Our blood-oath ceremony was on the horizon.

But my fated mate, Darius, told me he had to forge a blood bond with another woman.

Livia.

He claimed her life force was unraveling. That without his blood, she would fade to nothing.

I fought him. But the next day, he moved Livia directly into the Prince's Chambers in the Coven’s castle.

That was the suite reserved for the future Prince’s mate.

My suite.

He tried to soothe me, sinking to his knees, his crimson eyes pleading. “Once she’s stable, I swear I’ll break the bond. You are my only eternity. You always will be.”

But then Livia found me.

She showed me the fresh, golden mark on her wrist—the symbol of an Eternal Bond.

They had already completed the sacred rite. Long before Darius ever confessed to me.

My heart shattered to ash.

I dragged my nail across the calendar, carving a vicious X over the date that was supposed to be our blood-oath ceremony.

Then I opened the encrypted message from the Vienna Coven Academy.

“I accept. I’ll leave on the day of our ceremony.”

Right before our blood-oath ceremony, my mate, Darius, said he needed to forge a blood bond with another woman. Livia—the woman who had supposedly saved his life.

“I have to forge a temporary, life-sharing bond with Livia. She’s dying, Isolde. Her life source is failing.”

Darius’s gaze was heavy.

My hands stilled over the Eternal Blood.

The potion was for our ceremony. It was meant to ensure the soul-link between fated mates would never fray.

And now, he was asking me to accept him bonding with someone else.

My fingertips began to tremble.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“This isn't a request, Isolde.” His voice, laced with the authority of a Prince, echoed in the vast alchemy lab. “It’s already done, Isolde. I forged the bond this morning. In the forgotten sanctuary.”

“In the sanctuary…” My hand shook so violently the potion vial slipped and shattered on the stone floor. “That’s the place for our Eternal Vow!”

“I owe her my life.”

“I don’t care what you owe her!” My voice cracked like a whip. “A blood bond is sacred, Darius! It was supposed to be for us—”

“One year,” he cut me off, his bloodshot eyes wide with disbelief. “A life is on the line,” he snarled. “How can you not understand?”

“I promise, I’ll break it when the term is up. She’ll live, and you will still be my one and only eternal mate.”

I glared at him, my jaw tight. “I don’t agree. Not unless you want to tear our twin soul bond apart.”

Darius’s eyes finally turned to ice. “This isn’t a request, Isolde. A life is on the line. Don’t make me use my princely command.”

He promised, “It’s just a temporary bond. It won’t affect our link. In a year, everything will be back to normal.”

Then he turned in a flash of anger, his body dissolving into a blur of shadow at the door and vanishing down the hall.

A second later, the door slammed shut behind him, moved by an unseen force.

The oppressive weight of his princely fury lingered long after he was gone.

The next day, I stood at the entrance of the Coven’s castle. A black, stretch limousine glided silently to the curb.

My blood ran cold.

Darius got out of the passenger side and gently helped a woman so delicate, so fragile, from the car.

Livia.

She was so pale, it looked like a stiff night breeze could blow her away.

Darius’s arm was wrapped around her waist. The possessive way he held her froze the blood in my veins.

“Careful on the steps,” he said, his voice so gentle it made me want to scream.

It was a tone he had never once used with me.

I watched them walk into the building and step into the antique elevator reserved only for the Prince.

It went straight to the top floor.

To the Prince’s Chambers, the suite reserved only for the future Prince’s mate.

My suite.

Three hours later, Darius returned to our chambers.

I was waiting on the sofa, clutching a glass of long-cold wine.

“Is she settled?” My voice was terrifyingly calm.

Darius took off his jacket. “The blood-healer said she needs absolute quiet.”

“So you put her on the top floor.”

“It has the best defensive wards,” he said, avoiding my eyes. “It’s just temporary.”

I stood and walked slowly toward him.

“Darius, where were you last night?”

He stiffened for a second. “Dealing with the Hunter conflict. I told you.”

“All night?”

“It was more complicated than I expected.”

I moved closer, close enough to smell another woman on him—not on his clothes, but woven into his very soul.

The mixed soul-resonance was like a poison-tipped silver needle, stabbing straight through our soul-link.

A sharp, tearing pain shot through my soul, and I nearly buckled.

It wasn’t just Livia’s scent. It was deeper, more entwined.

It was the kind of soul-deep resonance that only came from an Eternal Bond.

He had lied.

He wasn’t dealing with a conflict last night.

He was completing the damned bond with her.

And now, he was trying to ask my permission for something he’d already done.

“Do you even still need my permission?” I stepped back, fighting the burn in my eyes.

“You have to understand, Isolde. A life is at stake.” Darius moved toward me, reaching for my hand.

“You’re my fated mate,” he insisted, as if that explained everything. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

I snatched my hand back. “I need more time.”

“There is no time. She won’t last much longer.”

Just then, the private elevator to the penthouse suite opened.

Livia stepped out, draped in one of my white silk robes.

Her cheeks held a sickly flush, but her eyes were unnervingly bright.

She walked straight to Darius, draping herself against his chest like a vine.

“Thank you, Darius,” she said, her voice weak but sweet, her eyes locked on me. “I feel so much stronger now.”

I didn’t sleep.

After Livia returned to the Prince’s Chambers, Darius went up with her.

“Her soul is still unstable,” was the only explanation he gave.

I sat in our empty suite, the feeling of their soul-merge replaying in my mind.

The fracture in our soul-link ached, a constant, painful reminder.

Then I remembered.

Three weeks ago.

That night.

Darius had said he was heading out to deal with a border skirmish with the Hunters. He didn't come back until the next morning.

I was so relieved when he finally returned.

His clothes carried the faint, ritualistic scent of myrrh, ancient wood, and consecrated earth—the unmistakable scent of a blood-oath rite.

I’d even asked him, “Were you at the sanctuary?”

He said, “Just passing by.”

I never imagined he would betray me. Betray our eternity.

Now I understood.

He had forged the Eternal Bond with Livia that night.

And I, like a fool, had been sitting here worried sick about him.

At dawn, my encrypted comm buzzed.

A message from Vienna.

“Dear Miss Isolde, we formally invite you to join our research project on primal blood magic. It is the highest honor for a blood-healer and the perfect place for your talents. Should you be interested, we hope for a reply within the week.”

I stared at the screen.

It was the opportunity I had dreamed of for centuries.

And it was my only way out.

When Darius walked in, I was packing my alchemy instruments.

“What are you doing?”

“Packing my things,” I said without looking up. “Since the Prince’s Chambers have a new occupant, I don’t want to be in the way.”

“Isolde, listen to me—”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” I stood up and met his gaze. “The blood-oath ceremony,” I stated, my voice dangerously calm, “is cancelled.”

The color drained from Darius’s face.

“You can’t do that.”

“I can,” I said, turning back to my packing. “I won’t be bound to a Prince who’s already given his Eternal Bond to another.”

“I told you, it’s temporary!” he roared, grabbing my arm. “I’ll break it in a year!”

“And then what?” I shook him off. “You think I’ll ever trust you again?”

A flicker of pain crossed Darius’s eyes. “Her life source is failing, Isolde. I can’t just watch her die.”

“Why?” I demanded. “Because you owe her? Owe her for what?”

Darius fell silent, his lips a hard, thin line.

“If you won’t tell me, then we have nothing to talk about.” I started for the door.

“Wait!” Darius stumbled after me, and his tall frame sank to one knee before me. “I swear to you, in one year, I will give you the grandest ceremony this continent has ever seen. All the ancient houses will be there to witness it.”

I looked at him, standing there.

I felt no pity. Only a bitter, absurd sense of injustice.

Were our five hundred years together, our fated bond, really going to end over a lie?

Was I really going to give up this easily?

In that moment of hesitation, the elevator doors opened.

Livia stepped out.

Seeing Darius, a fleeting, triumphant smirk crossed her lips.

She walked right up to me and deliberately pulled open the collar of her robe.

“Isolde,” she said softly, her voice full of fake concern, “I know you’re a blood-healer, too. Darius’s princely power is so strong. I’ve felt so much better since we forged the bond, but… it left this brand on me. Can you tell me if it looks right? As a healer, you would know.”

I followed her finger.

To Darius’s chest.

There, where a sacred sigil meant for me should have been, was an unholy mark.

It was more than a mark; it was a soul-brand, glowing with a faint light that repulsed me on instinct.

The center of the ancient family sigil, which should have been blank, waiting for my name to be inscribed during our ceremony…

Now had a name tattooed in arcane ink:

Livia.

A mark like that would take at least three weeks to settle.

I looked up, my eyes ice-cold, and threw a betrothal token I had made for him at his feet.

“Congratulations,” my voice was glacially cold. “It seems this ‘mark’ was made long before your ‘temporary bond.’”

Then, without a second glance at his shocked and questioning face, I walked back to my room.

I looked at the calendar, at the bright red circle around the date of our blood-oath ceremony.

Now, it was my departure date.

Thirteen days until my escape.

I opened the parchment message from Vienna and hit reply.

“I accept your offer.”

Darius didn’t come back to our chambers that night.

I knew where he was.

The next morning, I opened the Coven’s internal feed.

The top post was a new announcement.

Prince Darius has taken a priceless Soul-Crystal from the Coven’s vault to maintain his blood bond with Livia.

The comments exploded.

“Our Prince forged an Eternal Bond with someone else?”

“But isn’t Isolde his fated mate?”

“I heard that woman, Livia, moved into the Prince’s Chambers.”

“Isn’t the blood-oath ceremony next week?”

I shut off the comm.

At noon, I met my best friend, Chloe.

“You what?” Chloe’s voice was so sharp it nearly shattered her wine glass. “You’re calling off the ceremony?”

“That’s right.”

“Are you insane? He’s your fated mate!”

“A fated mate doesn’t forge an Eternal Bond with someone else right before the ceremony,” I said calmly, sipping my blood-substitute. “And he certainly doesn’t get another woman’s name tattooed on the sacred sigil meant for me.”

Chloe gasped. “The sacred sigil?”

I slid my phone across the table, showing her the picture I’d taken of the sigil on Darius’s chest.

“That manipulative bitch!” Chloe slammed her hand on the table. “She played you!”

“Maybe,” I shrugged. “But it doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Isolde, you can’t just give up. Darius loves you.”

“Loves me?” I gave a bitter laugh. “Does someone who loves you complete an Eternal Bond with another woman behind your back?”

Chloe fell silent.

“I’ve accepted the offer from the Vienna Academy.” I said, standing.

“So soon?”

“If I stay any longer,” I told her, “I’m afraid I’ll do something I won’t regret.”

At eleven that night, I returned to our suite after an ancient texts symposium.

The gathering had been a success.

I’d met several vampires from Europe, including a few Princes I’d never seen before.

When the elevator doors opened, Darius was standing there.

His eyes were cold, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Where were you?”

“A symposium.”

“With who?” he pressed.

“Some colleagues.”

Darius stalked toward me like a predator closing in on its prey. “Don’t lie to me. I can smell another man on your soul. A Prince.”

His hand shot out, cupping my chin and forcing my head up, his lips almost touching mine.

It was a punishing, possessive gesture.

“So what if you can?” I stared right back at him.

A dangerous light flashed in his eyes. “Get away from him,” he snarled, his eyes flashing. “And go wash that Prince’s stench off you before you come near me again.”

“You have no right to order me around.”

“I am your fated mate!”

“No, you’re not,” I pushed him away and walked past him. “You’re Livia’s.”

I headed for our chambers, Darius close behind.

But he didn’t argue. He went straight to the armchair by the fireplace, sat down, and closed his eyes.

I knew what he was doing.

A mental link.

His expression softened, and through our strained bond, I could feel his whispered thoughts.

To Livia.

Our power will grow stronger. Healthier.

Our power.

He was already looking forward to it.

I turned to go back to my room.

“Isolde.”

His voice stopped me.

“There’s something I need to talk to you about. Regarding the ceremony.”