The ritual bound them fully.
Selene's blood carved a sigil in the
air, one that shimmered in gold and crimson. Lucien's hands trembled as he
traced it with his own blood, and Ronan knelt beside them, submitting not to
weakness—but to fate.
Their souls locked in a triad tether:
vampire, wolf, witch.
It was ecstasy. It was torment.
When the bond sealed, it didn't just
link their magic.
It made their desire a shared flame.
Now, when one ached, the others
burned.
And Selene… was on fire.