Lysandra felt two hands holding her—
one warm like fading sunlight,
the other cool like midnight shadow.
Evander.
And the Heir.
One on each side.
Two opposite worlds touching her at the same time.
Her wolf didn't know whether to run, growl, or collapse.
She blinked through the haze of leftover moonlight, chest heaving.
"Let… let go," she whispered shakily.
Neither of them moved.
The Heir's fingers tightened at her waist.
Evander's thumb brushed her knuckles protectively.
"Both of you—please—just—"
Evander pulled back first.
He always pulled back first.
"Sorry," he whispered. "I didn't mean to crowd you."
The Heir didn't move at all.
He stared at Lysandra's trembling form, something furious and unspoken burning behind his eyes.
Only when Lysandra pushed at his hand weakly did he stand and step back.
The High Priestess gazed down at the three of them with a heavy sadness.
"The Trial of Truth has revealed what fate already knew," she said softly.
"The Moonblood belongs to both bonds."
Lysandra's stomach twisted.
Evander swallowed hard.
The Heir's jaw tightened in silent agony.
But the Priestess wasn't finished.
"Now," she said, "the moon must test the strength of each bond… separately."
Lysandra stiffened.
"Separately?" she echoed.
"How is that possible?"
The Priestess looked directly into Lysandra's eyes.
"By dividing your heart."
Lysandra felt the floor tilt beneath her.
"My—what?"
Evander grabbed her hand.
"You're NOT dividing anything."
The Heir stepped closer too.
"You will not touch her soul."
The Priestess raised a hand, silencing them both with the force of an ancient goddess.
"The moon does not divide her heart to harm her.
It divides to reveal."
Lysandra trembled.
"Reveal what?"
"Which bond is stronger."
Evander's breath caught.
The Heir's shadows recoiled violently behind him.
The Priestess approached Lysandra slowly, gently cupping her chin.
"Child," she murmured, "a Moonblood cannot hold two mates.
Your heart will choose."
Lysandra shook her head violently.
"No. No, I— I can't choose! Please—don't make me—"
Evander squeezed her hand.
"You don't have to choose. We'll refuse the trial."
The Heir scoffed.
"You think refusing the moon is an option?"
Evander glared.
"YES. If it hurts her, then yes—"
The Priestess interrupted quietly.
"You misunderstand."
Everyone fell silent.
"The moon will not force YOU to choose."
She touched Lysandra's chest, just above her racing heart.
"It will force her heart to choose."
Lysandra's fingers curled against her chest.
"I don't want to choose," she whispered.
Evander's voice broke.
"You won't lose me. I swear you won't."
The Heir's voice dropped low.
"You cannot promise that."
Evander glared at him.
"And you think you stand a better chance?"
The Heir stepped forward, voice sharp and cold:
"She is bound to prophecy with me.
Our bond is ancient.
Older than her life."
"And she chose ME!" Evander snapped.
Lysandra covered her ears.
"Stop. Just stop."
Her wolf whimpered.
Too much.
Too loud.
Too painful.
The Priestess stepped between the three of them.
"The moon awaits."
She pointed toward a shimmering doorway forming behind the altar.
"Beyond that door lies the Chamber of Echoes—where bonds are tested."
Lysandra's knees weakened.
"What happens to Evander if… if my heart chooses the Heir?"
Evander swallowed.
"Lysandra—"
The Priestess answered instead.
"His soul will fracture."
Evander paled.
The Heir stiffened.
Lysandra felt herself choke on a sob.
"No—NO— I won't let that happen—"
She turned desperately toward Evander.
"You could die."
He shook his head quickly.
"No. No— I won't die. I'll be fine—"
"Do not lie," the Priestess said gently.
"If a mortal's bond breaks… it ends him."
Lysandra covered her mouth with trembling fingers.
Her wolf screamed inside.
No.
Not him.
Not Evander.
She turned to the Heir.
"And… what happens to you if my heart chooses Evander?"
The Heir looked away.
His silence was answer enough.
The Priestess spoke for him.
"A Shadow Heir lives without a mate."
Lysandra exhaled sharply.
"So you won't die."
"No," the Heir said softly.
"But I will never bond again."
Lysandra's throat tightened.
"Your soul won't fracture?"
"No," he murmured.
"But I will live bound to an empty bond for eternity.
A wound that never heals."
Evander flinched.
Lysandra felt tears spill from her eyes.
"So… either Evander dies… or you live eternally broken?"
The Priestess nodded.
"That is the cost of dual bonds."
Lysandra shook her head violently.
"No. I refuse this. I won't choose. I won't step into that chamber."
The Priestess looked heartbroken.
"You have no choice.
If you delay the trial, both bonds weaken.
Both souls could fracture."
Both.
Both could break.
Lysandra staggered.
Evander caught her.
"Hey—don't cry—"
"How can I NOT?!" she sobbed.
"You're both suffering because of me— I'm hurting both of you just by existing—"
The Heir stepped closer.
His voice was softer than she had ever heard it.
"You did not choose this fate."
Lysandra trembled.
"But you… you want the bond."
The Heir's eyes flickered.
"I didn't want it."
A pause.
"I simply accepted it."
Evander's jaw clenched.
Lysandra turned toward Evander.
"And you… you didn't want it either."
Evander gave her a sad smile.
"No," he whispered.
"I didn't want a bond."
Her heart shattered.
"But I wanted you."
The Heir inhaled sharply.
Lysandra sobbed again.
The room flickered with moonlight.
The Priestess raised her staff.
"The moon grows impatient."
Evander held Lysandra's hands.
"Whatever happens, you won't face this alone."
The Heir stood at her other side.
"I will not let your soul break.
Even if mine must."
Lysandra's wolf trembled.
They love you.
Both of them.
Both would bleed for you.
The Priestess stepped aside.
"The Chamber of Echoes awaits."
The moonlight swirled violently.
Evander whispered:
"Lysandra… choose us."
The Heir whispered:
"Choose fate."
Lysandra whispered:
"I don't want to choose at all."
Her wolf howled softly in grief.
But the moon opened the chamber door—
—and pulled her inside.
Everything went white.