Elian slept for 13 hours without waking up.
They kept an eye on him in the med bay, which was deep beneath Rowan's estate and surrounded by silverweave shielding and a circle of old lunar runes. His vital signs were getting better. The bad mark is gone. The glow of the first crescent is now faint but still there.
Real.
He was still Elian.
But the danger wasn't over.
I stood alone on the balcony, looking out over the trees. My mark glowed softly in the moonlight. The wind was sharp and felt like a whisper on my skin. Wolves howled far below. It was a warning, not a song.
"She was just the first," I said softly.
Rowan said behind me, "She was a blueprint," and stepped closer. "The model of what they want to replace you with."
I turned, expecting him to sound far away.
Instead, he looked rough. Used.
Not the CEO. Not Alpha.
Only Rowan.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
He just said, "No."
I nodded. "Same."
We stood there for a long time. No lies. No titles. Just the truth.
Then he took a breath.
He said, "I lost control of everything I built." "My company. My name. The trust of my own wolves. And for what?"
He looked at me.
"You."
My chest tightened.
"I don't regret it," he added. "But I need to know you don't either."
I stepped toward him.
"You think I care about buildings and titles and stock portfolios?"
He didn't answer.
I raised my wrist.
"This brand didn't make me yours, Rowan. But what you did—what you gave up to keep me alive—that did."
His hand reached for mine. Slowly. Carefully.
When his fingers brushed my mark, the crescent pulsed—once, then again, glowing brighter.
A warmth spread up my arm, into my chest.
A bond… locking into place.
Not forced.
Not broken.
Mutual.
Real.
"You're sealing it," he said, voice almost a whisper.
"I am."
"You're sure?"
"Yes."
I reached up and touched the mark on his collarbone.
Silver light flared between us.
The full mate bond ignited.
And suddenly I could feel his heartbeat through my fingertips.
His pain.
His protectiveness.
His fear.
His love—buried deep under everything he didn't say out loud.
My eyes filled.
"It's done," I whispered.
He exhaled like he hadn't breathed in days.
Then he pulled me into him.
Not a possessive grip.
Not a command.
Just... an anchor.
And I let him.
For once, I didn't need to fight the moment.
We stood like that for a long time—two scars pressed together, two lives rewritten by a mark neither of us asked for.
Until the sirens wailed.
We pulled apart.
Rowan grabbed his comm. "Report."
The reply came sharp, panicked.
"South perimeter breach. Two unidentifieds. One branded. The other—fluctuating. We think… she's unstable."
Rowan looked at me.
"They moved faster than we thought."
"Elian said first bride," I reminded him. "That means there are more."
"And they're coming here."
I grabbed my blades. "Then we make sure this place holds."
Rowan hesitated. "There's something else."
I paused.
He stepped closer again, pulling a small, ancient scroll from his inner coat pocket.
"What is that?"
"A relic from the Vault. I didn't show you earlier because I wasn't sure it was real."
He unrolled it.
My breath caught.
It was a prophecy.
Drawn in blood.
Two wolves—marked.
One silver. One red.
A crown between them.
And beneath it, a single sentence written in runic script: "Only one bride shall rule. The other must bleed."
I looked at Rowan.
"There can't be two bonded," he said. "Not under the moon."
I nodded, numb.
And just as the door burst open with a fresh guard report, I already knew what it meant.
They weren't just coming to replace me. They were coming to kill me.