The black water hit my skin like needles of ice. I stepped through the curtain first, because the seal tasted my blood and purred. Ryan shoved me forward with one hand braced between my shoulder blades, the other still cradling Elias against his chest. The moment my palm touched the glowing membrane, green fire licked up my arm, welcoming, curious. It parted around me like silk.
Ryan followed.
The seal recognized Alpha in him and screamed. Runes flared white-hot. He staggered through with teeth bared, a roar ripping out of him that was more animal than man. The magic tried to peel the skin from his bones. Blood streamed from his nose, his ears, the corners of his eyes. On the far side he dropped to his knees, Elias sliding from his shoulder to the wet stone. Ryan stayed upright only because his arms locked around the King.
I caught them both before they fell.
The cavern beyond the waterfall opened into a cathedral of obsidian and moonlight. Columns of black glass rose into darkness. Braziers burned with violet fire that gave no heat. Thirteen women waited in a loose circle, cloaks the color of old bruises, faces hidden beneath hoods of raven feathers.
One stepped forward.
Silver hair spilled to her waist like liquid mercury. Her eyes were winter sky over a frozen lake—pale, depthless, ancient. When she smiled, the temperature dropped another ten degrees.
"Princess Aria Blackwood," she said, tasting every syllable. "And the Calder wolf who sold his soul for a stone he no longer possesses. How deliciously far you've fallen."
Ryan spat blood onto the stone. "Morwen."
"Still no manners." She tilted her head, gaze sliding to Elias. "And you bring us a dying king. A gift?"
"He lives," I said. My voice echoed strangely, as though the cavern itself were listening. "Name your price to keep him that way, and to give me the means to take my son back."
Morwen's smile widened. "Direct. I approve."
She walked a slow circle around us. The other witches never moved, but I felt their attention like fingers under my skin.
"Money bores me," she said. "Pretty gems bore me. Even the Tear of Lunas is a trinket compared to what I truly want."
She stopped in front of me, close enough that I smelled frost and crushed herbs on her breath.
"I want the law that brands us abominations burned from your kingdom's bones. When you sit the Blackwood throne—and you will, little queen, I have seen it—I want every statute that forbids our craft, every edict that drives us into mountains and graves, revoked. I want a covenant territory, marked and warded by your own royal hand, where no wolf may hunt us again. Swear it in blood that cannot lie, and I will give you what you need to tear Valen's ward apart like wet paper."
Ryan surged to his feet. "No. Aria—"
I silenced him with a look. Elias's pulse fluttered against my palm, thin as spider silk. Somewhere beyond these stones, Leo was running out of heartbeats.
I met Morwen's pale eyes. "You have my oath."
Ryan made a broken sound.
Morwen's expression never changed, but something vast moved behind her gaze—satisfaction, maybe triumph. She lifted one hand. A silver bowl appeared on the air, floating. Inside, dark liquid shimmered.
"Words first," she said. "Then blood."
I drew the knife from my belt. The blade trembled only once.
"I, Aria of the Blackwood line, heir to the throne and mother to its future, do swear by moon and blood and bone: when I take the crown, the laws that chain the Hollow Daughters and all witchkind within my realm will be struck down. A territory from the Ashfall River to the Broken Crest will be granted in perpetuity, inviolate, under my seal and my protection. Any wolf who spills witch blood there will answer to me with their life. This I bind with royal blood that cannot lie."
The cavern trembled. Violet fire roared higher.
Morwen's smile turned sharp enough to cut. "Kneel."
I knelt. Ryan tried to step forward; two witches moved like smoke and pinned his arms. He snarled but could not break their hold.
Morwen took my left hand and sliced a line across my palm. Blood welled, black in the strange light. She did the same to her own, then clasped our hands together over the bowl. Pain flared—white-hot, searing—but I did not pull away.
Her blood tasted of winter and old grief.
Power slammed into me, through me, rooting itself behind my ribs like a second heart. The oath locked around my bones with iron teeth. There would be no breaking it. Not ever.
Morwen released me. The bowl vanished.
"It is done," she said softly. "The monarchy will never be the same."
She turned away, already bored with ceremony. From the folds of her cloak she drew a small crystal vial no longer than my thumb. Inside swirled liquid the color of fresh blood under moonlight.
"Three drops on the ward stone," she instructed. "Speak the name of the one who set it—Valen Blackwood—and the ward will drink his strength instead of yours. The barrier will fall for one hour. No more."
She tossed the vial. I caught it one-handed.
"There is a back door," she continued. "A deer path behind the third brazier. It will take you to the Three Sisters Ridge before dawn if you do not stop. Go now. Your son's heartbeat is fading."
Ryan lifted Elias again. The witches released him. He looked at me with something close to fear.
I met his gaze without flinching. "I did what I had to."
"You rewrote a thousand years of law for—"
"For Leo," I said. "And for every child who will never have to choose between blood and freedom again."
Morwen laughed, low and approving. "The queen awakens. Run along, little wolves. Your war waits."
We ran.
The hidden path was narrow, slick with moss, but it was real. Moonlight filtered through cracks in the ceiling, enough to see by. Ryan took the lead, Elias cradled against his chest. I followed, the vial clenched in my fist, the taste of Morwen's blood still copper-bright on my tongue.
Behind us, the violet fires dimmed and the waterfall roared shut like a mouth.
Ahead, the ridge waited—and beyond it, my son.
I had just sold a piece of my kingdom's soul.
I would burn the rest to ash if it brought Leo home.