Kieran woke to softness.
That was his first coherent thought. After years of sleeping on hunter barracks' standard-issue beds—designed for function, not comfort—and before that, the orphanage cots, his body recognized luxury when it felt it.
Silk sheets. Down pillows. A mattress that somehow managed to be both firm and yielding in all the right places.
His second thought was: This is wrong.
His eyes snapped open.
The room was massive. Cathedral ceilings with exposed wooden beams. Stone walls covered in rich tapestries. Furniture that looked hand-carved and probably cost more than Kieran had earned in his entire life. A fireplace big enough to stand in, currently crackling with flames that cast dancing shadows across everything.
Medieval meets modern luxury.
And definitely not a hunter safehouse.
Memory crashed back. The warehouse. The vampires. The explosion of the doors. And—
"Mine. My mate."
Kieran bolted upright, ignoring the protest from his ribs. His hands flew to his throat, checking for bite marks.
Nothing. His skin was smooth, unmarked.
He looked down at himself. Someone had changed his clothes. His blood-stained, torn hunter's uniform was gone, replaced with loose black pants and a shirt made of fabric so fine it felt like water against his skin.
His weapons were gone too. Of course they were.
Panic started to claw at his chest. Where was he? Who had undressed him? And where the hell was—
"You're awake."
Kieran's head whipped toward the voice.
The Beast King sat in a chair near the fireplace, so still that Kieran hadn't noticed him in his initial scan of the room. He looked... different in the firelight. Less terrifying than he had in the warehouse. More human.
But those eyes—silver and gold, glowing softly—gave away his true nature.
"Where am I?" Kieran demanded, pleased that his voice came out steady despite the fear trying to strangle him.
"Shadowkeep. My home." The Beast King's voice was calmer now, less of that primal growl from before. "You're safe here."
"Safe?" Kieran laughed, sharp and bitter. "I've been kidnapped by a—by whatever you are—and you expect me to feel safe?"
Something flickered across the Beast King's face. Hurt? No, that couldn't be right. Monsters didn't feel hurt.
"I am Rhydian Blackthorn," he said quietly. "King of the Shadowlands. Protector of outcasts. And..." He paused, his jaw tightening. "Your mate."
There it was again. That word. The one that made Kieran's insides twist with horror and something else he refused to acknowledge.
"That's impossible." Kieran swung his legs off the bed, noting absently that his ribs didn't hurt anymore. How long had he been unconscious? "I'm human. Humans can't have mates."
"You're not human."
The words hung in the air between them like a guillotine blade.
"Yes, I am," Kieran insisted, even as doubt crept in. The bond. The way power had flooded through him when they touched. The things he'd always been able to do that other hunters couldn't—faster healing, enhanced senses beyond what the serum should provide. "I'm human."
Rhydian stood, and Kieran was reminded viscerally of just how large he was. Not bulky, but tall and broad and built like he could break Kieran in half without effort.
He approached the bed slowly, like approaching a wild animal. "May I?"
"May you what?"
"Touch you. I need to show you something."
Every instinct Kieran had screamed at him to refuse. But curiosity—and something deeper, something that resonated with that damned bond—made him nod.
Rhydian's hand reached out, palm up. An offering, not a demand.
Kieran stared at it. Clawed fingers. Skin that was too pale. The hand of a predator.
Don't do it. Don't—
He placed his hand in Rhydian's.
The bond flared to life instantly. Not painful this time, but... warm. Like coming home after being lost in the cold. Magic flowed between them, and Kieran could feel Rhydian's presence in his mind—not invasive, just there. A constant awareness that he was no longer alone inside his own head.
"Look," Rhydian murmured.
Kieran looked down at their joined hands—and gasped.
His skin was glowing. A soft silver light emanating from beneath the surface, forming patterns. Runes. Ancient symbols that he'd only seen in the oldest hunter texts, the ones locked away in the Guild's vault.
"What..." He tried to pull his hand away, but Rhydian held firm.
"These are bloodline marks," Rhydian explained softly. "They appear when supernatural beings touch their fated mate. They're showing your true heritage."
"I don't have a heritage. I'm—"
"Your parents were Jonathan and Elizabeth Ashford, correct?"
The mention of his parents made Kieran's chest tight. "How do you know that?"
"Jonathan Ashford was one of the most famous vampire hunters of his generation. Everyone in the supernatural world knew his name." Rhydian's thumb traced one of the glowing marks on Kieran's skin. "But what the hunter records don't say is that Jonathan wasn't fully human. His great-grandmother was a moon fae."
Kieran's world tilted. "That's... that's not possible. The Guild tests everyone. If I had fae blood, they would have found it."
"Fae blood can hide. Especially moon fae—their magic is subtle, designed to conceal." Rhydian's silver eye seemed to glow brighter. "Your enhanced abilities. The way you heal faster than other hunters. Your night vision. Those aren't from the serum, Kieran. They're from your bloodline."
No. No, this couldn't be true. His entire life, his entire identity was built on being human. On being the son of hunters, trained to kill monsters. If he was part monster himself—
"I'm not—I can't be—" His breathing was coming faster now, panic clawing its way up his throat.
Rhydian's free hand cupped his face, gentle despite those claws. "Breathe," he commanded, and somehow the word carried power that forced Kieran's lungs to obey. "You're still you. Nothing has changed except your understanding."
"Everything has changed!" Kieran jerked away, the glow fading as soon as contact broke. "If the Guild finds out, they'll—"
He stopped. Because he knew exactly what they'd do. He'd seen it happen to other hunters who'd been discovered to have non-human blood. Didn't matter that they'd served faithfully for years. Didn't matter that they'd killed more vampires than anyone.
Contaminated. That's what they'd be labeled.
And contaminated hunters were eliminated.
"They won't find out," Rhydian said firmly. "You're under my protection now. No one touches you without going through me first."
"I don't want your protection!" Kieran stood, needing distance. "I want my life back. My mission. My—" His voice cracked. "Everything I believed about myself."
Silence fell between them.
Rhydian moved to the window, giving Kieran space. In the firelight, his profile was sharp and regal. A king every inch, despite—or perhaps because of—the inhuman features.
"I didn't ask for this either," Rhydian said quietly. "The mating bond. I've lived for five hundred years without a mate. I'd made peace with the idea that I might never find them."
Five hundred years. Gods.
"Then why now? Why me?"
"Fate doesn't ask permission." Rhydian's hands clenched on the windowsill. "The bond chooses who it chooses. And it chose us."
"I reject it."
Rhydian turned back to him, something dangerous flashing in those mismatched eyes. "You can't reject a fated bond."
"Watch me."
"Kieran—"
"No." Kieran moved toward the door. "I don't care about fate or bonds or whatever supernatural bullshit you're selling. I'm a hunter. I kill your kind. That's who I am. That's what I do. And I'm not going to—"
He tried the door handle. Locked.
Of course it was.
"Let me out."
"No."
Kieran spun, anger replacing fear. "You can't keep me prisoner."
"I can, and I will." Rhydian's voice hardened. "There's a war coming, Kieran. The vampires are mobilizing. The old treaties are falling apart. Your Guild is about to be caught in the middle of something they don't understand and can't fight."
"Then I need to warn them!"
"They won't believe you. And even if they did..." Rhydian's expression turned grim. "The vampire lords have infiltrated the Guild's highest ranks. Going back means walking into a trap."
Ice flooded Kieran's veins. "What are you talking about?"
"Why do you think you were sent after Viktor's nest alone? A nest that intelligence said had only two vampires, when there were actually four?" Rhydian moved closer. "Someone wanted you dead, Kieran. Someone with access to Guild mission assignments."
No. That couldn't be right. The Guild was his home. His family. They wouldn't—
But even as he thought it, doubts crept in. The mission had seemed off. The intel too clean. The location too convenient.
"You're lying," he said, but his voice lacked conviction.
"Am I?" Rhydian stopped a few feet away. "Deep down, you know something was wrong. Your instincts were screaming at you. That's why you went in expecting a trap."
He had. Kieran had felt it, that wrongness that experienced hunters learned to trust. But he'd gone anyway because—
Because he'd thought maybe this time, maybe this mission, he'd find information about Marcellus. About the vampire who'd killed his parents.
"Why would the Guild want me dead?"
"I don't know yet," Rhydian admitted. "But I intend to find out. And in the meantime, you're staying here where you're safe."
"I'm not safe anywhere near you!" Kieran's voice rose. "You're a monster. A killer. Everything I've been trained to destroy!"
The words hit their mark. Rhydian flinched, actually flinched, and Kieran felt an echo of pain through the bond that wasn't his own.
Good, he thought viciously. Let it hurt.
But the satisfaction was hollow.
"You're right," Rhydian said softly, and there was something broken in his voice. "I am a monster. I've killed more people than you can imagine. Done things that would haunt your nightmares. I don't deserve a mate, let alone one as pure as you."
Pure. The word was laughable.
"But the bond doesn't care about deserving," Rhydian continued. "It simply is. And whether you accept it or not, whether you hate me or not, I will protect you. Because that's what mates do."
He moved toward the door, unlocking it with a touch. "You're free to explore the keep. My people have been instructed not to harm you. There are guards, but they're for your safety, not to imprison you."
He paused in the doorway. "Dinner is in two hours. I hope you'll join me. We have much to discuss about the war that's coming."
Then he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.
Kieran stood alone in the too-large room, his mind reeling.
Fae blood. A mating bond. Traitors in the Guild. War.
And underneath it all, a terrifying truth he didn't want to acknowledge:
When Rhydian had touched him, when the bond had flared between them—
It had felt right.