PROLOGUE
The worldas we knew it ended twenty years ago, but nobody wants to admit it yet.
When the Fae courts tore through the barriers between worlds, everyone expected war. Fire and blood and the end of human civilization as we knew it. Instead, we got something much worse—we got diplomacy.
The Fae didn't conquer us. They didn't need to. They just smiled with their perfect faces and offered us deals we couldn't refuse. Magic to heal our dying planet. Technology beyond our wildest dreams. Protection from the chaos that followed the Sundering. All they wanted in return was a little cooperation. Some territory here and there. A few trade agreements. Nothing too unreasonable.
And if some of our daughters happened to catch the eye of their princes along the way? Well, that was just the price of peace.
The return of omegas started not with a bang but with a sigh of resignation. Fae researchers "discovered" that certain women had dormant blood that could be awakened by Fae magic, turning them into perfect matches for fae alpha biology. These women were special, they said. Chosen. Their transformationwas natural, beautiful even. The lucky families received wealth and status. The transformed women seemed happy in their new lives.
Everyone won.
Except nobody talks about what happens if an omega tries to come home. Nobody asks why the cultural exchange programs only go one way. Nobody wonders why the families who "volunteer" their daughters always seem to get the best government contracts afterward.
Because asking those questions would mean admitting that we're not partners in this arrangement—we're cattle being managed by very patient farmers.
Eight courts now control most of the habitable world, ruled by princes so old they remember when humans were enslaved by fae, before the Sundering separated our worlds. Each court offers something we desperately need. The Thorn Court feeds us. The Stone Court protects us. The Frost Court heals us. The Vine Court sustains our harvests. We've become so dependent on their gifts that the thought of losing them is unthinkable.
Which is exactly what they wanted.
Hidden in the deepest vaults of each court lies an ancient prophecy, written before the Sundering, before Lyralei Ravencrest, when humans knew to be afraid of the beautiful monsters who ruled over them. Eight bonds, it says. Eight matings between court rulers and human women of specific bloodlines. Eight love stories that will weave a spell so powerful it will make rebellion not just impossible, but literally unthinkable.
The prophecy calls it the Blood Debt—payment for an ancient crime humanity committed when the worlds were young, so long ago that we've forgotten what it was. It's the final step in a plan centuries in the making. A way to ensure that humanity'ssurrender becomes permanent, encoded in magic so deep that future generations won't even remember they had a choice.
The Fae have been breeding us for this moment. Encouraging certain bloodlines. Placing their people in key positions. Shaping our culture until we produce exactly the daughters they need—smart enough to be useful, strong enough to be interesting, but naive enough to think they're different from all the other women who've disappeared into Fae courts with stars in their eyes.
These daughters know about omega claiming. But they've been raised to believe it happens to weak women. Desperate women. Women who secretly wanted to be swept away by powerful alpha magic.
They have no idea that wanting it was never part of the equation.
The prophecy is finally ready to unfold. Eight diplomatic missions. Eight "cultural exchanges." Eight women who think they're too smart, too strong, too independent to fall for ancient magic and older seductions.
Eight love stories that will end human freedom forever.
The third bond begins now.
CHAPTER 1
MAYA
The microscope clicksas I adjust the focus, bringing the pollen sample into sharp relief. Three AM. The biology building is silent except for the hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of laughter from Sarah's celebration party still going on across campus. Another breakthrough for Dr. Sarah Nakamura, world-renowned omega biology researcher. Another round of champagne toasts while I sit in my cramped lab, chasing shadows that no one will ever notice.
I lean back in my chair and rub my tired eyes, trying to ignore the familiar ache in my chest that comes with being forgotten. My fertility research on stress adaptation should have been the headline story this week. Six months of eighteen-hour days documenting how plant reproduction responds to environmental pressure. Data that could revolutionize agricultural yields in drought conditions. Research that actually matters.
But Sarah's latest paper on omega pheromone responses got published in Nature the same day my work went live in a mid-tier agricultural journal. Guess which one the university decided to celebrate with a champagne reception and media interviews?
Not mine.
The lab door opens with a soft whoosh, and I don't need to look up to know who it is. Sarah's perfume always announces her arrival—something expensive that makes me intensely aware of my own worn jeans and wrinkled lab coat.
"Maya?" Her voice carries that particular tone she uses when she's about to make me feel five years old again. "What are you doing here so late?"
"Working." I keep my eyes on the microscope, documenting the cellular structures I've been mapping for weeks. "Some of us don't get invited to celebration parties."
"Oh, honey." Sarah's heels click against the linoleum as she approaches my workstation. "I looked for you at the reception. Everyone was asking where you were."
Bullshit. No one at the reception even knows I exist. I'm "Sarah's little sister who works with plants" to the faculty. The one who got into the graduate program because her sister put in a good word. The one who'll never be anything more than a footnote in someone else's success story.
