My gaze settles on Piper—my intended—because she deserves this truth more than anyone. “She abandoned the bond because she wanted more power.”
Piper sucks in a sharp breath. “What?”
“She didn’t run from destiny,” I murmur. “She ran from accountability. From balance. From the one thing the bond would have demanded of her.”
Rhea finds her voice first. “Which was?”
“A sharing of power,” I say simply. “A merging of it.”
The cousins stare at me as though I’ve ripped open centuries of silence—and I have.
“Demon bonds,” I explain, “don’t take from witches. They equalize and unify. They demand honesty and sacrifice.”
Piper whispers, “And Veda didn’t want that.”
“No,” I say. “She wanted supremacy.”
Rhea’s mouth falls open. “You’re telling me our sweet, ancient, slightly spooky ancestor—”
“Was a power-hungry liar,” I finish. “Yes.”
Piper looks like she’s been struck. I soften my tone. Only for her. Never for anyone else. “When she broke the bond, the magic snapped. It twisted. And because she lied about her reasons, the curse became a corrupted echo of the original bond’s purpose.”
Rhea takes a step forward, voice trembling with a mixture of anger and awe. “And what was the original purpose?”
I look at Piper—her curls. That stubborn chin. Those blue eyes shining with fear and defianceand something fragile she won’t name. “You,” I say quietly. “You were meant to be thecure, Piper—not the sacrifice.”
Her breath shatters in the air.
Rhea’s eyes go wide. “Holy shit.”
Piper shakes her head. “Slade… stop.”
“I can’t,” I whisper. “Not anymore.”
I step toward her—and she doesn’t move. “You think I came here to take advantage of your bloodline?” I say. “You think I want you for your curse? For some ancestral debt?” I lean forward, letting her feel the heat of every truth I’ve held back. “I didn’t know fate was offering me the one thing my line has waited five hundred years for.”
Her lips part.
“And it isn’t power,” I murmur. “It’s you.”
The curse stirs—lights flickering overhead, a low hum vibrating through the shelves.
Rhea inhales sharply. “Oh no. Nope. Nope. The air is doing thatthingagain.”
Piper closes her eyes—just once. Then opens them again. Blue fire... Fear… Want... Anger… All braided together. “Slade,” she whispers, voice trembling, “why didn’t Veda tell the truth?”
My answer is a blade. “Because she didn’t want anyone to know she gave up the one person she was ever meant to love.”
Piper flinches. Then, Rhea curses under her breath. And the curse pulses so hard the ornaments on the nearest tree tremble.
They’re not gonna like it, but… This is only the beginning.
***
Silence.
Thick. Unmoving. Crushing.
