The chambers Adam led her to were nothing like Eleanor expected.
Not savage.
Not bleak.
Not the lair of some monster.
They were warm — lit by moon crystals, scented with cedar and smoke, filled with fur-lined chairs and shelves stacked with leather-bound histories of the Nightfang line.
But she barely saw any of it.
Her pulse hammered as the heavy door closed behind them with a deep finality.
Alone.
The bond crackled through the air, an unsung storm.
Adam stood with his back to her for several seconds, shoulders rising and falling with controlled breaths. She sensed the war inside him — the wolf pacing, snarling, confused, wanting to claim, wanting to destroy.
At last, he did.
"You planned to kill me," he said.
Not an accusation.
A fact.
Eleanor's fingers drifted toward the hidden slit in her sleeve. The dagger waited — silver, blessed, crafted specifically to kill alphas.
"Are you going to deny it?" Adam asked.
She raised her chin. "No."
His eyes flashed gold.
"Then do it."
The words struck her like a blow.
Eleanor blinked. "What?"
Adam stepped forward slowly, unbuttoning the top of his ceremonial cloak. It slid off his shoulders and onto the floor, revealing the hard lines of muscle beneath a fitted black shirt that clung to him like a second skin. He stalked with a predator's gait close to her.
"Do it," he repeated, voice low. "Kill me. End the threat. Fulfill your father's command."
Her heart twisted. "You don't think I will?"
"I think," Adam murmured, stepping close enough that his breath warmed her jaw, "you're not as cold as he made you."
Her mouth ran dry.
"Try," he whispered. "Let's see what the bond does."
The bond.
Damn him.
Her fingers closed around the dagger. Slowly. Quietly. Her breath steady — the rhythm drilled into her by years of training.
One step. Taking her closer to him.
Another.
Adam didn't stir.
He just watched her with his steady, burning gold eyes.
"You aren't afraid of me," she said.
He leaned in, brushing a stray curl behind her ear. His touch was softer than it should've been — soft enough to make her knees weaken.
He whispered, "I'm scared of losing control with you.
The room spun for half a second.
Back, he stepped.
"Do it, Eleanor."
She exhaled.
And struck.
The dagger flashed-a streak of silver lightning aimed straight for his heart.
Quick. Accurate. Ideal.
She had killed alphas before.
She knew the angle, the force, the exact point to slip between ribs. It should have been over in a heartbeat.
But just as the dagger's pointed tip touched Adam's chest—
—A violent, searing pain ripped through Eleanor's own ribcage.
She gasped, staggering backward as agony exploded in her body, burning along the bond, stopping her hand mid-strike.
Adam hadn't touched her.
He hadn't needed to.
The bond had.
Her dagger clattered to the ground.
Eleanor dropped to one knee, clutching her chest, breath ripped from her lungs. The pain was unlike anything she'd ever imagined — as if stabbing him meant stabbing herself.
Adam knelt in front of her, his fingers gently lifting her chin.
"Now you understand," he murmured. "Our souls are tethered, bonded. If you kill me, you die."
Eleanor stared at him, appalled.
He brushed his thumb across her cheek, wiping away a tear she hadn't realized had fallen.
"You can't kill me," he said softly, "even if you want to."
She jerked away, fury rising like flame.
"This wasn't supposed to happen!"
"Fate rarely asks permission."
She stood up, pacing, shaking, with the echo of pain still thundering through her bones.
He watched her with an unaccountable mixture of anger and sympathy.
"You weren't raised to believe in mates," Adam said. "Your father trained you to be a weapon. Nothing more."
She glared at him. "Don't pretend you know anything about my father."
"Oh, I know enough," Adam replied, stepping closer. "And I know he will use you again. Even now."
Eleanor froze.
Adam saw it in her eyes.
"You didn't come here alone," he said quietly. "Did you?"
A silence which was assurance enough.
Adam exhaled, tension rolling through his shoulders. "If your father believes I'm bound to you, he will try to take you back. To control you. To use you as leverage."
Eleanor's voice was barely above a whisper.
"He already is."
Adam moved so slowly, she barely noticed until his hand rested on her waist.
She tensed.
He leaned in, his forehead brushing hers.
"You're mine now," he said softly. "And I protect what's mine."
Her heart stuttered.
"Don't twist this," she whispered. "You don't know me."
His voice went darker. "I know enough."
He lifted her chin with two fingers.
"The bond forced your hand," he murmured. "But what comes next… that's choice."
She should not have wanted him that close.
She shouldn't have wanted him in the least.
But her body leaned toward him, drawn by something ancient and magnetic. His lips hovered inches from hers, breath mingling, heat coiling between them like wildfire.
"Why didn't you kill me the moment you knew?" she whispered.
Adam's eyes fell to her mouth.
"Because," he said, voice rough, "I hadn't decided if I want to punish you…"
His hand traced her waist, slow, deliberate.
"…or kiss you."
Her breathing shook.
He leaned in, lips brushing hers once — barely a touch, but enough to make her entire body burn.
Then—
A distant explosion rattled the windows.
Eleanor jerked back.
Adam's expression turned lethal instantly.
"That was the east tower."
Her blood ran cold.
"The east tower," she whispered, "is where… the Thorne scouts were stationed."
Adam growled, eyes flaring gold.
"Your father is making his move."
Eleanor grabbed her dagger.
Adam shifted, bones cracking, muscles twisting, fur bursting through skin — the transformation fast and violent.
Not a wolf.
A beast.
Her mate.
"Stay behind me," his mind-voice growled through the bond. Eleanor swallowed hard.
"Not a chance."
And together — assassin and Alpha, enemies bound by fate — they ran toward the battle that would change everything.