Elara's POV
It feels like a wall of knives is hitting me with the death frost.
As ice rushes through me, every cell in my body screams. That wasn't how Ronan touched me before—gentle cold that kept my fire in check. This is how strong the evil is; it's trying to freeze me from the inside out.
I should die right away. Every other person who touched this curse did.
I used to be human, but now I'm not.
The Moon The blessed blood in my veins starts to burn, like silver fire meeting dangerous ice. They crash into each other inside me like two storms vying for power. My bones feel like they're breaking. My heart stutters, stops, starts again.
Through the pain, I reach Ronan.
His body is covered in frost, his skin going blue-white. His eyes are closed. The curse is eating him alive, and through our tie, I feel him slipping away.
"No," I gasp, throwing my arms around him. "You don't get to die. Not after everything. Not after dragging me into this crazy world and making me care about you!"
The curse pushes harder, trying to freeze us both.
But something strange happens.
Where my body touches his, the ice starts to melt. Not from heat—from balance. My silver fire doesn't fight his frost anymore. It merges with it, making something new. Something that glows white-gold instead of silver or blue.
The bond mark on my chest bursts with light.
Ronan's eyes snap open. "Elara, what are you—"
"Saving us," I cut him off. "Together. Like you said. We balance each other."
I press my bright palm against his chest, right over his bond mark. The curse inside him reaches for me, hungry and desperate. I let it come.
It pours into me like a flood—thirty years of collected curse magic, all the pain and death and cold that's been eating Ronan alive. It fills me up until I think I'll burst.
But I don't burst.
The Moon Blessed blood in my veins changes it. Takes the killing curse and reshapes it into something else. Something strong but not deadly. Wild but not damaging.
Around us, the control spell shatters.
The purple figures crack and fade. The unseen walls disappear. The rogues caught in the spell scatter, running from the power pouring off us.
"Impossible," Morgana breathes, and for the first time, she looks shocked. "The curse should be eating you both. How are you—"
"Because she's not just Moon Blessed," Luna interrupts, looking at me with wide eyes. "Look at her mark."
I glance down. The frost-and-thorn mark on my chest is changing. New patterns appear—silver flames weaving between the ice, creating something intricate and beautiful and totally unique.
"A true mate bond," Ash says softly. "I've only seen it in ancient books. When two souls are perfectly matched, when neither dominates the other, when they make something new together instead of one consuming the other."
"That's impossible," Cassius snarls from his frozen cage. "True mate bonds haven't existed for ages. They require perfect matching. Perfect trust. Perfect—"
"Love," Ronan finishes, his voice rough. His hand cups my face, and his touch is warm now. Not freezing. Not burning. Just right. "She loves me enough to die for me. I love her enough to let her try."
"I never said I love you," I protest weakly.
His smile is stunning. "You didn't have to. I felt it through the link."
My face burns. "That's cheating."
"That's fate."
He kisses me.
The world bursts with light.
Not silver or blue or purple—but every color at once. The curse, the bond, the Moon Blessed blood, everything merges and changes. My body completes the shift in a rush of power that doesn't hurt this time.
When the light fades, I'm standing on four paws.
I'm a cat.
But not like the others. My hair is white with silver-and-blue patterns that match the mark on my chest—on Ronan's chest. I'm smaller than the pack wolves but faster, I can tell intuitively. More agile.
And I can still think like a person.
"Elara?" Ronan's voice in my head makes me jump. "Can you hear me?"
"You're in my brain!" I yelp—except it comes out as a shocked bark.
"That's how pack ties work. We can talk telepathically in wolf form." His voice sounds amused and relieved and proud all at once. "You did it. You actually broke the curse."
"We broke it," I correct. "Together."
Luna shifts into her wolf form and approaches carefully. She's beautiful—silver fur that matches her hair, ice-blue eyes sharp with intelligence. "Sister," she says in my mind, and the word makes my throat tight. "Welcome to the pack."
Before I can reply, Ash's urgent voice cuts through. "Celebration later. Hunters now. They're surrounding the building."
He's right. Through my new wolf hearing, I pick up footsteps. Lots of them. Guns being loaded. Someone giving orders.
"How many?" Ronan asks, changing into his wolf form beside me. He's massive—pure black with frost patterns in his fur and those stunning silver eyes.
"Twenty. Maybe more." Ash's wolf form is rust-red and covered in scars. "They've got silver bullets and something else. Something that smells like—"
"Wolfsbane gas," Morgana finishes quietly. She's still in human form, unbothered by the chaos. "Cassius's backup plan. If the imprisonment spell didn't kill you, the hunters would finish the job." She studies her nails. "Very thorough, that one."
"You knew about this?" Luna snarls.
"I know about everything, dear. I'm a witch. It's my job."
Ronan stalks toward Morgana, lips pulled back to show teeth. "Why are you really here? You said you were done playing shepherd. But you stayed. You watched. You wanted to see if we'd win."
Morgana's smile is mysterious. "Perhaps I'm interested. Perhaps I'm invested. Perhaps I made a promise to Grace thirty years ago to protect her daughter, and I keep my promises." Her purple eyes meet mine. "Or perhaps I'm here because what happens next is far more dangerous than breaking a curse."
"What happens next?" I demand.
"You broke the curse, yes. But in doing so, you've announced your presence to every supernatural creature within a hundred miles. A true mate bond. A Moon Blessed wolf. An Alpha who's no longer weakening." Morgana's face turns serious. "You just became the most valuable—and most hunted—couple in the werewolf world. Every pack that wants power, every witch that wants blood, every hunter that wants glory—they're all coming for you."
"Let them come," Ronan growls.
"Oh, they will." Morgana points toward the door. "Starting with them."
The shop's front door bursts inward.
But it's not hunters who enter.
It's wolves. Dozens of them in their animal forms, all wearing silver collars that glow with magic. Their eyes are blank, controlled. Behind them walks a man in an expensive suit, his smile cold and calculating.
"Hello, nephew," the man says to Ronan. "I'm Marcus Chen. Well, Marcus Chen is my human name. My real name is Marcus Blackmoor. Your father's brother. Your uncle." His smile widens. "And the true heir to the Northern Pack."
Ronan's shock ripples through our link.
"Surprised?" Marcus continues. "Your father exiled me forty years ago for trying to sell pack secrets to hunts. But I've been careful. Building my human kingdom. Waiting for the curse to weaken you enough to take what's mine." His eyes land on me. "And then you had to go and break the curse. Which means I need a new plan."
He snaps his fingers.
The controlled wolves rush forward.
"Kill the Alpha," Marcus says. "Capture the girl. She's worth more alive."
Everything explodes into chaos again.
Ronan's pack fights the controlled wolves, but they're outnumbered and tired from the earlier battles. Luna takes down three but gets pinned by five more. Ash is bleeding, fighting fiercely.
Ronan positions himself in front of me, ready to die shielding me again.
"No," I bark through the pack bond. "No more protecting. We fight together."
"Elara—"
"TOGETHER."
I leap past him, right into the mass of controlled wolves. My new wolf body moves on instinct—dodge, hit, bite. I'm smaller but faster, and the silver fire inside me makes my strikes hit harder than they should.
But there are too many.
One gets past my barriers, jaws closing around my back leg. Pain bursts through me. Through the bond, Ronan roars and goes berserk, ripping through wolves to reach me.
That's when Marcus makes his move.
He pulls out a gun—not with regular bullets or even silver ones. The bullets glow with the same power as the wolf collars.
"Control bullets," Morgana says quickly. "If he hits you with one, you'll become his puppet."
Marcus aims.
Not at me.
At Ronan.
"NO!" I throw myself in front of Ronan just as Marcus fires.
The bullet hits me in the chest.
Magic bursts through me—not curse magic this time, but something worse. Something that wraps around my head like chains, trying to force me into submission. Trying to make me follow Marcus.
Through the bond, I feel Ronan's fear.