The room they gave her was meant for recovery.
Stone walls. One narrow window. No sigils carved into the floor on purpose. The council called it mercy. She knew better. They were afraid of what she might do if they gave her too much space to feel.
Her mate dismissed the guards with a look alone.
The door shut. Silence followed.
Only then did her strength finally give way.
She swayed, breath catching sharply as the weight she'd been holding back crashed down all at once. His arms were already there, steady and sure, lowering her onto the bed with a gentleness that didn't match the violence in his eyes.
"Easy," he murmured. "I've got you."
She laughed weakly. "You always say that."
"And you always forget to listen."
He knelt beside her, hands hovering for a second hesitating, as if afraid touching her might hurt. That hesitation hurt more than the binding ever could.
"You should've stopped them," she said softly.
His jaw tightened. "I would have lost the pack."
"And I would've lost you."
That did it.
He looked at her then really looked and the control he'd been holding onto fractured.
"I already almost did," he said hoarsely. "Standing there while they chained you… it went against everything I am."
She reached for him despite the dull ache crawling through her veins. The moment her fingers brushed his skin, heat sparked sharp, unmistakable.
He froze.
She felt it too.
The bond reacted.
Not violently. Not painfully.
Awakened.
They both stared at their joined hands.
"That shouldn't happen," he said slowly.
"No," she agreed. "It shouldn't."
The council's magic pressed down on her constantly a muted weight, suppressing the fire that had once answered her without hesitation. Yet around him… it thinned. Like mist burned away by sunlight.
His thumb brushed over her knuckles, cautious now.
"What do you feel?" he asked.
She closed her eyes, searching inward.
"The fire is quieter," she said. "But it's not weaker. It's… focused. And there's something else."
He leaned closer. "What?"
She opened her eyes.
"You."
Silence settled between them, thick and dangerous.
He exhaled slowly. "I should tell you something."
Her pulse quickened. "You sound like the kind of man who's been lying by omission."
A grim smile touched his lips. "I knew of the prophecy."
The words landed harder than the binding.
"You knew," she repeated.
"Not all of it," he said quickly. "Just enough to recognize the signs. Power without lineage. Fire without command. I didn't think it was real."
"And when you met me?"
"I hoped I was wrong."
She looked away, anger stirring slow, controlled.
"You should have told me."
"Yes," he said quietly. "I should have."
He reached out, resting his forehead against hers. "But I never expected to fall for you. And I never expected the prophecy to choose you so completely."
Her breath hitched.
The room dimmed suddenly.
She gasped not in pain, but shock as an image slammed into her mind.
Flames licking the council chamber walls.
Elders shouting.
Stone cracking.
And then
One of them stepped back.
Not fleeing.
Watching.
Her eyes flew open.
She sucked in a sharp breath, fingers digging into his arm.
"What did you see?" he demanded.
"There's a traitor," she said. "On the council."
His body went rigid.
"They're not trying to stop the prophecy," she continued, voice low and certain. "They're trying to control how it ends."
A chill crept into the room.
He straightened slowly, Alpha instincts flaring. "Then the binding wasn't protection."
"No," she said. "It was a leash."
She sat up despite the ache, fire flickering faintly in her gaze.
"And leashes break."
Outside, thunder rolled again closer this time.
And in the quiet that followed, the bond around her pulse tightened…
as if it had heard her too.