The courtyard fell silent.
Even the flames seemed to shrink back as Alphonsus Thorne stepped through the shattered gate, ash swirling around his boots like bowed spirits.
Eleanor felt the bond inside her twist painfully.
Adam moved in front of her instantly, a living wall of muscle and fury. His hand slid back, finding her waist, pulling her behind him as his body tensed to shift.
Alphonsus's gaze flicked to their linked forms.
A faint, cold smile curved his lips.
"So," he said, voice deep and calm as a winter grave, "the bond has taken root."
Adam growled, low and deadly. "If you came for your daughter, you're too late."
"No," Alphonsus replied. "I came for you."
Eleanor stiffened.
Adam didn't move, but the shadow inside him did—she felt it ripple across the bond like an icy hand gripping his spine.
"Father," she said, stepping out from behind Adam. "Stop this. Call off your soldiers. There's been enough blood—"
"Silence."
Alphonsus's voice cracked like a whip.
Eleanor flinched. Adam snarled.
The Thorne patriarch's eyes—silver like the pale moon—shifted to Adam, studying him with terrifying precision.
"You are losing control," Alphonsus said. "I can smell the shadow rotting your blood."
Adam's jaw clenched.
"You caused it," he spat. "Your clan cursed mine."
"No," Alphonsus corrected, with the icy certainty of a man who never doubted his own righteousness. "I cursed you."
Eleanor's breath hitched.
Adam stiffened.
And Alphonsus finally spoke the truth Eleanor had feared since childhood.
---
The Origin of the Curse
"Your father," Alphonsus said to Adam calmly, "was arrogant."
He stepped closer, his presence heavy enough to make seasoned warriors step back.
"He demanded my allegiance. He wanted the Thorne clan's strength but refused to acknowledge our bloodline's superiority. So I punished him."
Adam's fists trembled.
"You cursed an entire bloodline because of a disagreement?"
Alphonsus's smile was razor-thin. "Power must be respected, Alpha Draven. And yours was… insufficient."
"Enough." Eleanor's voice shook. "What you did was monstrous."
He gave her a cold, approving glance. "You speak boldly for a daughter who once could not raise her voice without trembling."
Adam moved closer to her—protective, possessive.
Alphonsus continued unfazed.
"The curse was simple," he said. "Your line was bound to the Shadow-Wolf, Zakriel. It sleeps in the blood until triggered."
Adam's eyes darkened. "Triggered by what?"
Alphonsus's gaze locked onto Eleanor.
"By her."
The world stopped.
Eleanor's stomach twisted sharply, vision blurring for a moment. "Me?"
Alphonsus clasped his hands behind his back, pacing with a predator's grace.
"The curse was designed to awaken when the last Draven heir encountered a Thorne-born mate with spirit-sight."
Eleanor's heart dropped.
Spirit-sight.
A gift inherited from her father. A secret she was trained to hide.
A curse she never asked for.
Adam froze. "You're telling me—she activated the curse?"
Alphonsus nodded. "Her presence awakened Zakriel. Her blood amplifies him."
Eleanor's hand went to her chest. "You used me."
"You were born for this," Alphonsus said without emotion. "Your existence has purpose."
Adam took a step forward, eyes blazing. "She is not a weapon."
Alphonsus flicked him a dismissive glance. "She is whatever I shape her to be."
Eleanor's breath trembled. "You used me to destroy him."
"No," Alphonsus said. "To control him. Once Zakriel consumes him fully, the Alpha's mind will break. And the Nightfang pack will be mine."
Adam lunged—
Eleanor grabbed him.
Hard.
"Adam—no!"
The bond surged, stopping him mid-swing. Every muscle in his body locked against her grip.
Alphonsus laughed quietly. "Look at that. She commands you already."
Adam's snarl shook the ground.
Eleanor stepped in front of her father, fury burning through her fear. "I'm not doing this. I won't help you. Not again."
Alphonsus tilted his head, observing her as if she were not a daughter, but a disobedient creation.
"You misunderstand," he said softly. "You don't have a choice."
He raised a hand.
Eleanor's body froze.
Not magically—not physically.
But from memory.
The way he used to gesture right before—
Before punishment.
Before the pain.
Adam sensed her terror like it was his own. The air around him exploded with dark energy, his body shifting partially as he shoved Eleanor behind him again.
"Touch her," Adam growled, "and I will burn your clan to the ground."
Alphonsus's expression hardened.
"You will try."
---
The Blood Oath
Alphonsus lifted a blade—black, curved, etched with ancient runes glowing moon-white.
Eleanor recognized it instantly.
The Moon Severing Blade.
The weapon used in the bond-breaking ritual.
The blade meant to kill Adam through her.
"No," Eleanor whispered, backing up. "Father—stop."
Adam's hand tightened on her arm.
"What does he plan to do with that blade?" he asked quietly.
Eleanor swallowed, voice cracking. "He wants to sever the bond. And the ritual… it kills the Alpha connected to me."
Adam's eyes went dead cold.
Then Alphonsus threw the blade at Adam's feet.
"Choose, Alpha Draven," he said. "I offer you mercy."
Mercy.
Eleanor almost laughed.
"You sever the bond," Alphonsus continued, "and she lives."
Adam's entire body stilled.
Eleanor did the opposite—she stepped forward.
"Kill the bond," Alphonsus said softly, "and you free her from the curse's influence. She will survive. You will die."
Adam's grip on Eleanor's waist tightened painfully.
He whispered, "Don't listen."
Alphonsus's next words were a dagger aimed at Eleanor's heart.
"Or keep the bond—and watch him descend into madness, controlled by Zakriel, until he slaughters you himself."
Adam flinched.
Eleanor's breath shattered.
Because she felt it too.
The shadow growing.
Twisting.
Consuming Adam inch by inch.
And she knew Alphonsus wasn't lying.
Not about that.
Adam turned her toward him, cupping her face with trembling hands.
"Don't you dare," he whispered. "Don't choose him over me."
"I—I'm not," she stammered, even as her heart tore with fear.
Alphonsus extended his arms.
"Come home, Eleanor. Step away from that creature."
Adam's entire body shook with rage. "Eleanor… don't move."
And then—
A Nightfang wolf charged Alphonsus from behind, trying to strike.
Without turning, Alphonsus lifted a hand.
The wolf collapsed mid-leap—dead.
A single gesture.
Eleanor gasped.
Adam's eyes widened in horror and fury.
Alphonsus lowered his hand slowly.
"Choose," he repeated.
Eleanor felt Adam's breath on her neck.
"I would rather die," Adam whispered, "than lose you."
The bond pulsed—painful and sweet at once.
Her father extended his hand again.
"Come to me," he said. "Or he dies tonight."
Eleanor's heart pounded so hard she thought it might burst.
She stepped forward.
Adam grabbed her wrist, voice cracking, "Eleanor—NO."
She turned.
Looked into his eyes.
And said the one thing that shattered him.
"I can't let you die."
Adam looked gutted.
Destroyed.
Hunted.
"Eleanor—" his voice broke.
But she stepped toward Alphonsus anyway.
And Adam let out a roar that split the night.
A roar of betrayal.
A roar of heartbreak.
A roar of a mate being torn away.
The shadow inside him surged—
And everything descended into chaos.