Piper takes a slow step back. “My whole family,” she whispers. “All of them. All these years.”
“Yes.”
Her hands shake. She hides them in her sleeves. “And Veda?” she asks, voice tight. “What happened to her?”
“No one knows. But whatever she chose… it consumed her.”
Piper closes her eyes, shoulders trembling once. “I can’t do this,” she says softly. “Not right now.”
“You don’t have a choice,” I say. “We don’t have a lot of time.”
“Great,” she snaps. “So I’m on some cosmic timer?”
“You are.”
She glares at me. “Slade. You’re supposed to lie in moments like this.”
“I don’t lie.” Not to her.
Before she can argue, the front door unlocks—of its own accord. A swirl of frost-scented air sweeps through the apartment. And Rhea strides in. Hair wild from travel. Coat dusted with snow. Eyes sharp with knowledge she looks desperate to unload.
“How,” Piper croaks, “are you already HERE?”
“Private portal,” Rhea says simply. “I wasn’t going to trust that call to finish.” She sets her bags down and marches straight to us. “I heard theinterference,” she says to me. “Someone does NOT want this prophecy spoken out loud.”
Piper swallows. “Prophecy?”
Rhea turns to her, expression fierce, almost protective. “You have until Christmas Eve.”
Piper freezes. Completely. “Until Christmas Eve to what?” she whispers.
“To decide,” Rhea says, voice low, “whether you accept the bond.”
My entire body goes still. Rhea continues, undeterred. “If you accept Slade—if you let the bond click into place—it will break the curse.”
Piper’s lips part. No sound comes out. “And if I don’t?” she finally manages.
Rhea’s expression darkens. “Then the curse will move on,” she says softly. “For another hundred years. Another cycle. Another generation of Bellamy witches.”
Piper stares at her cousin like the world is tilting sideways. “You’re telling me,” she says slowly, “that I have three—three weeks—to decide if I’mgoing to mate myself to a demon lord to stop an ancient bloodline curse?”
“Technically two and a half,” Rhea corrects.
Piper looks at me. And I feel the bond surge—raw, hot, too aware of her fear.
I take a step forward. “Piper,” I say gently, “this isn’t about forcing a bond. It’s about protecting you. Your family. Your power. Your life.”
Her eyes shine—not with tears, but fury. “Don’t,” she whispers. “Don’t make it sound noble.”
“It is.”
“It’sconvenient,” she snaps. “You show up in my living room, tell me I’m your mate, then surprise—if I don’t agree by Christmas, I doom my family for another century.”
“It’s not convenient,” I say. “It’s cosmic alignment. Bloodline fate. A choice onlyyoucan make.”
“And if I choose wrong?”
“You won’t.”
