"Talking fiery temperament one moment, dreaming under the hunter’s moon the next," he rumbles, low against my skin. "You’re a dangerous contradiction, Tessa Monroe." His arms tighten just slightly. Possessively. Reluctantly.
"My dangerous contradiction."
30
DARIUS
The night is too still.
Not in the way that brings peace, but in the way that makes you feel like you’re being watched. The kind of stillness where even the wind holds its breath, where the forest beyond the estate walls feels like a living thing that has gone quiet to see what I’ll do next.
The terrace stones are rimed with frost, thin as glass, catching the moonlight in shards. My boots scrape softly over them when I shift my stance. I’ve been out here for longer than I should be in this weather—bare arms, no coat, no care.
But I’m not cold. The weight in my hand burns colder than the air anyway.
The Crimson Seal is small enough to vanish in my palm, yet every time I look at it, I feel the years on my shoulders. A disc carved from the tusk of a beast that took me three days and nights to bring down, a beast that nearly took my arm before I put it in the ground. The carving is simple—a wolf’s head, muzzle lifted, eyes narrowed—not just a symbol, but a reminder of the night the Pact was sworn.
I rub my thumb over the grooves worn into it, not in thoughtless habit but because I can still feel the heat of the blood we spilled that night, the echo of the firelight on their faces. Rafe, Cassian, Malek… the others. We were younger, faster to bleed and faster to heal. We believed in something then. Believed in each other.
Mary’s shadow shifts behind me before she speaks, her voice low enough not to carry. “Once you send that… there’s no turning back.”
I don’t turn. I’ve known her long enough to hear the things she doesn’t say. The worry. The memory. The part of her that remembers the last time I held the Seal like this.
“There’s been no turning back since Roman crossed my border,” I say, my voice even. “This isn’t about choice anymore.”
She steps into the moonlight, her arms folded against the cold, but her eyes locked on the Seal. “You think calling them will stop him?”
I huff a humorless breath. “No. I think calling them means we won’t face him alone.”
Before she can answer, I hear the quiet patter of bare feet behind me. Tessa steps out into the cold without hesitation, her hair loose, brushing over her shoulders, wearing nothing but one of my shirts. She’s small against the vast black of the forest, but she doesn’t look fragile. She never has.
“You’re calling them,” she says, her gaze dropping to the Seal.
“Yes.”
Her eyes meet mine, steady. “How does it work?”
“It’s bound magic,” I tell her, turning it so she can see the runes on the reverse, lines so fine they seem etched by a blade of light rather than steel. “Every member carries a shard. It’s tied to us. Blood-bound. When one is awakened, the others feel it. A pull under the ribs, deep enough to make sleep impossible until you follow it home.”
“And if they fight it?”
I shake my head. “They won’t. Not forever. The oath isn’t something you outrun. Not in this life.”
Her mouth curves, faint but certain. “Then do it.”
For a moment, I just stand there, the Seal heavy in my palm, the air around us tightening like it knows what’s coming. The memory of the last time I held it like this flashes: Cassian’s laughter, Rafe’s grin, Malek’s thin, knowing smile. We were a storm then. I mean to be again.
I press my thumb to the Seal’s center, hard enough to break skin. Blood wells instantly, dark and slow in the cold, and seeps into the carved lines. The runes stir like they’re waking from a long sleep, first a faint ember glow, then brighter—red as banked coals, then red as fresh blood, pulsing in time with my heart. The light spills across my palm, across the stones, painting the snow crimson in a slow, steady ripple that seems to travel outward into the trees.
The air tastes different now. Iron and frost, heavy with old power.
The Seal’s glow fades, but the sense of it doesn’t. It’s gone out, far and fast, faster than thought. They’ll feel it. Wherever they are.
I drop my hand to my side, the Seal cooling quickly, and turn toward Tessa—only to see her go still. Her breath catches, her pupils flare wide, and her body sways just enough that I move instantly, catching her around the waist.
“Tessa.”
She doesn’t look at me. Her eyes are far away, seeing something else.
