enough to believe betrayal had become impossible.
Now Caelan’s mark pulsed faintly on her neck while she died alone.
Karl Ashborne had died three nights earlier. Caelan’s wolfless uncle. The man everyone dismissed, though Greyhaven followed him.
After Karl died, Greyhaven burned.
Caelan kept the gates closed.
Then Aria came for Lorelai.
Forty days.
That was how much time she had once had before she gave Caelan everything the bond had not already taken.
If she had those days again—
“You should have accepted what you were,” Aria murmured behind her. “A placeholder.”
Lorelai closed her eyes.
Not again.
Air slammed into her lungs.
She surged upright.
No blood. No stone floor. No blade.
Morning light cut across pale bed curtains. A fire snapped in the hearth. Lorelai clutched her side and found smooth linen over unbroken skin.
Then she touched her neck.
Nothing.
No scar.
No mate mark.
Her wolf crashed awake inside her, frantic, reaching for a bond that was still bright and unfinished.
Caelan.
Lorelai stumbled from the bed and seized the calendar card beside the lamp.
The bond had awakened two days ago.
The private ceremony was in forty days.
Before sex. Before acceptance. Before his teeth closed over her neck and made the choice almost impossible to undo.
A knock struck the door.
“Lorelai?” a maid called. “The Alpha asked for you at breakfast.”
Karl was alive.
Greyhaven still stood.
Aria had not yet become untouchable.
Lorelai dressed. Her hands shook once, when she fastened the collar over the place where the mark had been.
By the time she entered Garrick Ashborne’s private council room, the terror had narrowed into a decision.
Caelan stood near the long table.
Handsome. Young. Alive.
For one brutal second, memory split him in two: the man she had once chosen, and the man who would watch Greyhaven burn because saving it was inconvenient.
The mate bond pulled.
Her wolf answered with a wounded sound.
“Where were you?” Caelan stepped toward her. “I sent for you twice.”
Lorelai stopped beyond his reach.
Garrick watched from the head of the table. “You asked to speak before the household gathered.”
“Yes.”
Caelan frowned. “About what?”
No explanation would give him the years she remembered.
She did not need one.
“I, Lorelai Jones, reject you, Caelan Ashborne, as my mate.”
Pain ripped through her chest.
Lorelai caught the edge of the table while her wolf howled for the future she had just refused. Across from her, Caelan staggered.
“What did you say?”
She forced herself upright. “I reject the mate bond.”
His face had gone white. “Why?”
Karl dead.
Greyhaven burning.
Closed gates.
Aria at his side while Lorelai bled out on a stone floor.
“I do not choose it.”
Caelan crossed the space between them. “You’re in pain. You don’t know what you’re saying.”
He reached for her.
Lorelai stepped back.
His hand stopped in the empty space between them.
Garrick rose. “A rejection cannot be spoken lightly.”
“It was not.”
“You understand what this costs you? Your position here. Protection. The future promised to you as Caelan’s mate.”
“Yes.”
Caelan looked at his father. “She’s frightened. Give her time.”
“I have had enough time.”
The words came more quietly than Lorelai expected.
Garrick studied her.
“Then what do you intend to do?”
“Send me to Greyhaven.”
Caelan gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “The rogue settlement?”
“I can work. I can keep records, manage stores, negotiate supplies. I won’t be a burden.”
“You think Karl will take you?”
Karl.
Alive now, but not safe. Not if the future was allowed to repeat itself.
“I’m asking to go to Greyhaven.”
Garrick came around the table slowly. “The pack will not recognize you there. Our law will not protect you. You will lose the position you were raised to hold.”
“I understand.”
Not all of it.
But she understood the graves waiting if she did nothing.
Garrick’s expression hardened. “Your mother died saving my life. I promised she would never leave a daughter unprotected.”
Lorelai swallowed.
“Then let me choose the protection.”
Silence held for a beat.
“You have.”
Garrick returned to his chair.
“I will permit you to leave and reside in Greyhaven.”
Caelan turned sharply. “Father—”
“On one condition.”
Lorelai looked at Garrick.
His gaze did not shift.
“You will marry my brother Karl.”
The divided-crown mark led Lorelai below the diplomatic wing.It appeared once beneath a stair rail, again beside a door used to move coal and lamp oil through Vespera without crossing the public halls. Two neutral guards waited at the final turn. Their pale-bound scabbards carried the seal of diplomatic immunity.One checked Lorelai’s written access order.The other opened the service door.Karl stood inside.For a moment, Lorelai forgot the maps under her arm, the wound tightening beneath her clothes, and the guards who would record how long she remained.She crossed the room.Then Lorelai put both arms around him.His body closed around hers without touching the injury at her side. One hand settled between her shoulders. The other stopped above her waist, waiting even while she pressed her face against his chest and breathed him in.Wood. Cold air. Greyhaven.Home had become a scent carried inside hostile
Caelan arrived in the map room carrying evidence without a petition attached.That alone made Lorelai look at him twice.Two neutral guards entered behind him. Eve sat near the far wall beneath a Veyr blanket, one wrist newly bandaged and both feet planted on the floor as if she no longer trusted beds. A fae observer waited beside the magistrate’s clerk.Caelan placed a rolled map before Lorelai.“The route my men gave Eve,” he said. “The names of both riders. The relay points. The order authorizing the escort.”“Who prepared the map?”“I did.”“From memory?”“From the surviving rider’s statement and the original field copy.”“Where is the original?”Caelan set a leather folder beside the roll.“Inside. Sealed after the rider testified.”Lorelai looked at the wax. Ashborne, marked with the time
Eve’s first piece of evidence had been hidden beneath her bandage.Lorelai found the folded paper only after she dismissed the Noctis healer and brought in her own medical supplies under two Veyr seals.“Do not cut the cloth,” Eve said.Her voice remained weak, but urgency sharpened it.Lorelai stopped the scissors above the stained wrapping around Eve’s forearm.“Where?”“Inner side. Near the wrist.”The bandage had been wound badly, too tight over bruised skin and too loose near the elbow. Whoever had treated Eve had cared more about keeping her quiet than healing her.Lorelai loosened the outer layers by hand.The paper appeared against Eve’s skin, protected inside a narrow strip of oilcloth. Sweat and medicine had dampened the edges, but the writing within remained untouched.Lorelai set it on the bedside table without opening it.“Witnesses fi
The courier was still bleeding when the infirmary registrar denied knowing him.Lorelai stood beside the narrow cot while a healer pressed folded cloth against the wound beneath his ribs. The man’s breathing had steadied enough to prove he was alive, but not enough for questions.The strip of torn lining rested in Lorelai’s palm.Eve’s sign.“He came from this wing,” Lorelai said.The registrar kept both hands on the admission ledger. “He was brought through the public corridor.”“He knew the path to the reserved infirmary.”“Couriers know many passages.”“Then show me his entry.”The registrar’s fingers tightened over the page.“Search the admissions made after Whitecliff,” she said.“No patient from Whitecliff is registered here.”“That was not my request.”“Bring my
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