Updated Dec 14, 2025 • ~8 min read
CASS
I attacked him at midnight.
Stupid. Reckless. But I couldn’t stand it—the pull in my chest that demanded I go to him. The bond that whispered mate every time I closed my eyes. The betrayal of my own body wanting the man who’d killed my brother.
So I did what I always did when emotions overwhelmed me: I channeled them into violence.
I found him in the guest quarters, alone. Vampire security was tight, but I’d spent the last eight hours studying patrol patterns. Fire magic made excellent distractions—a small blaze in the east wing had drawn guards away nicely.
The window to his room was open. Invitation or carelessness, I didn’t care.
I slipped inside on silent feet.
He was awake. Standing by the window, moonlight painting him silver and shadow. Still dressed despite the late hour, as if he’d been expecting me.
“Cassia.” My name in his voice did things I refused to acknowledge. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“Agreed.” I pulled the silver blade from my belt—blessed by witch magic, deadly to vampires. “But here I am.”
He didn’t reach for a weapon. Didn’t call for guards. Just watched me with those silver eyes that had haunted my nightmares for three months.
“If you’re going to kill me, do it quickly.” He spread his arms. Offering himself. “I won’t fight you.”
The bond screamed. Protested. Howled at the thought of harming our mate.
I lunged anyway.
Fast as I was, he was faster. Vampire speed caught my wrist mid-strike, twisted the blade away without breaking my grip. His other hand caught my waist, pulled me off balance.
We crashed to the floor. I tried to summon fire—he pinned my hands above my head with one of his, stopping the magic before I could shape it.
“I said I wouldn’t fight,” he growled. “I didn’t say I’d let you stab me.”
“Let go!” I thrashed. The bond purred at the contact, at having him close, at the way his body covered mine in a way that should have felt threatening but instead felt—
No. Absolutely not.
I kneed him in the ribs. He grunted but didn’t release me. Didn’t hurt me even though he easily could have.
“Stop,” he said quietly. “Please. You’re only hurting yourself.”
“I don’t care!” Magic sparked along my skin, trying to break free. “Let me go or I’ll burn us both.”
“Then burn us.” He met my eyes. “If it makes the pain stop, burn us both to ash. I’ll let you.”
The sincerity in his voice stopped me cold. He meant it. Would let me kill him if it brought me peace.
The fight drained out of me. Left me shaking underneath him, hating how right it felt to have him close. Hating the bond that made every cell sing at his touch.
“I hate you,” I whispered.
“I know.”
“You killed my brother.”
“I know that too.”
“And now I’m supposed to just—what? Accept this? Accept that fate decided you’re my mate?” Tears burned. I blinked them back furiously. “It’s cruel. It’s fucked up. It’s—”
“Impossible,” he finished. “Witch-vampire bonds haven’t existed in centuries. And yet here we are.”
“I don’t want this.”
“Neither do I.” But his thumb brushed my wrist where he held me, gentle despite the restraint. “But we’re stuck with it. Both of us.”
“Then reject it. Bonds can be broken if both parties refuse—”
“That would kill us both. You know that.”
I did know that. Rejecting a mate bond once it had snapped led to slow death for both parties. Madness first, then physical decline, then nothing.
“Maybe I’d prefer death to being tied to you.”
“Maybe.” He released my wrists carefully. Rolled off me but didn’t move far. “But I don’t think you would. You’re a fighter, Cassia. You survived losing your brother. You’ll survive this too.”
“Don’t.” I sat up, putting distance between us even though the bond protested. “Don’t act like you know me.”
“I don’t. But I’d like to.” He stayed on the floor, non-threatening. “I know you probably can’t forgive what I did. I’m not asking you to. But we need to figure out how to exist with this bond without destroying each other.”
“And how do you suggest we do that?”
“Carefully. Honestly. And maybe—” He paused. “Maybe by trying to understand each other. I can’t undo killing your brother. But I can tell you why. Show you the evidence. Let you see what I saw.”
“You want me to forgive you.”
“No. I want you to hate me for the right reasons. Not for being a monster, but for doing my duty even when it hurt.”
I studied him. The careful way he held himself. The exhaustion in his eyes. The weight he carried that matched my own.
“Show me,” I said finally. “Show me this evidence that was so damning my brother deserved to die.”
He stood slowly. Offered his hand to help me up. I ignored it, rising on my own power.
“The documents are in the secure vault,” he said. “Tomorrow. I’ll request access and we’ll review them together.”
“Why wait?”
“Because it’s past midnight and you’ve just tried to kill me. I think we both need time to process.” He moved toward the door. “I’ll arrange for you to have quarters near mine. So the bond doesn’t pull so hard.”
“I’m not staying near you.”
“The alternative is agony.” He was right and we both knew it. The bond demanded proximity. Fighting it caused physical pain. “We don’t have to like each other. But we need to be practical about this.”
I wanted to argue. Wanted to storm out and prove I could resist the bond through sheer stubbornness.
But my chest already ached from the distance. My magic itched to close the gap. My treacherous body wanted to be near him despite everything.
“Fine. But separate rooms. Locked doors. No—” I gestured between us. “No mate stuff.”
“Agreed.” Something that might have been disappointment flickered across his face. “I have no intention of forcing anything on you. The bond complicates things enough without adding that.”
A knock at the door. “Your Highness? We saw light—”
“I’m fine,” Alaric called. “False alarm.”
“Shall we investigate?”
“No need. Return to your posts.”
Footsteps retreated. I stared at him. “You’re not telling them I was here?”
“And start a diplomatic incident? No.” He crossed to a cabinet, pulled out two glasses and a bottle of amber liquid. “Besides, you have every right to hate me. I’m not going to punish you for acting on it.”
He poured two drinks. Offered one. I took it warily.
“To impossible situations,” he said, raising his glass.
“To brothers who deserved better,” I countered.
“To both.”
We drank in silence. The liquor burned—vampire whiskey, stronger than anything witches brewed. I felt it warm my stomach, loosen the tight knot of rage that had been choking me for months.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I asked finally. “I just tried to kill you.”
“Because you’re my mate. And because you’re grieving. And because—” He set down his glass. “Because I understand. If someone had killed my brother, I’d want them dead too.”
“You have a brother?”
“Lucian. Younger. Ambitious. Absolutely insufferable.” A ghost of a smile. “But I’d burn the world for him. So I understand your rage. Even when it’s directed at me.”
The admission sat heavy between us. Common ground neither of us wanted but couldn’t deny.
“I should go,” I said.
“The rooms are two doors down. I’ll have your things moved there.”
“How do you know I’ll stay?”
“Because leaving would hurt. The bond won’t let you go far.” He walked me to the door. “Try to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll start figuring this out.”
I paused in the doorway. “I still hate you.”
“I know.”
“And I’m going to keep trying to find a way out of this.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” He leaned against the frame, close enough that I could feel his warmth. The bond hummed contentedly at the proximity. “But Cassia? While we’re figuring this out, please try not to get yourself killed. I’d rather not find out what happens when one half of a mate pair dies violently.”
“Concerned for yourself?”
“Concerned for you.” The honesty in his voice was worse than any lie. “Whether you believe it or not, I don’t want you hurt. By me or anyone else.”
I left before I could do something stupid like believe him.
The rooms he’d mentioned were luxurious—vampire opulence in black and silver. A bed large enough for five people. Windows overlooking the gardens. And through the wall, I could feel him. Sense his presence like a second heartbeat.
The bond settled, satisfied at the proximity.
I hated it. Hated how good it felt to be near him. Hated that my body recognized him as mate even while my mind screamed murderer.
But more than that, I hated that the rage was fading. That seeing his guilt, his exhaustion, his unexpected gentleness was making him human instead of monster.
Because monsters were easy to hate.
But men carrying the weight of impossible choices?
That was complicated.
I fell asleep hating fate, hating the bond, hating Alaric Ravencrest.
And hating myself most of all for the small, traitorous part of me that had felt safe in his arms on that floor.
Even if only for a moment.
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