Chapter 41

POV: Caelum

I didn’t mean to say it.

Not then.

Not like that.

But when she was beneath me, her body wrapped around mine, her breath ragged and desperate, her hands clutching at my back like I was the only thing grounding her to this world…

I couldn’t hold it in.

Not when I felt everything.

Not when the bond was burning through me, sinking so fucking deep I knew I could never come back from it.

She was mine.

Mine.

I had taken her. Marked her. Bonded her in a way that should have felt forced, unnatural.

But it didn’t.

It felt real.

It felt inevitable.

And as her lips parted on a gasp, as I felt her break apart beneath me, as my name ripped from her throat like it was the only one she had ever known—

The words fell from my lips before I could stop them.

“I love you.”

Her body stilled.

For a split second, I felt terror.

Had I said too much? Had I ruined this? Had I just given her another reason to hate me?

And then—

Her hand slid to my face.

She cupped my jaw, her eyes locked onto mine, her chest still rising and falling with every shaky breath—

And she whispered, “I love you too.”

And I was fucking ruined.

I kissed her again, deeper, slower this time, feeling the words settle into my skin like something I would never be able to wash away.

Like something I never wanted to.

---

I never meant for her to hear.

I never meant for this to be the thing that shattered everything between us.

But she had heard me speaking to Kazzar. She had heard the truth.

She had heard me lie to her.

And after that, she was gone.

Not physically. No, she was still here. Still in my pack. Still in my presence.

But she might as well have been on another fucking continent.

She wouldn’t speak to me. She wouldn’t look at me.

And I was breaking.

Seeing her and not touching her? Sleeping in the same bed and feeling her turn away when I reached for her?

It was fucking unbearable.

I would rather have a hundred battles, a thousand wounds, than this.

The moment the alarm rang through the pack, my first thought was her.

Where was she? Was she safe?

I ran through the battlefield like a man possessed, slicing through rogues, taking hit after hit, but I didn’t care—not until I saw her.

She was desperate to fight. Of course she was. That was who she was.

But I grabbed her arms, held her tight.

“Not this time.” My voice was hoarse, raw. Desperate. “I need you safe.”

She fought me. Of course she did.

But I sent her to the healers, to tend to the wounded. Because I knew she wouldn’t sit still, and at least there, she wouldn’t be in the center of the carnage.

And then—I fought.

I killed.

For her.

For this pack.

For us.

And when the last rogue fell, when the dust settled and the blood dried on my skin—

I turned, and I saw her.

Standing there. Staring at me.

And then she ran.

Straight into my arms.

I caught her. Held her. Buried my face in her neck as she shook in my arms.

And I knew.

She didn’t hate me anymore.

She never did.

Because despite it all, she still loved me.

That night, we said nothing.

There were no words.

Just breath and heat and touch.

She pulled me into our room, closed the door, and then she was on me.

Her lips were wild, desperate, claiming.

And fuck, I gave her everything.

I carried her to the bed, let her pull me down on top of her, felt her wrap around me like she had been aching for this as much as I had.

It wasn’t slow.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was fire.

It was forgiveness and fury all tangled together.

And when I finally had her, when I finally sank deep inside her, felt her walls tighten around me like she was made for me—

I knew.

She was home.

And for the first time in my life, I let myself have paradise.

Even if I knew it wouldn’t last.

I had spent months pretending that this would never happen.

That I could keep her.

That she would never know.

That she would never look at him the way she was supposed to.

But then he arrived.

And the moment I saw him standing at the gates, staring at my mate, my wife, my Luna—

I knew.

I fucking knew.

It was only a matter of time before she felt it.

Before she realized everything I had done.

No.

No.

I felt it before I saw him. A shift in the air, a pull in the bond—like something ancient, something inevitable settling into place. And then he was there. Gavriel.

Eve’s true mate.

My breath strangled in my chest. My hands curled into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. This couldn’t be happening. I had buried this truth, torn it apart, rewritten fate with my own hands. I had taken her, bonded her to me. She was mine.

Mine.

But as his eyes found hers, as something invisible but powerful crackled between them, I felt it. The raw, unshakable truth of their connection. A truth I had tried to deny.

My lungs burned. My pulse roared in my ears.

No.

Not him. Not now. Not when I had already fought so hard, already bled for her, already made her mine.

But as Eve took a sharp breath, as something in her shattered and reformed the moment she looked at him—I knew.

I was losing her.

I had prepared myself for a lot of things.

For her to hate me.

For her to leave me.

For her to never forgive me.

But I wasn’t prepared for this.

For the bond to sear with her emotions, for me to feel the slow build of need, curiosity, longing.

And then—pain.

A sharp, gut-wrenching pain right through my chest.

Because she had kissed him.

And I felt all of it.

The heat. The slow way her body gave in.

The way she let him pull her closer.

I clenched my jaw so hard it ached.

I had no right to be angry.

No right to be jealous.

But fuck, I was.

I told myself I wouldn’t do it.

That I wouldn’t touch her after what she had done.

That I would be stronger than this.

But the second she stepped into my office—alone, looking at me with uncertainty and guilt and something else I couldn’t name—

I was lost.

I crossed the distance between us before she could breathe a word.

I grabbed her chin, tilted her face up to me—

And I kissed her.

Hard.

Deep.

Desperate.

I wanted her to feel me.

To feel that I was still here.

That she was mine, even if the bond had other plans.

And fuck, she kissed me back.

She let me pull her against me, let me pour every ounce of fury and hunger and possession into her.

But I felt it—the way she trembled.

The way she was conflicted.

And I hated it.

So I forced myself to pull away.

To let her go.

Because if I didn’t—I’d never stop.

And right now, I wasn’t sure if I was fighting for her…

Or just trying to stop myself from falling apart.

She never should have known about all that. Witched, war, Gavriel.

I had to make sure of that.

Because if she knew—if she had a choice—

She never would have picked me.

And that was the ugliest fucking truth of all.

So I lied.

I let her believe her true mate was dead. I let her believe I was the only one she had.

I did it to protect her. To keep her safe.

But mostly—

I did it because I was a selfish fucking bastard who couldn’t bear the thought of losing her.

And now…

Now I was going to pay for it.

Because no matter what I’d done to keep her—

I was about to lose her anyway.

Chapter 42

POV: Caelum

He was touching her.

I felt it through the bond.

The shift in her heartbeat, the slow unraveling of restraint.

The moment his hands traced over her skin.

The moment she let him.

I gripped the edge of my desk, the wood splintering beneath my fingers.

I could have stopped them.

I could have forbidden it.

But I didn’t.

Because I was not her true mate.

Because she was his.

Because no matter how much I had fought for her—bled for her—lied for her—

I was losing her.

A sharp pain lashed through my chest, the bond between us twisting, tightening like a noose.

I felt everything.

The way she gasped beneath him.

The way her body responded.

The way she gave herself away—not just physically.

But in the way that fucking mattered.

I could have handled the lust.

I could have handled the pleasure.

But this?

This was something else.

This was her heart breaking open for someone else.

I shoved back from my desk, my breath ragged, my body wound too tight to contain the sheer violence of what I was feeling.

I had known.

I had fucking known that Gavriel planned this.

A picnic.

Some stupid, fucking romantic picnic—

And still, I let it happen.

I could have ordered him to train. Sent him away on a mission. Made him leave.

But what good would it have done?

She was his.

She had always been his.

And yet, the second I felt her come undone beneath him, something inside me snapped.

I stormed out of my office, my strides sharp, lethal.

No one dared to stop me.

They knew better.

I took the stairs two at a time, my hands curled into fists at my sides.

By the time I reached her bedroom, my breath was ragged, my body burning from the inside out.

I stepped inside.

And I waited.

Waited for her to return.

Waited for her to face me.

Waited to see if she could look me in the eyes and tell me she didn’t feel this too.

That she didn’t still belong to me.

Even if she belonged to him.

She smelled like him.

The moment she stepped into the room, I knew.

The bond between us wasn’t just a tether—it was a fucking lifeline. And I had felt it the second she gave herself to him.

Felt it like a dagger through my ribs.

Twisting.

Tearing.

Unraveling me from the inside out.

And yet, she was still mine.

I sat in the armchair by the fireplace, watching her.

She froze the moment our eyes met.

A sharp inhale. A pulse stuttering in her throat.

Because she knew.

She knew I felt everything.

She swallowed hard, her hands clenched at her sides. “Caelum—”

“Did you think I wouldn’t feel it?”

My voice was quiet. Too quiet.

She hesitated, her lips parting—but she had no answer.

Because this wasn’t just jealousy.

It wasn’t just possessiveness.

It was devotion.

I stood, slow and deliberate, every step bringing me closer.

Her scent—our scent—tainted with him, and my body went taut with the need to erase him from her skin.

To make her remember who she truly belonged to.

My palm slammed against the wall beside her head, caging her in.

Not touching her.

But close enough that I could feel the heat of her body against mine.

“I felt you,” I whispered, my breath ragged. “I felt everything.”

She sucked in a breath, her gaze flickering, a battle waging behind her eyes. “I told you. I love him.”

A heartbeat.

Two.

My jaw clenched so hard it ached.

“I know.”

“Then why are you acting like this?”

I laughed. Low and dark. A bitter, broken sound.

“Because I love you too, Eve.”

“And it’s fucking killing me.”

She flinched.

As if the weight of my love was something she hadn’t expected.

As if she hadn’t already been drowning in it.

Her eyes softened, something breaking inside her. “Then why—why didn’t you—”

I tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at me.

“Because I don’t get to keep you,” I murmured, my thumb brushing the corner of her mouth. “Not the way he does.”

Her lips parted, a soft exhale escaping. “Caelum…”

My hand curled around her jaw, my control fraying at the edges.

“But you’re still mine.”

And then I kissed her.

Hard.

Deep.

Desperate.

This wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t careful.

It was fucking destruction.

Raw. Violent. Unforgiving.

She gasped against my lips, her hands pressing to my chest—to push me away or pull me closer, I didn’t know.

I didn’t care.

Because the second I tasted her, I was lost.

She melted beneath me, her body arching, her need just as violent as mine.

I growled against her lips, my grip tightening, dragging her closer, pressing her flush against me.

She whimpered when my teeth grazed her bottom lip, when my hands mapped every inch of her body—gripping, claiming, worshiping.

“I missed you,” I rasped, my lips trailing down her throat. “I fucking miss you every second you’re not mine.”

Her breath shuddered.

“Even when I’m his, I’m still yours…”

Something inside me shattered.

I groaned, my hands gripping her thighs, lifting her against me.

She wrapped her legs around my waist, clinging to me like she had been drowning and I was the only thing keeping her afloat.

I carried her to the bed.

Too raw to let her walk.

Too consumed to let her go.

I worshiped her.

Stripped her.

Took my time memorizing every inch of her skin, every sound she made, every way her body responded to me.

I kissed her like she was my salvation.

My ruin.

My only fucking reason to breathe.

I made her come apart beneath me, her body trembling, her cries filling the room.

And when I finally slid inside her, when her body tightened around me, it wasn’t just lust.

It was love.

It was agony.

It was devotion.

I moved slowly at first, savoring her, drowning in her.

My forehead pressed to hers.

My breath mingled with hers.

Our bodies locked in something more than just pleasure.

Her eyes met mine. Wide. Vulnerable.

Something breaking open between us.

Then I moved harder. Deeper.

Not just chasing release—chasing eternity.

She tightened around me, her nails digging into my skin, and when I thrust into her one last time, she shattered with me.

I bit down on my mark, sealing her pleasure with mine. Binding her to me again.

“Mine,” I rasped, my voice hoarse, my body trembling.

She gasped, and I felt it in her soul.

Yes.

Fuck, yes.

But it still wasn’t enough.

Not even when we were breathless.

Not even when her body begged for rest.

Because Eve wasn’t just my mate.

She was my oxygen.

My reason to live.

And no matter how much I gave her—no matter how many times I made her fall apart beneath me—

I would always want more.

Because she had become my sacred thing.

My fucking everything.

---

The bed was too small for the three of us.

Or at least, it should have been.

But with her curled between us, her warmth pressed against my chest, her steady breathing filling the room, I felt… whole.

I never expected to feel that way.

To share her.

To accept it.

But lying there, with her fingers tangled in my shirt, her leg draped lazily over mine, and Gavriel’s arm wrapped around her waist from behind—

It didn’t feel wrong.

It felt like belonging.

Like keeping her.

And I would do anything—anything—to keep her.

Even if it meant sharing her.

Even if it meant letting another man love what was mine.

Because she was mine.

Even if she was his, too.

Even if the universe had marked them for each other first.

The next morning, she woke first. Smiling.

She stretched between us, soft and lazy, her lips brushing over Gavriel’s before she turned to me, her fingers grazing my jaw.

And then she kissed me too.

Fuck.

That was all it took—one soft press of her lips, one quiet good morning, and I was ruined.

Breakfast was strange after that.

Not in a bad way.

But in a way that made my chest tighten, my instincts pulling in two directions at once.

Gavriel watched her like he wanted to devour her.

And I—

I watched her like I already had.

She laughed, she teased, she looked at both of us with something softer than lust, something deeper than desire.

And I knew—

She was falling.

For him.

For me.

For us.

And maybe, for the first time, I could let myself believe that this wasn’t about winning or losing her.

Because in the end—

She was still ours.

I left them after breakfast, retreating to my office, drowning myself in responsibilities.

I had too much to do—plans to secure, alliances to reinforce.

But she was on my mind.

Even before I felt it.

The kiss.

The soft press of Gavriel’s lips on hers.

I gritted my teeth, my fingers curling against the desk.

I could feel it—taste it—through the bond.

Her pleasure.

Her surrender.

I should be angry.

I should be jealous.

But all I felt was acceptance.

Because she was mine too.

And that was all that mattered.

Then—

A shift.

Something wrong.

It was subtle at first, like a whisper against my senses, a faint tugging in my chest.

I ignored it.

I forced myself to focus.

But the feeling only grew stronger.

A pull—sharp, insistent.

Like something inside me was unraveling.

I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.

Something was wrong.

I left my office, my strides sharp and purposeful.

By the time I reached her office, my pulse was pounding.

She wasn’t there.

The space was empty—but something felt off.

Something was missing.

I turned on my heel, heading straight for the training grounds.

Gavriel was there, his body tense, his brows furrowed when he saw me.

“Where’s Eve?” My voice was too steady for what I felt inside.

Gavriel wiped the sweat from his brow. “She had meetings this morning. I passed by her office before training, and gave her a kiss. Someone came for her. A woman.”

My stomach dropped.

A chill sliced through me, deeper than instinct, sharper than fear.

“Who?” I demanded.

Gavriel frowned. “She said her name was Veronica.”

Everything in me stilled.

The world blurred—everything but that name.

My breath turned ragged, my vision narrowing, my blood running ice cold.

“There is no employee named Veronica.”

The words barely left my lips—just a whisper.

A realization.

A confirmation of my worst fucking fear.

Gavriel stiffened. “What?”

I turned to him, my heart slamming against my ribs.

The witches took her.

Chapter 43

POV: Gavriel

I wasn’t supposed to be back yet.

The mission was unfinished.

But so was he.

Talon.

My brother in every way that mattered.

We weren’t blood, but we had been born into the same loneliness.

Two orphans, raised together in the pack house, training side by side, watching each other’s backs like we were bound by something deeper than fate.

He was supposed to be beside me.

But he was gone.

I returned with the weight of his death settling like stone in my chest, stepping through the gates of the headquarters of the guard, my mind still lost in the battlefield—

Until I saw her.

A flash of golden hair.

A shift of green eyes, locked onto mine.

The world tilted.

Like the ground itself had fractured beneath my feet, like the air had been knocked from my lungs.

Mine.

The word slammed into me, vicious and undeniable.

My heart thundered. My instincts roared.

Mate.

She was my mate.

My blood recognized her.

Every inch of me called for her, a hunger so primal, so fierce, it should have swallowed me whole.

She stared at me, eyes wide, lips parted, and I could see it—she felt it too.

The pull. The connection. The thing we had been created for.

But then I saw it.

The mark.

A bond already forged, burned into her skin—

And not just any bond.

Caelum.

I felt like I’d been struck, the impact shattering through me.

Because it wasn’t just a mark.

It was his mark.

My Alpha.

The one who had given me a home when I had nothing.

The one who had seen something in a street orphan and let me stay.

A man the world called a monster—

But I had only ever known as a protector.

A man I had killed for.

A man I would die for.

And now, his mate was mine.

Fate was fucking cruel.

Because I wanted her. Fuck, I wanted her.

Every cell in my body ached for her, my soul already burning in the presence of hers—

But she wasn’t just mine.

She was his too.

And I didn’t know if I would survive that.

I should have stayed away.

I told myself I would.

But she was everywhere.

In my thoughts. In my blood. In every breath I took.

And then I found her alone in the library, candlelight flickering over her skin, her brows furrowed in concentration, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she read.

And I was fucking lost.

She looked up as I approached, something flickering in her gaze—something unsure.

Something that made my pulse pound.

“I don’t know what to do with this,” she murmured, closing the book in her hands.

I swallowed hard. “With what?”

Her lips parted. Hesitated.

Then, so quietly I almost didn’t hear—

“With you.”

The air crackled between us, thick with something too sharp to name.

I should have stepped back.

I should have let her go.

But I didn’t.

I reached for her, my fingers brushing over her jaw, tilting her face up to mine.

“Then don’t think,” I whispered.

Her breath hitched—

And then I kissed her.

And fuck—

It wasn’t soft.

It wasn’t careful.

It was everything I had been holding back.

It was need.

It was desperation.

It was home.

Her hands fisted in my shirt, pulling me closer, and I let her.

I let her consume me.

Because she was mine.

Even if she was his too.

She couldn’t sleep without us.

I figured it out that first night.

She thought she could—she tried.

But when she thought neither of us were looking, she came to us.

Curled between us.

Sought out our warmth.

Our presence.

And fuck, I wasn’t strong enough to push her away.

So I held her.

And I woke to her watching me.

She traced a fingertip over my chest, over the scars I had earned, her green eyes dark, unreadable.

“I love you,” she whispered, like she was saying it for the first time.

Like it wasn’t something she was supposed to say.

Like it wasn’t something she should admit.

My breath caught.

And I couldn’t said back them, not with Caelum there, so I waited until I was alone with her.

“I love you.”

And I had never meant anything more.

I wanted to give her something normal.

Something that wasn’t about duty or war or bonds we couldn’t escape.

So I brought her here.

To the quiet, to the wildflowers, to the place where the world felt far away.

We ate. We talked. We laughed.

And then she looked at me.

And I knew.

We kissed, her fingers tangling in my hair, her breath mingling with mine.

And fuck.

I needed her.

So I took her.

Laid her down in the grass, the sun catching in her golden hair, her green eyes blown wide, trusting.

I worshiped her.

Made her forget everything but this.

Made her feel every inch of what I felt for her—what I had always felt.

And when I slid inside her, when her body clung to mine, I knew—

This wasn’t just about desire.

This was something deeper.

Something unchangeable.

Because no matter what fate had decided—

She was mine.

And I would never let her go.

I wasn’t sure what to expect when she asked us both to stay.

When she curled between us, claiming she couldn’t sleep without us.

But the moment I felt her body relax, her breath evening out, I understood.

She needed both of us.

And as much as I wanted to be selfish—to have her to myself—I couldn’t deny it.

I couldn’t deny the way she fit perfectly between us, as if she was meant to be there all along.

I glanced at Caelum over her sleeping form.

His dark eyes met mine, unreadable, but something about them told me he felt it too.

That strange, unfamiliar sense of rightness.

As if, for the first time, neither of us were fighting against it.

I didn’t know if we would ever fully understand this.

But for tonight, with her warmth between us, her scent lulling me into sleep—

I didn’t fucking care.

The first thing I felt was her touch.

Fingertips grazing over my jaw.

Soft lips pressing against mine, a slow, sleepy kiss that pulled me into awareness.

I sighed into her mouth, deepening it, my hand finding her waist, keeping her close.

She giggled against me, radiant, happy, and fuck—I loved her like this.

Then she shifted—

And I watched as she turned to Caelum.

I should’ve looked away.

But I didn’t.

I watched as she pressed her lips to his, just as soft, just as tender.

And instead of jealousy, something inside me settled.

Because she was his.

And she was mine.

And for the first time, I thought…

Maybe that was okay.

I found her in her office, leaning over papers, her fingers absently tapping against the desk.

She didn’t hear me come in.

Which gave me just enough time to admire her—the way her golden hair fell over her shoulder, the way her lips pursed in concentration, the way she made everything seem so effortless.

I stepped closer, slipping an arm around her waist, pressing a slow kiss to her neck.

She gasped, tilting her head, and I took advantage of it—turning her to face me, capturing her lips in a kiss that she melted into.

She tasted like honey and warmth, and fuck—I would never get enough.

She pulled away with a soft sigh.

I hummed, brushing my lips over hers once more. “Meet me there later?”

“Both of you,” she corrected, because of course Caelum would be there too.

And then she was gone.

And I had no idea I was letting her walk straight into a trap.

I was in the middle of training when I saw him.

Caelum.

I could tell the second he walked onto the field that something was wrong.

His movements were stiff. His jaw locked. His eyes dark and unreadable.

He walked straight to me. Didn’t hesitate.

“Where’s Eve?”

I frowned, wiping sweat from my brow. “She left with someone. Some woman named Veronica.”

Caelum stilled.

Every muscle in his body went rigid.

His breath came sharp.

Then, barely more than a whisper—

“There is no employee named Veronica.”

The world tilted.

Something cold and sharp cut through my chest, my entire body locking as the realization sank in.

She was gone.

The witches.

They had her.

Caelum’s hands fisted at his sides, his entire body trembling with rage, with something raw and barely contained.

We shared a look—

And in that moment, we were the same.

Desperate.

Terrified.

Fucking furious.

Because they had taken our mate.

And we would burn the whole fucking world down to get her back.

Chapter 44

POV: Caelum

I had the entire pack searching for her.

Every warrior. Every scout. Every spy.

And we still had nothing.

The scent trail had disappeared beyond the eastern border, wiped clean with magic. No bodies. No blood. No sign of a struggle.

That was the worst part.

She was just gone.

I stood in the war room, staring at the map spread across the table, my hands braced on the edges, my claws half-extended from the rage tearing through me.

Gavriel paced behind me, his breathing ragged, his body tense with a grief that hadn’t even hit me yet.

Because I couldn’t accept it.

I wouldn’t.

“She could be dead.” His voice was raw. Broken. “Caelum, we have no idea what they’ve done to her.”

I lifted my head slowly, leveling him with a look that made even him hesitate.

“She’s not dead.”

Gavriel’s jaw clenched. “You don’t know that—”

“I do.”

I reached up, dragging my shirt over my head.

And then I turned.

Let him see what I had done.

The mark on my skin wasn’t the same as my pack’s.

It was more.

Etched into my shoulder was the mark of the First Wolves, the magic of my ancestors woven into my very blood.

The identical one I had placed on Eve.

Gavriel’s eyes widened, recognition flickering over his face.

I exhaled slowly. “It ties us together.”

His throat worked around his emotions. “What does that mean?”

“It means if she were dead—” I let the words settle, let them sink into him. “I’d be dead too.”

Gavriel exhaled sharply, dragging a hand through his hair. I could feel his relief through the bond, his love for her just as strong as mine.

I clenched my fists. “She’s out there. And we’re going to find her.”

I met his gaze—this warrior, this rival, this brother from another life.

We had fought side by side before.

And now, we would fight again.

This time, for her.

Gavriel exhaled, nodding once. “Whatever it takes.”

I nodded back.

“Whatever it takes.”

The night air is thick with the scent of pine and damp earth. But beneath it, I catch something else.

Rogue.

The stench is unmistakable—unwashed skin, sweat, and blood that isn’t his own.

Beside me, Gavriel moves like a shadow, silent and precise. He doesn’t need words to communicate. Neither do I.

Then I see it—his sharp intake of breath, the tensing of his shoulders.

He’s found him.

The rogue is moving fast, weaving through the trees, but not fast enough.

Gavriel strikes first.

His dagger flashes in the moonlight, cold steel pressed against the rogue’s throat before he even realizes he’s not alone.

The bastard reacts fast—too fast. He shifts, knocking Gavriel back a step, claws slashing through the air.

But I’m already there.

I grab him by the back of the neck and slam him into the ground, the force of it shaking the earth beneath us.

His breath leaves him in a choked gasp, but he recovers fast—too fast. He shifts, twisting, fighting for his life.

Too bad he never had a chance.

He goes for my throat, but Gavriel is faster. His blade sinks deep into the rogue’s leg, cutting through tendon and muscle.

The rogue howls.

I bare my teeth, tightening my grip around his throat. “You don’t get to run.” My voice is a low, dangerous growl. “Not after what you took from us.”

Blood drips from his lips as he grins.

“You’re too late,” he wheezes. “She’s already gone.”

Something dark and lethal surges inside me.

Gavriel’s expression hardens. I feel the shift in him—the battle between control and fury.

I don’t bother fighting it.

My fist collides with the rogue’s temple. His eyes roll back.

Blackness.

Then silence.

I stand, chest heaving. Gavriel crouches down, checking his pulse before nodding once.

He’s alive. For now.

We exchange a look—wordless understanding.

He’s coming with us.

The rogue was still unconscious when we threw him into the interrogation chamber. His body hit the stone floor with a sickening thud, but I didn’t give a damn. Not when Eve was out there, taken. Not when every second wasted meant she was slipping further away.

I stood over him, my hands still curled into fists, breathing hard through my nose. Gavriel leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his jaw set like stone. His shirt was still stained with blood—not his, not mine, just another fucking reminder that we hadn’t killed enough of them yet.

“I should wake him up,” I muttered, flexing my fingers. “Make him scream the second he opens his eyes.”

Gavriel exhaled through his nose. “And if he dies before talking?”

My eyes snapped to his, sharp. “Then I’ll find another.”

He shook his head, but there was no real fight in it. Just exhaustion. Desperation. I knew he wanted to rip this bastard apart just as much as I did.

I crouched low, gripping the rogue’s throat, squeezing just enough to make his breath falter. “Wake up.”

Nothing.

A snarl tore from my lips. I struck him hard across the face, a crack echoing through the chamber. His head lolled to the side, blood trickling from his mouth—then, finally, a groan.

Gavriel sighed. “Subtle.”

“He doesn’t deserve subtle.”

The rogue coughed, blinking rapidly, his pupils blown wide with fear. Then, realization. His mouth curved into something that might have been a smirk—if he wasn’t missing half his teeth.

“You’re both wasting your time,” he rasped. “She’s already dead.”

I saw red.

Before I could move, Gavriel was in front of me, a firm hand pressing against my chest. “Not yet,” he muttered.

I bared my teeth, but his eyes were steady, holding mine.

Focus. We need him alive.

I exhaled sharply, forcing the rage down just enough. Gavriel stepped aside, then crouched beside the rogue, his voice quiet. “Where is she?”

The rogue chuckled, blood dribbling down his chin. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

Gavriel barely moved. His blade flashed, and the rogue screamed as he drove it into his thigh, twisting slow.

“Try again.”

The rogue was panting now, his body trembling from pain, but he still forced out, “You think I’m scared of you? I’d rather die than betray them.”

Gavriel pulled the knife out—then slammed it into the other leg.

Another scream. Another burst of blood.

I smirked. “Lucky for you, I don’t need you alive.”

The rogue’s breath hitched. His eyes darted between us, panic setting in.

Then the door creaked open.

Korr stepped inside, his heavy boots echoing against the stone floor. He crossed his arms, eyeing the mess we’d made. “Looks familiar,” he mused.

I turned my glare on him. “Not now, Korr.”

He ignored me, glancing between Gavriel and me. “The two of you, side by side, breaking bones and drawing blood.” He let out a low chuckle. “Reminds me of when you were young training together. You remember?”

Gavriel said nothing. He was staring at the rogue, his grip white-knuckled on his blade.

But I did remember.

Sparring in the training ring until we collapsed. The way we learned each other’s moves so well that we could predict them before they happened. The victories we earned, back to back, shoulder to shoulder.

I gritted my teeth. “That was a long time ago.”

Korr sighed. “Was it?”

The silence stretched.

Gavriel broke it first, his voice flat. “We’re wasting time.”

He was right. I turned back to the rogue, grabbing his jaw, forcing him to meet my eyes. My voice was low, lethal. “You don’t have to betray them. Just tell me where to find them. I’ll do the rest.”

The rogue panted, eyes darting. “I—I don’t know exactly—”

I crushed his fingers in my grip. His shriek nearly shattered my eardrums.

“Try again.”

Through gritted teeth, he gasped, “The witches—they move her between safehouses—”

Gavriel’s body went rigid. “Where’s the next location?”

“I—I don’t know—”

Another crunch. Another scream.

But he was breaking. I could see it.

Gavriel met my gaze, and for the first time in too long, we were more than rivals, more than two men fighting for the same woman.

We were brothers again.

And we were going to burn the world down to get her back.

The rogue hadn’t given us what we needed. Yet. But we weren’t stupid—we knew the Bloodmoon Path worked with witches, and that meant only one thing.

We needed a witch of our own.

I stood over a large wooden table in the war room, Gavriel beside me, both of us scanning the maps spread out before us. We had marked every known hideout, every possible meeting point, every place the Bloodmoon Path had been spotted in the last few weeks.

“The rogue will break eventually,” Gavriel said, his voice steady, calculated. “But we can’t wait.”

I gritted my teeth. Waiting wasn’t an option. Every second Eve was gone, the mate bond pulled tighter, sharper, like a blade against my throat.

Gavriel glanced at me. “You feel it too.”

It wasn’t a question.

I didn’t answer.

He exhaled. “Then we move now.”

Korr, arms crossed, leaned against the wall. “We can’t just snatch a witch off the street. They’ll see us coming.”

I ran a hand through my hair, tension thrumming through every muscle. “Then we don’t give them a choice.”

Gavriel’s eyes flickered with understanding. “A trap.”

A slow, dangerous smile curved my lips. “Exactly.”

We had done it before—used rumors and whispers to lure enemies out of hiding. And this time, we had something the witches would want.

Silver.

Korr caught on quickly. “You want to bait them with enchanted silver.”

“They can’t resist it,” Gavriel muttered, tapping the map. “If we make it look like someone is selling rare silver artifacts—ones with power—they’ll come.”

“They won’t just send anyone,” I added. “They’ll send someone high enough to negotiate.”

Gavriel smirked. “Which means we get exactly who we need.”

It was perfect. A calculated strategy—Gavriel’s specialty—with just enough risk to satisfy the storm raging in my chest.

Now, we just had to execute it.

Chapter 45

POV: Eve

Pain dragged me from the depths of unconsciousness. A slow, aching pull, as if my body had been torn apart and stitched back together with fire.

I gasped, my throat raw, my limbs heavy. My eyes fluttered open, and for a moment, I wished they hadn’t.

Darkness stretched around me, thick and suffocating. The air smelled of damp stone, burnt herbs, and something foul—rotting magic. Candles flickered in sconces along the rough cavern walls, their dim glow casting jagged shadows that seemed to move.

A coven.

A cold chill crept down my spine as I forced myself upright, my wrists aching from the iron chains binding me. My wolf stirred, restless but weak, dulled by whatever spell they had laced through the air.

I wasn’t alone.

A woman stood at the edge of the room, cloaked in deep crimson, her silver hair cascading down her back in waves. Eyes black as midnight met mine, glittering with eerie amusement.

“The Moon’s chosen awakens,” she murmured, her voice rich with something ancient, something wrong.

I bared my teeth. “Who the fuck are you?”

She smiled. “You may call me Mother Morgaine.”

She steps into the dim light, her crimson robes sweeping the ground, silver eyes gleaming with secrets. The Mother of Witches.

My pulse hammered against my ribs. The leader of the Bloodmoon Path.

A witch of nightmares.

She stepped closer, the heavy fabric of her cloak whispering against the floor. “You have no idea how important you are, do you, child?”

I clenched my jaw. “I know I’m important enough for you to steal me like a coward.”

She chuckled. “Fierce little thing. You’ll need that fire when you realize what’s coming.”

A rustle of movement came from behind her. More witches. Hooded figures shifting in the shadows, their whispers slithering through the cavern like snakes.

Morgaine tilted her head. “Do you know why we took you, Eve Montrose?”

I held her gaze. “Because you’re afraid.”

Her lips curved. “Yes.”

For a fraction of a second, I faltered. I had expected a lie, a taunt—but not the truth.

“You are the last of the First Wolves’ bloodline,” she continued. “And your children—” Her voice dropped to something like reverence. “They will be the death of dark magic.”

A sharp, ringing silence filled the space between us.

I shook my head. “That’s bullshit.”

Morgaine’s smile deepened. “Is it?” She lifted a hand, and a ripple of cold air rushed through the cavern. A dark, curling mist slithered across the ground, forming strange, twisting symbols around my feet.

A prophecy.

I felt it before I heard it—magic thickening the air, pressing against my bones.

Then the words came, spoken in a voice that was not her own.

“From the blood of the First Wolves shall rise the end of darkness.”

“Born of moon and war, their heirs will sever the cursed bond of magic itself.”

“The witches’ reign shall fall, by the hands of what they fear most—”

“A child of the blood, bound to two.”

Cold rushed through me, my heart slamming against my ribs.

Bound to two.

Gavriel and Caelum.

I shook my head, struggling against the chains. “You’re insane.”

“Am I?” Morgaine’s gaze sharpened. “You feel the truth of it, don’t you?”

I did. And that terrified me more than anything else.

She leaned in, her breath brushing my cheek. “We cannot allow it to happen.”

My body went rigid.

“You won’t win,” I hissed.

Her fingers ghosted along my cheek, mockingly gentle. “That depends.” She straightened. “You see, we cannot kill you. Not yet. Not until we have the blood of the two who have bound themselves to you.”

The world tilted.

No. No, no, no.

Morgaine smiled at my horror. “You would not wish any harm upon your mates, would you?”

Ice filled my veins.

Caelum. Gavriel.

I thrashed against the chains, my vision blurring with rage. “I’ll fucking kill you before you touch them.”

Her expression didn’t change. “I wonder… who will come for you first?”

A small smile. “Oh, child, you don’t know yet…But you are the missing piece—the answer we sought for generations.”

She kneels before me, brushing her fingertips along my jaw. I flinch, but her grip is like iron. “We tried to break the prophecy once,” she murmurs. “We thought killing Selene would be enough. That without her, the union of the three would never be complete. We were wrong.”

I tense. “What are you talking about?”

Her smile widens, cruel and knowing. “The prophecy was never just about Selene and Caelum. There were always meant to be two pairs, two bloodlines. Selene and Caelum. You and Gavriel.”

A chill spreads through me. “You’re lying.”

She shakes her head. “Do you know we couldn’t kill the child we stole, because fucking Beta Darius found him that night? The one we took from the battlefield before he ever knew who he was?”

My blood turns to ice.

“No…” I whisper.

Morgaine leans in, her breath cold against my skin.

“Gavriel is Selene’s blood. Her true kin. The same lineage, the same power. He was meant to bond with you, as Caelum was meant to bond with Selene. But we stole him away. Hid him in plain sight. And yet, despite our interference, fate still found its way.”

I can’t breathe. Gavriel is—he’s one of the First Wolves, the Cerynth bloodline. He was always meant to be.

“And now,” Morgaine continues, “you have done what we never foresaw. You carry both their bonds. One by choice and one by fate. You are the bridge—the one who can bring the three bloodlines together in a single heir. The true heir. The end of dark magic.”

“No,” I whisper. “No, that’s not possible—”

“It is,” she hisses. “And that is why we need their blood. Their lives. Without them, the prophecy cannot be fulfilled. Without them, your blood means nothing.”

A dagger of fear plunges into my chest.

They don’t want just me. They need Gavriel and Caelum.

And they need them dead.

Then she turned, disappearing into the shadows, leaving me alone in the dark.

The weight of Morgaine’s words presses down on me like a storm cloud, suffocating every breath I take. The truth lingers in my chest, gnawing at me, and I can’t shake the image of Gavriel—my mate, my blood—the one I never knew was bound by the same prophecy.

But I can’t let it break me. I won’t.

They’ve taken me, but they can’t keep me. Not for long.

Caelum and Gavriel will come for me. I know them—they won’t stop. They’ll burn the world down to find me, and the witches are too blind to see it. The moment they laid their hands on me, they set the trap that will be their undoing.

I can’t let fear take over. I’ve learned too much from the men who care for me, the ones who raised me to be strong, to never back down. Caelum, with his strength and sharp edges. Gavriel, with his calm precision.

They’ll come.

And when they do, I need to be ready.

I need to stop these witches before they can use me against them.

I clench my fists, the ropes cutting into my skin, but it’s nothing compared to the anger burning in my veins. I’m not going to sit here like a lamb waiting for slaughter. They think they’ve outsmarted me by taking me, but they’ve made a mistake. I’ve seen enough to know what’s coming.

Morgaine’s words still echo in my mind—about how my blood will be the end of dark magic. About how the witches need Gavriel and Caelum to fulfill the prophecy.

They think they can break the bond between us. But they don’t know us.

They think I’ll crumble under pressure. But I won’t.

They are underestimating me.

I don’t know how much time I have. But I know one thing for sure—I’m not going to wait for them to come and get me. I’ll make my own escape. I’ll find a way to strike first.

I may be trapped in this dark coven, but I still have my wits, and they won’t see it coming. I know how these witches think. Their arrogance blinds them to the smallest details. They believe they control the game. But they don’t know how well I’ve learned to play.

I start to piece together a plan in my mind, shifting the pieces like a chessboard in my thoughts.

Step one: Find a way to hide my connection to Gavriel and Caelum. They’re going to use our bond, but they can’t know just how deep it runs. They’ll try to use our shared blood against us, but I’ll find a way to mask it, to twist it, make them think it’s something it’s not.

Step two: Turn the witches’ own magic against them. I’ve seen enough of their rituals to know their weaknesses. They rely too much on their own power. If I can weaken the spells around me, maybe I can get free.

Step three: Wait for Caelum and Gavriel. They will come. They always do.

I feel a flash of something—fear, but also a deep, bone-deep certainty. I can’t allow myself to be a pawn. I can’t let them take my future—my future with them.

They will come.

But when they do, I’ll be ready.

Chapter 46

POV: Gavriel

Caelum and I always fought well together. Even when we were young, we trained as if we were made to complement each other—his brute strength and raw aggression, my precision and control. We were never just warriors. We were weapons, forged side by side.

Then we became enemies.

And now, as we hunt for Eve, we’re partners again.

The transition was seamless, like muscle memory kicking in. The moment we realized the witches had taken her, something shifted between us. The rivalry that once burned between us has been swallowed by something far more primal—rage.

And tonight, we’ll use it to set our trap.

We’ve spread the rumor carefully. Silver artifacts of immense power, stolen from an ancient witch coven, now in the possession of a reckless merchant desperate for coin. It’s bait, and we know the witches won’t be able to resist.

Caelum and I sit in the shadows of the meeting point, hidden in the ruins of an old temple at the edge of our territory. The air is thick with the scent of damp stone and the metallic tang of silver dust scattered across the floor.

Caelum shifts beside me, tense. “They’re late.”

“They’re careful.” My voice is calm, but inside, I’m wound just as tightly as he is. “They know we’re hunting them as much as they’re hunting us.”

A pause. Then, quieter, “You trust this plan?”

I turn my head slightly, meeting his gaze in the darkness. “You trust me?”

Another pause. Then, begrudgingly, “I always have.”

Something in my chest tightens. There was a time when that was true, before Eve, before everything.

Before I could respond, movement.

A figure emerges from the trees—cloaked, careful. The witch.

Caelum’s fingers twitch. He wants to lunge, but he holds back, waiting for my signal.

Patience. We can’t lose her before she leads us to Eve.

She steps cautiously into the ruins, scanning the area. Then, from beneath her cloak, she pulls a vial—glowing faintly blue. A truth serum. She won’t do business without knowing if the merchant is lying.

Smart. But not smart enough.

I nod once to Caelum.

He moves first, fast as a shadow. By the time the witch senses the trap, it’s too late. Caelum slams into her, knocking the vial from her hand. It shatters against the stone, the liquid hissing into the air.

She screams, twisting, trying to cast. But I’m already there, a blade against her throat. “No spells.”

She freezes, chest rising and falling rapidly, eyes darting between us. “You don’t understand what you’re doing—”

Caelum’s grip tightens on her arms. “You took something from us.” His voice is dangerously low. “Now you’ll give her back.”

She laughs, but it’s forced. “And if I don’t?”

Caelum leans in, his voice a growl. “Then you die screaming.”

I watch her closely. She’s scared, but she’s also calculating. She thinks she still has an escape.

She doesn’t.

“You have one chance,” I say coldly. “Tell us where Eve is.”

Her lips part—to lie, to cast, to do something desperate.

I press the blade deeper. “And I’ll consider letting you live.”

The witch hung in chains, her wrists bruised and raw, iron shackles burning into her skin. The air was thick with the scent of damp stone, blood, and burnt sage—the remnants of Kazzar’s spells keeping her magic at bay.

Caelum paced like a storm about to break, his rage a living thing, simmering just beneath his skin. I felt it too—anger, frustration, fear—but I held mine tighter. Let him be the fire. I would be the steel.

“Speak,” he ordered, voice sharp as a blade.

The witch coughed out a laugh, dark and brittle. “You think this changes anything?” Her lips curled, eyes flicking between us. “You’re chasing ghosts.”

My patience was a thread away from snapping. I stepped forward, fists clenched. “Where is she?” My voice was hoarse, raw with everything I refused to feel.

The witch tilted her head. “She is where she was always meant to be. With us. The last daughter of the First Wolves.”

Caelum’s growl rumbled beside me. “You don’t get to speak of her as if she belongs to you.”

The witch’s lips stretched into a slow, knowing smirk. “And yet… she does. You feel it, don’t you? Fate weaving its noose around you. The prophecy cannot be undone.”

A cold sliver of unease ran through me. My instincts screamed that there was something more here—something just out of reach.

“What prophecy?” I demanded.

The witch exhaled, something like satisfaction flickering across her face. “The prophecy of the First Wolves. The merging of the bloodlines.”

The room felt smaller, the air heavier.

Something inside me went still.

The bloodlines.

Her gaze settled on me then, something sharp and knowing in her expression. “You don’t know, do you?”

A slow, terrible chill crept up my spine.

“You were stolen, little wolf,” she whispered. “Taken from your true family before you could even crawl.”

Lies. They had to be lies.

“I was an orphan,” I said, forcing my voice to stay steady. “I was found—”

“Yes,” she cut in smoothly. “You got found before we could kill you.” Her lips curled. “You were never meant to be an orphan. You were born of the Cerynth bloodline.”

The words punched through me.

The Cerynth bloodline.

Caelum stopped pacing. He went absolutely, deathly still.

My chest tightened, my pulse roaring in my ears.

Selene’s bloodline.

Caelum’s first mate. The one he lost. The one he mourned.

No. No.

The witches had taken me—me—from my true family. They had hidden me away, let me believe I was nothing. Let me believe I was just some orphan lucky enough to be raised by a Beta who had no heir of his own.

“You lie,” I bit out.

The witch only smiled.

“The prophecy was always meant for four,” she continued, voice soft, deadly. “Caelum and Selene. Eve and you. The heirs of the First Wolves.”

My breath came in short, sharp bursts.

“Then we killed Selene.”

The words landed like a knife between my ribs.

The witches had slaughtered her. Erased her. Thinking it would end the cycle. Thinking it would break the prophecy.

“But fate,” the witch mused, her head tilting, “fate has a way of finding loopholes, doesn’t it?”

Caelum hadn’t moved, but I could feel him beside me. A storm held tight, waiting to shatter.

Her gaze flicked between us. “Eve was bonded to two.”

The words wrapped around my throat like a noose.

The prophecy had shifted. Adapted. Changed to fit what the witches had broken.

Eve’s bloodline had bonded with both Caelum and me. The power of the First Wolves converging into one.

That was why they took her.

That was why they needed blood.

My hands shook.

Everything I thought I knew about myself, about who I was, was a lie.

I was never meant to be alone. I was never meant to have no past.

And all this time, Caelum—my Alpha, my rival, my brother—had unknowingly saved me again and again.

Because he had let me stay.

Because he had let me live.

Caelum finally spoke, his voice like a blade barely held back. “Where is she?”

The witch only smiled. “You will find her when fate decides you are ready.”

I stepped forward, grabbed her by the throat. “Where. Is. She?”

The witch choked, but she laughed. She laughed, eyes flickering with something that wasn’t fear.

It was satisfaction.

“Follow the blood,” she rasped. “It will lead you home.”

Chapter 47

POV: Caelum

The scent of old books and burnt herbs filled the chamber as Kazzar sifted through ancient tomes, muttering under his breath. The flickering candlelight cast deep shadows across his face, making his expression unreadable. Gavriel and I stood tense, watching his every move.

“We need a spell that can track her,” I said, voice tight. “You said to follow the blood. What kind of magic can do that?”

Kazzar flipped another brittle page. “Blood magic is delicate. It needs a direct tie to the person. A drop of Eve’s blood, fresh or preserved.”

Gavriel tensed beside me. “We don’t have that.”

Kazzar frowned, rubbing his jaw as he studied the map, the weight of his hesitation pressing thick in the air. “We need Eve’s blood,” he said. “Only hers. Anything else will corrupt the spell.”

Gavriel cursed under his breath. “We don’t have her blood.”

A cold, sickening realization settled in my chest. “Yes, we do.”

I reached into the wooden box from our wedding, my fingers brushing over the cold steel of the dagger. The same dagger that had sliced into my palm and Eve’s during the ceremony.

Her blood was still here.

Mixed with mine.

I pulled it out, the blade still faintly stained despite the time that had passed. Gavriel’s eyes locked onto it, jaw tightening as understanding dawned on him.

Kazzar’s gaze sharpened. “That could work,” he admitted. “But—” His eyes flicked up to mine, his expression unreadable. “The spell is meant to show only true mates. Those fated by the Moon. The mate bond is the purest form of magic.”

A sharp pain twisted in my chest, and for a second, I couldn’t breathe.

“I’m not her fated mate,” I forced out.

Kazzar’s expression darkened. “That’s the problem. If your blood interferes, the spell could fail—or worse, it could lead us astray.”

We didn’t have time for doubt.

I set the dagger on the table. “Do it.”

Kazzar hesitated. Gavriel’s gaze bore into me, unreadable, but he didn’t object.

With a sharp inhale, Kazzar moved, carving runes into the wooden surface. He mixed crushed herbs with his own blood, adding a few drops from the dagger—the remnants of Eve’s blood, tainted with mine.

The air grew heavy, crackling with unseen energy. Shadows curled at the edges of the room. My pulse pounded in my ears as Kazzar whispered the final words of the incantation.

The spell ignited.

The map beneath us glowed, ancient symbols burning into the parchment.

Then—three lights flared to life.

One where Eve was.

One where Gavriel stood.

One where I stood.

A silence heavier than stone crashed over the room.

Gavriel inhaled sharply. “That’s not possible.”

Kazzar’s fingers hovered over the map, his face pale. “It only shows fated mates.”

The words struck like a blade, sinking deep.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak.

The Moon had marked me as hers.

Me.

My breath hitched. My pulse roared in my ears, drowning everything else. I felt Gavriel’s gaze burning into me, waiting for my reaction, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from the glowing marks.

The truth had been carved into fate itself.

She wasn’t just his.

She was mine, too.

I gripped the edge of the table, forcing myself to breathe. This wasn’t the time to lose control. Eve was still out there. We had a war to fight.

But nothing would ever be the same again.

Kazzar exhaled slowly, eyes still on the glowing marks on the map. His lips curled in something close to amusement. “The Moon always finds a way.”

His voice held certainty, a knowing edge that made my skin crawl.

“What does that mean?” Gavriel’s voice was hoarse, like he barely trusted himself to speak.

Kazzar looked up. “The prophecy needed the three families united. Selene’s death should have broken that possibility. But the Moon does not abandon her plans. She made another way.” He flicked his gaze toward me. “She made you Eve’s mate, too.”

A sharp weight pressed on my chest.

I tore my eyes from the map and clenched my fists, grounding myself in the cold air of the chamber. “That doesn’t matter right now.”

Gavriel scoffed, crossing his arms. “It matters.”

I glared at him, and for a second, the old tension between us flared. We had fought, resented each other, hated the fact that we were bound to the same woman. But right now, we were on the same side. The only thing that mattered was getting her back.

I inhaled deeply. “We know where she is now. We need to move.”

“We need to talk first,” Gavriel said.

My jaw tightened. “Now?”

Gavriel took a step forward, lowering his voice. “If the Moon wants us to work together, really work together, then we need to figure this out.”

I let out a slow breath, my anger curling in my gut like a barely tamed beast. “Figure what out?”

He gave me a look, then glanced down at the map, where the three glowing marks still burned against the paper. “You know exactly what.”

My chest felt tight.

I had spent so long trying to keep her. Trying to fight fate. Trying to push Gavriel away because I thought that was the only way I could have her. Now the universe was laughing in my face.

I remembered the moment I told Eve to reject me.

I had given her the chance to walk away. To break the bond. To be with him.

And she refused.

Because she didn’t want to choose.

She shouldn’t have to.

“So,” I muttered, voice low, “you’re suggesting that we both mate her?” I met Gavriel’s gaze. “We both be with her?”

He didn’t flinch. “Can you see a world where you give her up?”

The words hit deep.

I knew my answer.

Gavriel sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. “Because I can’t.”

Neither of us spoke for a long moment.

Finally, I swallowed hard. “If we get her back—”

“When,” Gavriel corrected, voice hard.

I nodded. “When we get her back… We make this work.”

Gavriel held my gaze. “Agreed.”

It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t normal. But none of this ever was. The Moon had made her choice. And so had we.

Now, we were going to get her back.

No matter the cost.

Chapter 48

POV: Gavriel

My breath was steady, but my pulse was a war drum my hears. The plan was in motion. The witches’ coven lay ahead, hidden deep in the ruins of an old fortress. The air was thick with the scent of magic—sharp, metallic, and wrong. I tightened my grip on my sword, glancing at Caelum, who stood beside me, gaze fixed ahead, every muscle taut like a coiled predator.

“We do this fast and quiet,” I murmured, my mind already mapping out the attack. “Surprise is our best weapon.”

Caelum gave a short nod but didn’t respond. I knew he was barely keeping his emotions in check. We both were. Eve was inside. Hurt. Maybe worse. The thought sent a fresh wave of rage crashing through me, but I forced myself to focus.

Kazzar was with us, leading the wizards that had sworn our allegiance. Our weapons were magic-forged, spelled to break through the witches’ defenses. It was our only chance.

We had studied the witches’ patterns, learned the layout as best we could. The plan was set—Caelum would take the eastern side, where the guards were fewer but the magical defenses stronger. I would lead our warriors through the main entrance, drawing attention, creating chaos. A distraction, so Caelum could get to Eve.

Kazzar placed a hand on the hilt of his staff, murmuring an incantation. “The spells are ready. The witches won’t see us coming—at least, not until it’s too late.”

The signal came. The first wave of wolves moved, striking fast. Magic ignited in the night, flames erupting from the hands of witches as the battlefield roared to life.

I surged forward, my blade finding its mark in the first opponent. A witch shrieked, her spell fizzling as she fell. Another lunged at me, but I was faster, twisting and driving my dagger into her throat.

To my right, Caelum was a force of nature, moving through the fray with lethal precision, claws and steel tearing through anything in his way.

We were winning.

Until we weren’t.

A sudden explosion rocked the ground beneath me, sending me sprawling. My ears rang, vision blurring. Through the smoke, I saw Caelum struggling to rise, blood dripping from a gash along his temple.

The witches had been waiting.

A trap.

Dark figures emerged, their leader stepping forward, a twisted smile on her face. “You really thought you could take her back?” Her voice slithered through the chaos. “She belongs to us now.”

My heart slammed against my ribs as I pushed to my feet. “Like hell she does.”

But then I saw her.

Eve.

She was standing in the center of the ruins, held between two witches. Her face was pale, her green eyes burning with defiance despite the bruises marring her skin. Her blond hair was torn, tangled, streaked with dirt and dried blood. Magic crackled around her, restraining her, but she was still fighting, still fierce.

“They want your blood, don’t let them take it!” She screamed, her voice cracked and hoarse from the relentless battle. Her words were a plea, a warning, but also a defiant stand against the witches who sought to claim us.

Caelum let out a snarl, fury bleeding from every inch of him. He moved to charge, but the witches raised their hands, magic coiling like snakes, ready to strike.

I barely had time to react before a pulse of dark energy erupted from them. Pain lashed through me as I hit the ground hard. Caelum was down too, the magic pressing against us like a vice, holding us in place.

My vision blurred with rage. The spellcasters surrounding Eve tightened their hold, and for the first time, a flicker of pain crossed her face. It sent something primal tearing through him.

“Eve!” My voice was raw, desperate.

Her gaze snapped to me. And then, something in her shifted. Strength surged through her battered frame.

I saw it in Eve’s eyes before she even moved.

She was going to act.

A sharp breath caught in my throat as I watched her. Her green eyes, fierce despite the exhaustion lining them, locked onto her captors. Blood matted her golden hair, strands clinging to the side of her face where a gash still bled sluggishly. She looked like hell—but she looked like Eve. Unbreakable.

I knew that look. I knew that fire.

“No!” I roared, but it was too late.

She struck like lightning, ripping free of the witches’ hold. The moment of distraction was all she needed. In a blur of motion, she wrenched a dagger from one of their belts and drove it straight into the throat of the other. Blood sprayed as the witch choked, gurgling before crumpling to the ground. The magic holding her shattered.

For a heartbeat, the tide turned.

For a heartbeat, I thought we had her.

Then the world cracked apart.

A shockwave of power exploded from the witch leader’s outstretched hands, dark and furious. It hit like a thunderclap, sending me flying backward. My back slammed into the crumbling stone wall, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. My ears rang, the world spinning as dust and smoke swallowed everything.

I forced myself up, gasping. My body screamed in protest, but I didn’t care.

Where was Eve?

Panic drove me forward, stumbling, coughing, my vision blurred with blood and sweat. Shapes moved in the haze—Caelum, struggling to his feet, shaking his head. Warriors clashing. Witches shrieking. But none of it mattered.

Then I saw her.

Eve lay motionless, crumpled on the cold stone ground.

I stopped breathing.

Caelum reached her first, dropping to his knees so fast the stone cracked beneath him. His hands trembled as he pressed them against her chest, as if he could will her heart to beat again. His voice was raw, panicked. “No. No, no, no—stay with us.”

I dropped beside them, heart hammering against my ribs as I scanned her face, her lips slightly parted, skin too pale. My fingers found her wrist.

Her pulse was barely there.

No. No, this couldn’t be happening.

A spell had hit her. I’d seen it too late—seen the moment the witch’s magic coiled around her, sinking into her skin like venom. My stomach twisted violently.

The spell wasn’t just meant for her.

It was meant for all three of us.

My breath was ragged, my hands tightening into fists. “She—she’s still alive, but just barely.”

Caelum’s face was a mask of fury and fear. “Then we save her.”

The witches had planned this. They wanted our blood. All of it. They wanted to end the prophecy before it could truly begin.

But they hadn’t won yet.

I met Caelum’s gaze, the unspoken truth passing between us like a promise.

Losing her was not an option.

The battlefield still crackled with the remnants of dark magic, but I couldn’t focus on it. My pulse thundered as I held Eve against me, her shallow breaths the only thing anchoring me to sanity. Caelum was beside us, his jaw tight, his hands gripping her as if he could force her to stay with us by sheer will alone.

Then he looked at me.

A single glance, but I understood.

Kazzar’s voice rang in my head. The mate bond is the purest form of magic.

Caelum exhaled sharply, nodding once before he rose. He turned to Kazzar, then to the battlefield where the mother witch still stood, rallying her forces despite the growing desperation in her eyes. The witches were faltering, some already fleeing into the trees.

But she wouldn’t.

Caelum’s expression hardened. Without another word, he turned, Kazzar at his side, moving like a shadow. I knew what he was doing—what he had to do. The mother witch was the source. Kill her, and the rest would scatter.

Which left me with only one task.

I looked down at Eve, my fingers brushing her sweat-dampened hair from her face. Her golden strands were tangled, matted with blood, her usually fierce green eyes closed, her lashes dark against her too-pale cheeks.

She wasn’t gone.

She couldn’t be.

A sharp, ragged breath tore from my lungs as I cradled her closer, lowering my head to her throat at the oposite side of Caelum’s, where my mark should have been—where it would be.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered, voice raw. “I can’t lose you. I won’t.”

Then I struck.

My teeth sank into the soft flesh of her neck, the bond snapping into place with an intensity that nearly shattered me. Fire surged through me, through her. The mate bond ignited like a lightning strike, raw and ancient, a magic deeper than anything the witches could ever wield.

Eve’s body arched violently against me, a sound catching in her throat. For one agonizing moment, nothing happened. Then—

A gasp.

Her body convulsed, and suddenly, her hands clutched at me, fingernails digging into my arms as she breathed.

Relief slammed into me so hard I almost collapsed. “Eve,” I choked out, pulling back to see her eyes flutter open—dazed but alive.

A scream shattered the air.

I twisted in time to see Caelum drive his blade through the mother witch’s chest, dark magic splintering like glass around them. Her mouth opened in a silent wail before her body crumbled to ash.

The battlefield fell silent.

The remaining witches, those who hadn’t already fled, turned and ran, their leader gone, their power severed. Kazzar stood over the remains, breathing hard, his hands still glowing with magic, but the fight was over.

Caelum barely took a breath before he turned, his gaze locking onto us.

I barely had time to brace myself before he was there, falling to his knees beside Eve, his hands gripping hers, his forehead pressing against her temple. His breath was ragged, his shoulders trembling as he exhaled against her skin.

I tightened my grip on her, and without thinking, Caelum and I shifted closer, closing the space between us. Between the three of us.

A bond forged in war. In fate. In something greater than we could ever understand.

Eve was alive.

And we weren’t letting her go.

Chapter 49

POV: Eve

I woke to warmth. Solid and steady, wrapped around me like a shield against the chaos we had endured. The scent of pine, steel, and something distinctly Gavriel filled my senses before I even opened my eyes. His arm was draped around me, holding me as if he feared I would slip away again.

I inhaled, my body aching, my mind still heavy with exhaustion. But I was alive.

A shuddering breath escaped me as memories crashed back—the battle, the witches, the mother’s final spell, and then… darkness. The last thing I remembered was Gavriel’s voice, raw and desperate, calling me back. His bite. His mark.

My fingers trembled as I reached up, touching the sensitive skin of my neck. The bond thrummed beneath my fingertips, alive and unbreakable.

I turned my head slightly, my cheek brushing against Gavriel’s bare chest. He was awake, watching me, his green eyes darker than usual, as if he were still caught in the storm of what had happened.

“Eve.” His voice was a whisper, rough with emotion.

Before I could respond, a second presence stirred. A familiar warmth, another anchor to reality.

Caelum.

I shifted, my heart lurching as I saw him crouched beside the bed, his usually sharp, cold eyes softened with something raw. His hand reached for mine before stopping short, as if he didn’t trust himself to touch me, afraid I’d slip through his fingers like a ghost.

But I wasn’t a ghost. I was here. With them.

A lump formed in my throat. “We won?”

Caelum exhaled sharply, nodding. “The mother witch is dead. Some escaped, but they won’t recover from this. Not for a long time.”

Relief washed over me, but it was swallowed by something deeper, something I had barely allowed myself to hope for.

They were both here. Together.

And they weren’t letting go.

Gavriel’s grip tightened around me, as if he sensed my thoughts. “You scared the hell out of us.”

I swallowed hard, searching their faces, trying to understand the shift in them. In everything. “And you saved me.”

Caelum’s gaze flickered to Gavriel’s mark on my skin, then back to my eyes. A storm raged behind his expression, but for once, it wasn’t anger or resentment. It was understanding. Resolution.

“We both did,” he murmured.

The words settled between us, final and true.

My breath hitched. “You—” I hesitated, afraid to give the thought voice. “You’re both staying?”

Gavriel’s fingers traced slow circles against my skin, grounding me. “We’re not leaving you again, Eve.”

Caelum’s hand finally closed over mine, rough and warm. “Never.”

Tears blurred my vision. After everything—after the battles, the betrayals, the war—I was theirs. They were mine.

And the Moon had chosen us all.

I exhaled shakily, letting myself sink into them, into this moment, into the future we had fought for.

The bonfires burned bright against the night sky, their golden glow illuminating the faces of my pack—our pack. Laughter and howls of victory filled the air, echoing off the stone walls of the stronghold. The scent of roasted meat and spiced wine mixed with the crisp scent of the forest, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I could breathe.

I was alive.

The pack had welcomed me back with cheers and celebration, their relief as tangible as the heat from the fire. They had lost so much, but tonight, they had won. We had won. I stood at the heart of it all, wrapped in a cloak to ward off the evening chill, but the real warmth came from the two men standing beside me.

Caelum and Gavriel.

Their presence anchored me, their eyes never straying far from mine. The battle was over, but the war inside my heart had only just settled. The people who had once doubted me, who had questioned my place, now stood united, accepting not just me but the bond that connected the three of us.

Caelum had made sure of it. When some had hesitated, unsure of what this new dynamic meant, he had silenced them with a single look. “She is ours. We are hers. If you cannot accept that, you do not belong in this pack.”

No one had dared to challenge him.

I turned to face them, my hands finding theirs, lacing my fingers with Gavriel’s while my other hand rested against Caelum’s chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat was a reassuring rhythm against my palm.

“You’re staring, little wolf,” Caelum murmured, amusement threading through his voice. “Lost in thought?”

I nodded, swallowing past the lump of emotion lodged in my throat. “I almost lost you both.”

Gavriel tightened his grip on my hand. “And we almost lost you. Never again, Eve. We won’t let you go.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, not from fear, but from the raw intensity behind them. I knew he meant them. They both did.

Caelum’s hand came up to cup my jaw, his thumb tracing my lower lip. “You’re ours, Eve.” His voice was rough, edged with something dark and possessive, but it was tempered with something softer. Something I had longed for.

Love.

I exhaled, leaning into his touch before shifting my gaze to Gavriel. He watched me with the same intensity, his hazel eyes dark with emotions he didn’t need to voice. Instead, he pulled me forward, capturing my lips in a kiss that stole my breath and sent fire licking through my veins.

Caelum didn’t wait, his lips brushing against my throat, his hands gripping my waist as if he needed to feel every inch of me to believe I was real. The world around us blurred as I was caught between them, between the heat of their bodies, the unyielding strength of their love.

The pack had accepted us. The war was over.

I wasn’t just Eve Montrose, the marked queen.

I was home.

And I was theirs.

The celebration was in full swing, the air thick with laughter, firelight flickering against the walls as the pack reveled in our victory. My victory. My survival.

Caelum had orchestrated it, a night of joy and feasting in my honor, and yet, all I could focus on was the weight of two gazes that had never left me. Caelum. Gavriel. My mates.

I still wasn’t sure how this would work—how a woman meant to choose between two could instead claim them both. But the pack had accepted it, just as they had accepted me. Perhaps it was the war, the bloodshed, the near-loss that had shifted their minds. Or perhaps they saw what I felt—that I could not live without either of them.

The moment Caelum leaned in, his breath a whisper against my ear as he murmured, I still miss you, I knew where the night would lead. My pulse stuttered, my body already aching before Gavriel even chuckled and pressed a goblet of wine into my hands, his lips brushing my knuckles.

“Eat, little wolf,” he said. “You’ll need your strength.”

Heat coiled deep in my belly. Gods, I wanted them both so much.

As the night stretched on, the unspoken words thickened between us like a storm about to break. Then, as if some silent signal had been passed between them, Caelum met Gavriel’s eyes, and then they both turned to me.

“You must be tired,” Caelum said, his voice deceptively soft. “Would you like to go upstairs?”

A shiver ran down my spine. My heart pounded against my ribs. I knew what he was asking.

I swallowed, then nodded.

The moment we stepped into our chambers, uncertainty twisted in my chest. I wanted this—wanted them—but how did we even begin?

Caelum, ever the one to take control, strode to his dresser, pulling open a drawer. My breath caught when I saw what he retrieved. A dagger. But not just any dagger—the same one he had used to carve my mark, binding me to him with blood and magic.

He turned to Gavriel, his expression unreadable. “Take off your tunic.”

Gavriel hesitated, but then he obeyed. The firelight cast shadows over the ridges of his muscles, the mark of our pack still etched onto his skin. Caelum stepped forward, pressing the tip of the dagger to that mark, and I realized what he was doing.

With slow, deliberate strokes, he transformed it, deepening the lines, reshaping the symbol. Gavriel didn’t flinch, his gaze locked onto Caelum’s.

Minutes passed, the only sound the scrape of the blade and the low crackle of the fire. When it was done, the mark was no longer just the pack, but one that mirrored ours—the mark of the First Wolves. A mark that bound him not just to me, but to us.

Caelum set the dagger down.

“Now, we are three bonded together. By love, by fate, by the moon, and by blood.”

For a long moment, they simply looked at each other. Then Caelum extended his hand. Gavriel took it.

Not just a handshake. A brotherhood. A vow. A silent acceptance of what we were—what we had become. My throat tightened, my heart swelling as I watched them embrace.

When they pulled away, their gazes returned to me.

Caelum stepped closer, his fingers tilting my chin up. “Now it’s your turn, my little wolf.”

Then they reached for me.

Caelum’s lips crashed against mine, claiming, devouring. Gavriel’s mouth found my mark, pressing a reverent kiss to my skin. A gasp slipped from me, swallowed by Caelum’s kiss.

I was overwhelmed, drowning in them—two sets of hands exploring, mapping, learning. Caelum tilted my head, deepening the kiss as Gavriel’s fingers brushed the straps of my dress, sliding them down inch by inch.

Soft touches. Rough hands. Their warmth consuming me, unmaking me.

They kissed my neck, one on each side, their marks on me searing hot. My body trembled as Gavriel peeled away my dress, his fingers ghosting over every newly bared inch of skin. Caelum’s hands joined his, and together, they left me standing in nothing but lace.

They stepped back, drinking me in. I had never felt more vulnerable. More powerful.

Caelum was the first to move, lifting me into his arms and laying me onto the bed. His lips found mine again, demanding and desperate, while Gavriel’s hand traced over my stomach, lower, teasing.

Then, together, they began to worship me.

Caelum’s mouth traveled lower, trailing fire down my body until his lips found my breast, his tongue flicking over my hardened nipple. At the same time, Gavriel’s fingers dipped between my thighs, circling, teasing, tormenting.

I arched, a broken moan escaping me as pleasure crashed over me in waves.

Caelum moved lower still, his lips replacing Gavriel’s fingers, his tongue pressing against my clit. My legs trembled as he held me open, his mouth working magic on me.

Gavriel took his place at my breast, his mouth hot, his teeth grazing, his hand rolling my other nipple between his fingers.

My body burned, overwhelmed, every nerve ending singing as they touched me, worshipped me. It was too much. Not enough. A storm building, a fever consuming.

And this was only the beginning.

Chapter 50

POV: Eve

I knew my body wouldn’t last long under their worship. The pleasure built inside me like waves crashing against the shore, relentless and consuming. Caelum’s tongue moved in slow, torturous circles over my clit, teasing and savoring, while Gavriel’s mouth closed around my nipple, his hands kneading my breasts, pinching, teasing.

I shattered between them, my body convulsing in pleasure. But they didn’t stop. My breath barely returned before they switched—Gavriel moved between my legs, replacing Caelum, and Caelum kissed up my body, his lips brushing over my throat, my mark, my collarbone. My skin was already so sensitive that I gasped when Gavriel’s tongue touched me.

“My queen,” Caelum murmured against my ear, his voice thick with reverence and desire. “You were made to be worshiped.”

Gavriel groaned in agreement as he licked me, tasting my release as if it were his favorite sin. “And we will worship you, again and again, until you know exactly how much you belong to us.”

Their words made me tremble, a new wave of pleasure burning inside me. I knew what I needed. My canines descended, the primal urge undeniable. I hadn’t marked Gavriel yet. I turned, finding his bare neck, and without hesitation, I struck. My teeth sank into his neck, claiming him as mine, just as he had claimed me.

He let out a raw, guttural moan, his cock hard and straining as his body shuddered beneath my mark. The sound sent fire through my veins. I glanced down, seeing how ready he was for me, and my fingers traced over him before working his pants off. He helped me, tossing the fabric aside, and I shifted slightly to strip Caelum next. He let me, watching me with dark, heated eyes, his body tensed like a predator ready to pounce.

I was between them, my back to Caelum, my front to Gavriel, both of them kneeling on the bed, caging me in, surrounding me. It felt right. It felt like home.

I ran my tongue over my lips, gazing up at Gavriel as I wrapped my fingers around his cock, stroking him before taking him into my mouth. He sucked in a sharp breath, his fingers tangling in my hair, guiding me, groaning as I took him deeper, savoring every inch.

Behind me, I felt Caelum’s hands on my hips, steadying me. His fingers trailed lower, teasing my entrance, rubbing slow, agonizing circles over my clit.

“I want both of you,” I gasped, pulling back from Gavriel just enough to speak, my voice hoarse with need. “At the same time.”

Caelum stilled. Gavriel’s cock twitched in my hand.

“Are you sure?” Caelum’s voice was rough, edged with something dangerous.

I nodded, my eyes locking onto his. “Yes.”

The way they reacted sent another wave of arousal through me. Gavriel groaned as I took him back into my mouth, but now his hips rocked forward, the control slipping from his fingers. Caelum positioned himself behind me, his tip pressing against my entrance. He pushed in slowly, stretching me, filling me, making me feel every inch of him.

I moaned around Gavriel, pushing my hips back to take more of Caelum, craving him deeper.

“Fuck,” Gavriel growled, his fingers tightening in my hair. “She’s perfect.”

Caelum grunted behind me, his grip tightening on my hips. “Our perfect queen.”

He started moving, thrusting into me from behind, slow and deep, his hand slipping between my legs to tease my clit again. The sensations were too much—Gavriel’s cock in my mouth, Caelum stretching me from behind, their hands on me, inside me, possessing me. My body was burning, unraveling, desperate for release.

Caelum came first, his thrusts growing erratic before he spilled inside me, groaning my name like a prayer. I followed, pleasure tearing through me, my body trembling as I moaned around Gavriel. The vibrations sent him over the edge, his release hitting my tongue as I swallowed him down, taking everything he gave me.

We collapsed onto the bed, tangled in each other, breathless, bodies still thrumming with pleasure.

Gavriel chuckled, running a hand down my side. “That was only the beginning.”

Caelum smirked, brushing damp hair from my face. “Are you ready for more, my little wolf?”

I smiled, my body already aching for them again. “Always.”

A month later…

The first thing I felt when I stirred awake was warmth.

Not just the heat of the sun slipping through the curtains, but the warmth of their bodies wrapped around mine. Strong arms, steady breaths, the comforting weight of their legs tangled with mine. I was caged in between them, skin to skin, and I never wanted to leave.

I stretched lazily, sighing in contentment as I nuzzled into the crook of Gavriel’s neck. He smelled like cedar and smoke, his scent calming and familiar. Behind me, Caelum’s arm tightened around my waist, pulling me closer until my back was flush against his chest.

“Good morning, my queen,” Caelum murmured, his voice rough with sleep. His lips brushed my shoulder, trailing down to the mark on my neck, the possessiveness in his touch making me shiver.

Gavriel hummed, still half-asleep, but I felt his lips press against my forehead. “Morning, little wolf.” His hand traced slow circles on my hip, fingers featherlight, teasing.

I sighed, smiling, completely surrounded by them. “I could get used to waking up like this.”

Caelum chuckled behind me, his fingers moving over my stomach, lower, teasing the space between my thighs. “You already have,” he said, his tone smug. “You sleep naked with us every night now.”

I smirked against Gavriel’s skin. “You love it.”

Gavriel groaned, his fingers tightening on my hip. “Damn right, we do.”

Caelum’s lips were on my neck again, his teeth scraping over my mark just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “And you love that we love it.”

I did.

I loved waking up in their arms. I loved the way they touched me, the way they knew exactly how to make me melt. It felt so natural now—this thing between us, the way we moved together, the way we craved each other even after we’d had each other a hundred times.

I shifted slightly, and that was all it took.

Gavriel let out a low curse, his hand slipping down between my legs, finding me already wet for them. “Fuck,” he groaned, pressing his forehead against mine. “You’re always ready for us.”

Caelum’s chuckle was dark, his grip on my waist tightening. “That’s because she’s insatiable.”

I gasped when Gavriel’s fingers slid inside me, slow and teasing, while Caelum’s hand wrapped around my throat, tilting my head back so he could kiss me deeply.

“I think our queen needs to be reminded of just how much we adore her,” Caelum murmured against my lips.

Gavriel smirked, his fingers curling inside me, making me whimper. “Then let’s worship her properly.”

I was already lost in them, already aching, already desperate.

And they were more than happy to give me exactly what I needed.

Gavriel’s tongue replaced his fingers, dragging slowly over my clit before circling back, teasing me, worshipping me. His hands held my thighs apart, pinning me to the bed as he worked me open with his mouth, his tongue tracing lazy circles that made me tremble.

I was already aching for them, already so wet, so desperate, and they knew it.

A deep, knowing chuckle rumbled from Caelum. “Look at you,” he murmured, his fingers brushing my lips. “Always so perfect for us.”

I moaned, my hand reaching for him, curling around the thick length of his cock. He was already hard, ready for me, and I didn’t even have to say a word—he knew exactly what I wanted.

He hissed when I took him into my mouth, turning slightly to the side to angle myself, sucking him deep while Gavriel continued his slow, torturous teasing between my thighs.

“Fuck, just like that, my queen,” Caelum groaned, his hand tangling in my hair, guiding my movements.

Gavriel hummed against me, his tongue stroking in time with my movements on Caelum. “You taste even sweeter in the morning,” he murmured, and the vibrations sent another wave of pleasure rolling through me.

I gasped around Caelum, my body arching, and Gavriel took the moment to slide a finger inside me again, curling it just right.

“She’s always so fucking tight,” Gavriel rasped, voice thick with hunger. “So ready for us.”

I whimpered, my hips moving against his hand, needing more. I wasn’t just ready—I was desperate.

I reached blindly for Gavriel, wrapping my fingers around his cock, guiding him to where I needed him most.

“Now,” I whispered, breathless against Caelum’s length.

Gavriel groaned low in his throat as he pushed inside me, filling me in one slow, aching thrust. I moaned, my body stretching to take him, and Caelum growled at the sight, his grip tightening in my hair.

“Fucking perfect,” Gavriel gritted out, his hands digging into my hips as he started moving.

I moaned around Caelum’s cock, my body caught between them, pleasure building fast.

“You love this, don’t you, my queen?” Caelum murmured, brushing a thumb over my cheek as I took him deeper.

I moaned in response, the sound vibrating against him, and he groaned, his hips twitching.

Gavriel’s pace quickened, his hand slipping down between us, fingers finding my clit again, rubbing slow, agonizing circles that sent sparks through my veins. “Come for us, Eve,” he rasped. “Come while we worship you.”

I shattered between them, pleasure crashing over me in waves, my body convulsing as I came hard, gasping around Caelum.

Caelum groaned, his grip tightening as he spilled into my mouth, his breathing ragged, his praise slipping from his lips. “So fucking beautiful,” he murmured, stroking my cheek as I swallowed every drop.

Gavriel wasn’t far behind—his hips stuttered, his grip bruising as he came inside me, groaning my name like a prayer.

His fingers never stopped moving, drawing out every last aftershock until I was trembling between them, utterly spent, utterly worshipped.

I collapsed against Gavriel’s chest, breathless, sated, tangled up in them. Caelum wrapped himself around me from behind, pressing lazy kisses along my shoulder.

“If this isn’t the best way to wake up in the morning,” I murmured, eyes fluttering shut, “I don’t know what is.”

Caelum chuckled, stroking a hand down my side. “Then we’ll just have to make sure every morning is exactly like this.”

Gavriel smirked against my forehead. “Insatiable, the both of you.”

I grinned. “You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

They both laughed, and I knew, deep in my soul, that I was exactly where I was meant to be.

The newly expanded office was bathed in the soft golden light of the afternoon sun, the high windows open to let in the fresh air from the valley below. It was no longer just Caelum’s space. The large wooden desk had been lengthened, and now, three seats stood behind it—one for the Alpha, one for the Beta, and one for the Luna.

For the three of us.

Gavriel stood at the far end, reviewing the latest reports from the patrols, his keen gaze missing nothing. He had taken to the role of Beta with the same precision and discipline he’d always carried into battle. He was a warrior, a protector—born and bred to stand beside his Alpha. And now, beside me.

Caelum leaned against the desk, his arms crossed, watching me with quiet amusement as I tried to organize the endless parchments spread before me. Luna duties were more intricate than I’d anticipated, but I relished every moment of it.

We ruled together, as one.

The gentle knock at the door pulled my attention. When it swung open, an older man stepped inside, his muscular frame marked with years of labor. The blacksmith. His hands, scarred from his craft, cradled a wooden box lined with rich black velvet.

“My Queen. My Lords,” he greeted, bowing low.

I exchanged a glance with Caelum, who gave me a secretive smirk. Gavriel only chuckled.

“Come in, Varic,” Caelum said. “You have something for us?”

The blacksmith nodded, stepping forward and placing the box upon the desk. The weight of it made the wood groan slightly.

“I did as you requested, Alpha,” he said, then turned to me, his eyes filled with reverence. “And for you, my Queen.”

Something stirred in my chest at the title. My breath hitched as Caelum reached out and lifted the lid.

Inside, resting against the velvet, were three crowns.

The first was bold and commanding—Caelum’s. Made from dark silver, its shape was sharp and unyielding, with the crest of his lineage carved into its surface. The symbol of his family, of his strength. The mark of the Alpha. And craved Vaelorian, his First Wolves house.

The second was slightly smaller but no less powerful—Gavriel’s. Strong, steady, its design sleek and unbreakable. A warrior’s crown, carved with the insignia of the Beta, honoring the lineage he never knew he had. And the name of the House of the First Wolves he never thought he belonged to, Cerynth.

And then, the third.

Mine.

It was delicate yet strong, a perfect balance of power and beauty. Twisting silver formed into intricate vines, weaving between carefully carved wolf insignias. Small flowers, etched with stunning precision, bloomed along its surface—a nod to my origins, to the life I carried within me. And carved into the silver, at the very center, was my name.

Caelum lifted it carefully, turning it so I could see the inscription.

“Eve Montrose, Luna. The Marked Queen. Daughter of Elarion”

My vision blurred with emotion as he placed it upon my head, his fingers lingering in my hair. “This is who you are,” he murmured. “Our Queen.”

Gavriel reached for his own crown, settling it onto his head before stepping closer, his hand sliding into mine. “We built this together,” he said softly. “And we will rule together.”

Caelum placed his own crown upon his head before taking my free hand. “The three of us,” he said. “Bound by fate, by love, by war. And now, by choice.”

My heart pounded as I looked between them, at the men who had become my world.

This was it.

We weren’t just bonded. We weren’t just lovers.

We were rulers. We were a force.

And I was their Queen.

The Marked Queen.

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Thank you all for the reading. The process is better with your comments.

Book 2 is already here, check my profile for: The Cursed Mate, hope you like it ❤️