The walk back to the guest house felt longer than it was.

Everything had gone quiet in the Grove once again. The ground no longer shifted under our feet. It was as if the forest itself was watching, holding back to see how we handled the commotion we had just discovered.

Kael walked next to me, close but not touching. That didn’t matter. I still felt him. It was impossible to ignore every breath he took and every subtle shift in his posture. It was like my body had redrawn its entire map, and Kael was now marked dead centre.

I tried to concentrate on the path, on the soft crackle of leaves underfoot or the cold pull of magic that still lingered around the corners of the Grove. But all I could think about was the pressure of his gaze on the side of my face, the sound of his voice still echoing in the back of my mind, and the way his presence had altered everything.

Caelum moved behind us like a shadow, and he seemed incredibly calm for how much he must be going through. Even though he didn’t say anything, I knew he was watching Kael and me.

I could feel his disappointment like a stone in my gut. But that wasn’t because I had bonded with Kael. I had no idea why he felt that way.

Behind him, Fabian’s boots rolled silently on the stone path. He had his arms crossed defensively and his expression was hard to read. What unsettled me most was not knowing what he was thinking.

Damon kept his distance. He didn’t walk beside me or glance my way. He remained a fixed point in my peripheral vision, and his silence felt like acceptance, and it didn’t surprise me.

When has he ever fought for me?

As we stepped back into the courtyard of the guest house, the ward stones pulsed softly in recognition. Caelum was the first one through, brushing his palm against one of the glyphs. The barrier parted like a curtain and reformed behind us once we were all inside.

Kael’s eyes immediately focused on the structure. I could see the calculation working behind his stare—the way he assessed the warding patterns, the reinforcement sigils, the Grove’s magic pressed into every surface like a living defence system.

“You knew this place existed,” I said, looking sideways at him. “I saw your maps and stuff in your residence.”

“I had my suspicions,” Kael replied. “Old reports. Disappearing patrols. But no confirmation.” He looked around again. “My father sent scouts here decades ago. They didn’t return.”

Caelum turned slightly, not facing Kael directly, but enough to meet the comment. “That’s because the Grove doesn’t allow conquest.”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “Neither do I.”

That got Caelum’s full attention, and he turned fully around. I could tell they wouldn’t get along, and Caelum’s dislike for Kael was worse than Damien’s.

“You’re here by accident. I suggest you remain a guest,” Caelum cautioned politely.

Kael tilted his head. “That depends. Do you intend to keep my mate under lock and key?”

“Luna is not under anything,” Caelum said calmly. “She is here because the Grove called her. Just as it called you. I protect her. I don’t claim her.”

After taking a deep breath, I took a step into the room to give myself some space before I fractured. How come Caelum didn’t want to claim me anyway? I was his mate.

I could feel it now, like two distinct pulses under my skin. Where my magic was, the bond with Caelum was loud. We were connected by energy and witchcraft.

But Kael and I had a strong bond. It was loud and physical. The kind that made it incredibly difficult to walk beside him without remembering how he looked at me in that grove. It was so close to giving in to my desire to hold him.

Sitting on the edge of the nearest cushion, I tried to steady myself. All I could think about was them two. Not Fabian or Damien.

Caelum didn’t sit. Neither did Kael.

Both of them stood on opposite sides of the room. And I was caught in the middle, split between two worlds that had been at war since before I was born.

Fabian leaned against the wall by the door, arms crossed like he was getting ready for a show. His eyes bounced between Kael and Caelum, then to me, the corner of his mouth twitching with an amused expression.

“You know,” he said casually, “for someone who’s just found out he’s one of three, you’re handling this surprisingly well.”

Kael’s head turned, slowly. “Three what?”

Fabian blinked. “Mates. Didn’t she tell you?”

When would I have gotten the chance to tell him? For that, I wanted to blast Fabian to the abyss. Caelum even peered up at his brother with a flicker of warning in his eyes.

Kael’s eyes cut to mine. “You have three mates?”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. There was no elegant way to explain it. No soft delivery that would make it less absurd. It hadn’t even crossed my mind that I would have to tell him about it.

“Yes,” I said finally. “Apparently.”

Kael didn’t move, but his expression changed. That controlled calm of his fractured, just a hair. “And the other two?”

Fabian answered before I could. “You’re looking at one.” He tipped his head toward Caelum. “The temple keeper is the witch half of the bond, and I am the twinned mate.”

“You’re bonded to them?” Kael asked, his eyes narrowing like he was bracing for an answer that might ruin the floor below his feet.

“It’s complicated,” I said. The words sounded brittle and pathetic from the moment they left my mouth. “But yes.”

He shifted his gaze to Caelum and it was cold. “You?”

Caelum stared at him. “The bond formed during her first awakening, when she entered the Divide.”

Kael’s jaw ticked, just once. “And what’” he glanced at all of us now, like counting a battlefield” “the three of you just coexist?”

“No one’s holding hands and singing,” Fabian muttered.

Kael ignored him completely. “Why?” he asked. But this time, the question wasn’t emotional. It was calculated. “What purpose does this serve?”

“What?” I asked, confused.

“You don’t bond with three mates without a reason,” he said. “Not when they’re across bloodlines, across species. What’s the endgame?”

Caelum’s shoulders lifted slightly. “She’s the Unifier.”

Kael turned back to me. “What does that even mean?”

“It means I’m supposed to undo the divide between wolves and witches,” I said. “Reunify the dominion. End the conflict, the bloodlines, the cursed river—everything that’s kept both sides fractured.”

Kael didn’t react immediately, but his mind was already pulling the pieces together. I saw it in his eyes—the way he catalogued everything: bloodlines, territory, power. His face didn’t flinch, but I could feel his thoughts rearranging.

And for some reason, that steadied me.

Kael was Kael. Always five steps ahead of everyone in the room. And maybe, finally, someone was asking the questions I hadn’t dared to.

“What’s the cost?” he asked. But he wasn’t looking at me any more. His eyes locked on Caelum.

Caelum’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“There’s always a cost,” Kael said. “Magic like this doesn’t come clean. You can’t rewrite history without a consequence. If she’s the Unifier and is meant to fix all this—then what has to be broken in exchange?”

I opened my mouth to speak. I didn’t know what I was going to say, maybe nothing, but the words died there because I felt Kael move closer.

His hand brushed mine. It was small. Barely anything. But it set fire to my pulse. Gods, Kael had never made me feel so jittery before.

He didn’t stop. He stepped into my space like it had always belonged to him. One hand came up to brush my cheek, like he needed to confirm I was real.

“Whatever this is, you’re not doing it alone,” he said. “Not if I’m still breathing.”

My knees nearly buckled under the sheer force of his presence. I hated how easily I leaned into him, how natural it felt when he pulled me closer, like my body had always known the shape of his.

Caelum shifted across the room. I felt his eyes on us as his bond pulsed too, but it didn’t rage. It just ached.

“I’ve seen what’s coming,” Caelum said. His voice was low, but it cut through the silence. “Not all of it. Not the full shape. But flashes. Shadows.”

Kael kept his hands on me, but turned slightly toward him. “What kind of flashes?”

“The Enchanted River. The high priestesses of the witch council. A shattering,” Caelum answered, gaze locked on me. “Something breaks at the centre. Something that won’t mend again.”

“What?” Fabian asked.

Caelum didn’t answer right away. Then, softly, “Her.”

Fabian straightened slightly. Damien said nothing.

Kael’s grip on me tightened protectively. Like he could hear it too and something in him snapped to attention and refused to look away.

“No,” Kael said. “Not if I can stop it.”

Caelum’s bond stirred in response. I didn’t just feel it, I knew it. It wasn’t passive agreement but shared resolve. Two different instincts, same conclusion.

When I turned to look at him, Caelum met my eyes, unreadable as always. But I could feel the shift. He had made his peace with Kael’s bond to me, and now he was already adjusting to the bigger picture. Caelum never wasted time fighting inevitabilities. He adapted.

“I suppose they’ve already started teaching you to use your powers?” Kael asked, turning back to me. “You’ve been here a day. That should’ve been the priority.”

I tried to answer, but his gaze pinned me in place. He wasn’t being cold, as alpha, he was just focused. Strategising. Preparing for a war no one had officially declared yet.

“No,” I admitted. “Not yet. It’s” been a lot.”

“It doesn’t matter if it’s a lot,” Kael said. “You’re running out of time.”

Caelum’s voice came through again. “Might I ask what the summit decided?”

Kael’s expression darkened. “Nothing good.”

He didn’t elaborate at first. Just paced once, tightly, before his jaw flexed.

“The witches want her,” he said quietly. “I don’t know why. They kept it vague purposefully.”

He stopped pacing, looked directly at Caelum.

“The wolves are split. The Elders want her cast out. No sanctuary, no allegiance, no protection. They see her as a threat they didn’t account for. They think she’s the reason the witches have grown bold.”

“And what do you think?” Caelum asked.

Kael didn’t hesitate. “I think they’re right to be afraid.”

He looked at me then. No softness in it, just brutal honesty, and I understood it. Caelum was the same way, just a bit more candid in his approach.

“If there’s a chance to undo the divide—to end the war, to keep the Dominion from eating itself—I’m going to take it. Whether the council approves or not,” Kael growled.

“Alright. Then what is the next step?” Caelum asked.

Kael didn’t hesitate. “We train her. Fast. Then we prepare to fight.”

I exhaled slowly, because it was the first thing either of them had said all day that felt like something I could hold onto.

The room settled into a fragile quiet after Kael’s declaration. No one argued mostly because there was nothing left to say.

Caelum gave a small nod and stepped back. “I’ll give you both a moment,” he said. It wasn’t framed as permission, or even suggestion. Just a courtesy.

Fabian followed him out without a word. Damien lingered for a heartbeat longer, but when I didn’t look his way, he didn’t speak. The door shut behind them with a soft click.

And then we were alone.

Neither of us moved. The silence between us was taut. It wasn’t awkward or hesitant, just thick with many unspoken things. I couldn’t breathe past the heft of it, the way the air buzzed like static against my skin.

Kael stood just a few feet away, his arms loose at his sides, yet it felt like he was already touching me. I could feel him in the marrow of me. In the way my pulse stuttered, and in the heat blooming low in my belly. The bond had taken root, threading itself into places I didn’t even know could ache.

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” I said, voice barely above a whisper.

His eyes dragged over my face, slow and searching. “I have always felt it, Luna.”

That was all it took.

The space between us vanished, like it had never been real. His hand was suddenly at my jaw, warm and sure, while the other slid to my waist and pulled me to him. There was nothing hesitant about his touch. It wasn’t gentle, but it wasn’t violent either. It was claiming, and possessive.

A promise his body had been waiting years to make. And gods help me, I didn’t resist.

My fingers found his shirt and curled into the fabric, pulling him closer even as I told myself to breathe. His scent hit me all at once—earth, heat, something heady and familiar that burned down my throat like wine. I didn’t just smell it.

I felt it.

His mouth found mine like it had always known the shape of me. The kiss was slow and consuming, like he wanted to memorise the taste of my lips before taking the rest of me.

My body pressed into his, and his grip on my waist tightened. The kiss deepened with a hunger that spiralled through me, igniting sparks in places I’d kept carefully locked away. It was all heat and ache and gravity, so much gravity, pulling me into him until I wasn’t sure where I ended and he began.

When my knees began to buckle, he caught me as if he knew it would happen. Like he wanted me to fall, just so he could be the one to hold me up. His hands curved against my back, anchoring me as I clung to the broad plane of his chest.

When he pulled back, just barely, his breath grazed my lips.

His eyes were darker now, a deeper green, like the bond had bled into his irises. “Tell me this doesn’t feel real.”

That would be a lie. It was too much, and too fast, and still not enough.

I pressed my forehead to his, gasping like I’d forgotten how to take in air that wasn’t already filled with him.

“I don’t know how to do this,” I whispered. “I don’t know how to be this.”

“You don’t have to,” he murmured. “Just let me.”

And then my magic shifted deep in my chest, stirring. The part of me that wasn’t just wolf or witch, that jagged, unnamed piece at the centre rose to meet him.

Kael tensed, and I felt his breath hitch. His fingers dug into my hips like he felt the instant my power reached for him, woke for him.

And still, he held me like I was already his.

And for the first time since I’ve known Kael, I wanted to be his.