Although Kael felt disappointed, he knew this wasn't the time to dwell on his emotions.
First things first, he reminded himself.
"Since he is your mate… why didn't he convert you?" Kael asked, his voice calm but tight. "He can't possibly be human. His aura is on another level — far too powerful to belong to a human."
I didn't know what to say. I didn't even know where to begin.
I had never exchanged words with Dylan, yet I could feel his gaze whenever it landed on me. It wasn't warm. It wasn't curious.
It was hostile.
As if the mere sight of me irritated him.
"So what's the plan?" I asked quietly. I was certain Kael felt it too — that sharp wave of hatred that seemed to roll off Dylan whenever we were near.
"First, we analyze the situation," Kael said firmly.
"Dylan doesn't seem to like you. That's clear. Secondly, if he's human, then things become easier to understand. Humans can't see or feel the mating bond."
He paused before continuing.
"If that theory is correct, then the plan is simple. You get close to him. Make him fall in love with you. Once he's emotionally attached… converting him to obtain the key will be much easier."
I nodded slowly.
"And if he isn't human?" I asked.
Kael's jaw tightened.
"Then the real question becomes — what is he? And if he's one of our kind… why didn't he convert you? Even witches can sense a mate bond."
I swallowed hard.
I had prayed to the gods for so long to find the key. Now that it was finally within reach… everything felt more complicated than ever.
Sensing my fear, Kael reached for my hand and squeezed it gently.
"We'll get through this together," he said softly. "I'll always protect you. And when this is over, we'll go home and forget any of this ever happened."
I nodded, drawing strength from his reassurance.
"I've investigated him already," Kael continued. "His background is solid. Clean. Nothing suspicious. I can't sense any spiritual energy around him. That leaves us with one likely conclusion — he's human."
"Apart from our instincts telling us he isn't human, we have no proof otherwise."
"So I'll monitor him from afar and dig deeper. Meanwhile, you get close to him."
"Okay," I agreed.
It seemed like Kael wanted to say more, but he held back. After a moment, he waved it off. I didn't press him.
Jones Mansion
Dylan stood on the balcony, a cigarette resting between his fingers as smoke curled into the night air. He looked composed — almost unnervingly so — as though he could hear the heartbeat of the world itself.
The moonlight caught the sharp angles of his face. A strand of dark hair fell over his forehead, giving him a dangerously effortless look. His black trousers fit perfectly, and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing just enough to hint at controlled chaos beneath the surface.
One hand rested casually in his pocket while the other held the cigarette to his lips.
A woman approached him from behind, dressed in a red lace nightgown that clung to her curves. Her long dark hair cascaded down her back as she wrapped her arms around his waist.
"Let me keep your bed warm tonight," she whispered.
"I thought I told you to go to sleep, May," Dylan replied, though there was no real displeasure in his tone.
Before she could respond, he extinguished the cigarette and turned toward her in one swift motion, lifting her effortlessly. Her legs wrapped around him as he carried her inside.
His kiss was intense — almost punishing. Not gentle. Not tender.
Desperate.
As if he were trying to silence something inside himself.
Moments later, they were tangled in sheets, passion erupting in the dark room. But even as May clung to him, even as she gasped beneath his touch…
His mind betrayed him.
Isolde.
Her blue eyes which always look intense.
That unwavering presence.
The mate bond pulsed inside him like a curse.
He pulled away abruptly, frustration flashing in his eyes.
No matter how hard he tried, no matter how fiercely he tried to drown it…
He couldn't get her out of his head.
The bond was strong.
Too strong.
And tonight, he would have to fight it alone.
May rose slightly from the bed, confused by the sudden shift in him.
"Are you okay—"
Her words were cut short when he grabbed her again.
This time there was no hesitation in him. No distraction.
Only hunger.
He pulled her back into him, his control snapping like a thread stretched too thin. His mouth claimed hers again — harder, deeper — as though he were trying to erase every thought in his head.
He needed noise. He needed heat. He needed something strong enough to drown the bond.
But it didn't work.
Even as he touched her. Even as she clung to him. Even as the room filled with broken breaths and tangled sheets—
Silver hair flashed behind his eyes.
Blue eyes staring back at him.
That cursed connection pulsed inside his chest like a brand.
The mate bond wasn't gentle.
It was possessive. Demanding. Unforgiving.
He tightened his grip unconsciously, frustration bleeding into his movements. May mistook it for passion, arching into him, whispering his name like a prayer.
But he wasn't present.
Not fully.
No matter how fiercely he tried to lose himself, part of him remained painfully aware.
Aware of her.
Aware of the pull.
Aware that somewhere out there, she existed — breathing, living, feeling — and the universe had decided she belonged to him.
And he hated it.
With one final, controlled breath, he pulled away slightly, running a hand through his hair as he stared down at May.
She smiled lazily, satisfied.
But Dylan's expression was different.
Cold. Conflicted. Unsettled.
The bond was real.
And if she was truly his mate…
He would either break the bond... Or let it burn the world down with him.