"Honesty." His voice rolled low, velvet laced with sothing sharper. A smirk tugged faintly at the corner of his mouth. "A bold demand."
"I can do a blood bargain with you, if I must," I said with all the grit I could muster.
Blood bargains were rare, desperate asures among wolf shifters. They bound two souls together with a vow that couldn’t be broken. Not without death clawing for the one who failed. To even suggest it ant I was willing to put my life against his word.
His eyes narrowed, the faint gleam of crimson deepening.
Then, to my surprise, a soft laugh stirred from his lips, dangerous in its quietness.
"So interesting," he said, more to himself than to . "How bold you’ve beco, when not so long ago you were resigned to your fate."
Heat pricked at my skin, though the air was cold.
Because he was right.
Half a month ago, I hadn’t had this fire. I rembered all too vividly the day that letter arrived—the one naming Finn’s chosen breeder. My stomach had dropped, and in that mont the world had ended.
I’d been numb, drowning in a grief so heavy I couldn’t breathe. The walls of Finn’s manor pressed in around like a tomb, and I didn’t even have the will to scratch my way out.
I hadn’t wanted to fight.
But then... I’d seen what an asshole Finn truly was. The maid he used and discarded, her sudden disappearance no mystery to anyone with eyes. Stella... sweet Stella died because she stood too close to , because Finn decided she was guilty when he knew damn well she wasn’t. He killed her knowing she was innocent. He killed her because he could.
I realized it was too much for to stomach.
That mory coiled tight in my chest, a sharp and rciless reminder of why there could be no going back.
"Your honesty and protection," I said steadily, forcing those mories to fuel instead of break . "In exchange for my cooperation."
His expression stilled. He tilted his head slightly, studying as though I were an unfamiliar creature.
Shadows stirred faintly behind him, restless, like they too were considering my proposal.
"Hmm..." he murmured, thoughtful.
I clenched my hands at my sides. "I know you made up that story about your mother," I said, my voice cutting through the pause. "You don’t need a mate. Such sentints must be too shallow to be your motivation."
For a heartbeat, silence stretched. Then his gaze darkened, and I swore I saw the shadows bleed into his eyes. Crimson and smoke swirled together, giving his stare an otherworldly depth that sent a chill down my spine.
"Shallow," he echoed, his tone soft yet dangerous, like a predator testing the air. His eyes locked onto mine like he wanted to knock the air out of my lungs. "Do you truly think so little of ? That I am incapable of such sentint?"
I didn’t answer him.
But I didn’t need to. My silence, the stiffness in my shoulders, the flicker of disdain I hadn’t hidden well enough—it was all written plainly across my face.
And he knew it.
How could he not, when he knew I had only ever known him through whispers and fear?
To the outside world, Rion Morrigan was the shadow that consud all light. Stories of his cruelty traveled faster than the wind itself. A man who burned lands to ash, who tricked leaders into ruin, who slaughtered wolves with a savagery so brutal it bled into myth.
And in the short ti I had known him, I’d seen enough to confirm that much wasn’t exaggerated. He got out of Finn’s chains through burning lands and people.
So how could I not judge him?
"Sorry if you found that offending," I said finally, though even to my own ears the words rang hollow. I didn’t sound sorry at all.
"Oh, no," he said smoothly. "I wasn’t offended. Not at all."
That made sothing cold prickle down my spine. Offended would have been safer. At least offense was human. This calm, unbothered mask of his, it was far more dangerous.
"So," I pressed, calming my voice even as my pulse tripped in my throat. "Will you tell the truth?"
The playful curve of his lips faded like smoke dissolving into the air.
The shift in him was evident. My breath caught, instinct screaming through in waves. It was like the mont when predator eyes lock, and the prey’s body knows before the mind does that escape is impossible.
Goosebumps swept over my skin. My wolf pressed against from within, claws itching, her instinct to defend coiled tight, yet restrained.
"Since you are desperate enough to offer a blood bargain with ..." His voice was low, sweetly lethal "...I dare not disappoint you."
I swallowed hard. "Then tell ."
"Yes," he said finally. "I made up the story. I never had a mother."
Sothing twisted in my chest at his admission. I didn’t know why.
He let the silence linger, watching carefully, as if asuring how his words struck .
Then his gaze slid down, slow, tracing in a way that made my pulse quicken against my will. His eyes road from head to toe before lifting to lock with mine again.
"I don’t want a mate either." His tone was sharper now, colder, but a flicker of sothing softer curved his mouth for the briefest mont. "Not that you look any less beautiful to be considered."
Heat burned across my cheeks before I could stop it. Damn him. I clenched my jaw, refusing to look away.
If I broke eye contact, I would lose ground, and I couldn’t afford to give him that satisfaction.
"You think flattery will make this easier?" I bit out.
A low chuckle rolled from him, dark and quiet.
"No. But it amuses to see you struggle not to flinch."
"I’m not flinching."
"Mm." His eyes glinted, amused.
I glared, but said nothing.
He let the silence stretch until I wanted to snap, then leaned closer just enough for the shadows at his back to stir, restless like living smoke.
"I’ve been looking," he said, his voice dropping lower, heavier, "for a way to awaken the Celestial Wolf."
The na sent a jolt through , cold and hot all at once. My brows knitted.
The Celestial Wolf...?
"And it seems," he continued, gaze fixed on with consuming intent, "you are one of the keys."
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