3. The Bond Commands

“Why are you supposed to be dead?”

The question left my mouth before anyone else could speak.

The stranger’s smile deepened.

Not because he found it funny.

Because apparently I’d asked exactly the question he wanted.

One of the elders stepped forward.

“You will not speak to him.”

I turned toward him.

“You were all perfectly comfortable discussing whether I should be allowed to live five minutes ago, but this is where you draw the line?”

Darian made a sound suspiciously close to a laugh.

Kael didn’t.

His attention had gone completely still.

Not on me.

On the stranger.

Like something about him had finally clicked into place.

The man in the corner pushed away from the wall.

Every elder tensed.

He moved slowly, almost lazily, as though he were the only person in the room who didn’t find himself threatening.

“I was exiled,” he said.

His violet-gray eyes stayed on mine.

“Years ago.”

“For what?”

“Riven.”

The warning came from one of the elders.

I frowned.

Riven.

The stranger’s gaze flicked toward him.

“So you do remember my name.”

The elder’s mouth tightened.

Something cold crawled down my spine.

Kael stepped forward.

His eyes narrowed.

“Riven Ashvale.”

The stranger’s expression changed.

Only slightly.

But the amusement vanished.

Kael stared at him.

“You’re the Veilborn heir.”

My pulse stumbled.

Veilborn.

My clan.

Then Kael said the words that made my stomach drop.

“The Butcher of Hollow Ridge.”

Everything inside me went still.

Hollow Ridge.

I remembered that name.

Not from dusty histories or lessons in the archives.

From whispers.

From adults lowering their voices when they thought children weren’t listening.

From the weeks after it happened, when everyone in Veilborn seemed tense and angry and afraid.

I had been young, but I remembered the funerals.

Warriors.

Elders.

Two Alphas.

I remembered my mother pulling me closer whenever Hollow Ridge was mentioned.

And I remembered the name everyone blamed.

Riven Ashvale.

I looked at the man standing across from me.

At my third mate.

“No.”

The word escaped before I could stop it.

Riven’s eyes returned to mine.

Something flickered across his face.

Not anger.

Something quieter.

Gone almost immediately.

“You remember it,” he said.

“A little.”

“That’s probably enough.”

One of the elders stepped forward.

“He broke sacred law. He was exiled for a reason.”

Riven’s jaw tightened.

But he didn’t answer.

That bothered me almost as much as if he had.

“You should never have been capable of forming a mate bond,” the elder continued.

Riven’s mouth curved into a humorless smile.

“So exile can overrule the Moon Goddess now?”

No one answered.

His gaze moved slowly across the room.

Then back to me.

“But let’s not repeat the past, shall we?”

The room changed.

Not much.

A glance between two elders.

A tightening of the High Priestess’s mouth.

Kael noticed it too.

So did I.

I frowned.

“What does that mean?”

Riven’s expression closed.

“Nothing you need to worry about tonight.”

One of the elders stepped forward.

“Enough.”

Riven’s mouth curved faintly.

“There it is.”

I frowned.

“There what is?”

“Fear.”

The elder’s face hardened.

Before I could ask anything else, Kael moved.

He only moved forward two steps, but the shift in the room was immediate.

Riven’s smile vanished.

Kael’s claws extended.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Riven turned toward him.

“And yet here I am.”

“You crossed into sacred territory after exile.”

Riven gave a small shrug.

“I was invited.”

Kael’s gaze flicked toward me.

The bond between us flared.

Anger.

Resistance.

And something underneath it I couldn’t name.

Then he looked back at Riven.

“You should never have come back.”

Riven’s expression hardened.

“Maybe.”

Kael stepped closer.

“But that can still be corrected.”

Darian shifted beside me.

His shoulder brushed mine.

Warm.

Steady.

Protective.

Not another fight.

Surely we weren’t doing this again.

“Kael.”

He ignored me.

Riven didn’t move.

If anything, he looked almost bored.

“Still solving every problem with your claws, Veyron?”

Kael’s eyes flashed.

“Still pretending nothing matters, Ashvale?”

Something passed between them.

Old hostility.

Maybe older than tonight.

Maybe not.

I couldn’t tell.

“Kael,” I said again.

Nothing.

Riven’s voice lowered.

“You really don’t know when to stop.”

Kael attacked.

“Oh, for the love of—”

I barely had time to react.

Kael crossed the room in a blur.

Riven met him halfway.

Claws collided.

The impact shook the floor beneath my feet.

This wasn’t what had happened with Darian.

That had been anger.

Pride.

Two males losing their tempers.

This was different.

Kael wanted Riven gone.

And Riven knew it.

The mate bonds tightened around my chest.

All three.

Kael’s burned through me.

Fury.

Pain.

Something that felt almost like betrayal.

Darian’s tightened with fear.

For me.

And Riven’s—

Steady.

Unyielding.

A strange certainty pulsed through the bond.

As though none of this surprised him.

Kael drove him backward.

Riven twisted away and caught Kael across the ribs.

Kael barely reacted.

He struck again.

Harder.

“Stop!”

Neither listened.

Of course they didn’t.

Apparently becoming someone’s mate came with the privilege of being completely ignored.

Kael’s claws flashed.

Riven dodged.

Too slow.

Blood darkened Riven’s shirt.

Something inside me snapped.

The bonds pulled.

One.

Two.

Three.

Too tight.

I grabbed my chest.

I couldn’t breathe.

My wolf surged beneath my skin.

Not waking this time.

Rising.

Protect them.

Her voice thundered through me.

I froze.

Them?

Kael lunged again.

Riven raised his claws.

No.

I moved before I could think.

Straight between them.

“Lyra!”

Someone screamed my name.

I slammed one palm against Kael’s chest.

The other against Riven’s.

“STOP!”

The word tore out of me.

Except—

It wasn’t my voice.

Not entirely.

Something deeper spoke with me.

Older.

Power exploded through the room.

Kael froze beneath my hand.

Riven did too.

Neither could move.

The force of it rippled outward.

Candles guttered.

The fire in the hearth bent toward me.

Every window rattled.

Then came the pain.

White-hot.

Sharp.

I gasped and jerked my hands away.

Silver light raced beneath my skin.

“What—”

It spread from my palms.

Up my wrists.

Across my forearms.

Ancient symbols burned into existence beneath my skin like living moonlight.

The room went silent.

Not quiet.

Silent.

Darian stared at me.

His face had gone completely slack.

“Did she just…”

“No.”

Kael’s voice was barely audible.

I looked at him.

For the first time since I’d met him, the Alpha of Ironfang looked shaken.

Not angry.

Not controlled.

Afraid.

“That’s impossible,” he whispered.

Riven wasn’t looking at the markings.

He was looking at me.

And the expression on his face frightened me more than Kael’s did.

Recognition.

Relief.

And something dangerously close to triumph.

Like he had been waiting for this.

Like he knew exactly what I was.

One of the elders stumbled backward.

“No.”

Another grabbed the edge of the table.

“That isn’t possible.”

The High Priestess stared at my arms.

Then dropped to her knees.

My mother gasped.

“High Priestess?”

She didn’t answer.

Her face had gone white.

Her eyes lifted slowly to mine.

“No,” she whispered.

My heart pounded.

“What?”

Her gaze fell again to the glowing symbols.

“Those markings…”

She swallowed.

Behind her, the elders looked terrified.

But not confused.

Terrified.

As if the symbols meant something they had hoped never to see.

My blood went cold.

“What are they?”

The High Priestess looked up at me.

And whispered the words that silenced the entire room.

“The markings of the First Luna.”