The chamber was forbidden.
Its ceiling carved with the bones of wolves who had tasted immortality and bled for it.
Its door sealed in wax that reeked of copper and fear.
And at the very center—
A ritual basin shaped like an open ribcage.
This was where Kael brought her.
No guards.
No witnesses.
Just two monsters and the truth between them.
"Elara," he said, voice low, "we're no longer protected."
"I know."
"Someone rewrote the contract."
"I saw it."
"They've turned the bond against you."
"Then let's rewrite it."
Kael stilled.
The flickering torches cast wild shadows over his face.
"You mean…"
"A new contract," she said. "Between us. No outsider marks. No old bloodlines. Just venom."
Kael inhaled.
That word—
It meant something here.
In wolf tongue, "venom" wasn't just poison.
It was truth you chose to swallow.
Even when it killed you.
He stepped forward.
Unfastened the clasp of his shirt.
Pulled it over his head.
The moonlight poured across the crystallizing scars on his ribs, each one a jagged memory of survival.
Then he handed her the blade.
"Elara," he said, "this pact requires more than blood."
She nodded.
"I know."
He looked at her for a long moment.
Then he sank to his knees in front of her.
Head bowed.
Elara trembled.
Not from fear.
From the gravity of it.
The sheer wild weight of what she was about to do.
She raised the blade.
Pressed it to his chest.
Right over his heart.
The same place she had bitten days ago.
"Name me," she whispered.
Kael didn't hesitate.
"I name you mine."
She cut.
Blood welled.
He didn't flinch.
Then she reversed the grip.
Placed the blade in his hand.
Turned.
Exposed her back.
"Name me," she said again.
"I name you the only reason I kneel."
The cut burned.
But she didn't cry out.
They let the blood drip together into the basin.
The crimson swirled.
Mixed.
Then hissed.
The liquid began to boil.
"Now," Kael said, "we drink."
They each dipped two fingers into the cursed blood.
Pressed it to their own tongues.
And swallowed.
The effect was instant.
Elara felt the burn crawl down her throat, into her lungs, into her veins.
Her body arched.
Kael let out a snarl beside her, clutching his chest.
And then—
It began.
Visions.
But not hallucinations.
Not dreams.
Shared memories.
Through the bond, their venom called to one another.
And what had been private became exposed.
Kael saw her, younger, hiding her dying sister under a church pew, stuffing a cloth into her own mouth so no one would hear her sob.
Elara saw Kael, chained in the rain, forced to kneel before his father while lightning struck a corpse hanging beside him.
Kael saw her bruised, sick, teeth red from biting down to keep from shifting under Lysandra's trials.
Elara saw him dragging a blood-soaked bag into the sea, whispering an apology to a name he never uttered aloud—his mother.
The bond pulsed brighter.
The basin flared with light.
Their cuts reopened.
Fresh blood poured in.
It wasn't supposed to hurt this much.
But it did.
Because this was no longer a pact.
It was a fuse.
Elara collapsed first.
Kael caught her.
Held her.
Her body convulsing in his arms.
But she didn't scream.
She opened her eyes.
Looked at him.
And whispered:
"I saw it.Your shame.Your silence.Your loneliness."
He swallowed.
"You're not supposed to carry it."
"I want to."
"Elara—"
"And I saw your love," she said. "Even when it's buried under hate."
Kael pressed his forehead to hers.
"I saw your fear," he whispered. "The way you break before you bend. The way you'd rather bleed than beg."
They kissed.
Blood between their mouths.
Not passion.
Not lust.
Recognition.
When they pulled apart, the pact mark on her collarbone had changed.
It no longer shimmered silver.
It now glowed deep red.
Bonded.
But no longer cursed.
They collapsed on the ritual floor together.
Breathing.
Alive.
Bound.
"I don't know what we've just done," Elara whispered, eyes closed.
Kael held her hand.
"Then let's be the first to find out."