Elara POV
I couldn't stay in that room.
Not after the dream. Not after Kaelen's accusation. Not after seeing the frost words on my window.
I needed answers. Real ones. Not the half-truths Kaelen fed me. Not the seductive lies Theron whispered.
Mira found me pacing the hallway an hour before dawn.
"Can't sleep?" she asked.
"Can't think." I looked at her. "Is there a library here? Books about bond history?"
She studied me for a long moment. Then nodded.
"Follow me."
She led me through quiet corridors. Down stairs I hadn't seen before. The library was small. Hidden. Like the pack didn't want anyone finding it.
"Everything about bonds is in here," Mira said. "The truth and the lies. Good luck figuring out which is which."
She left me alone.
I was surrounded by old books when Dorian found me. Trying to find answers. Trying not to think about the dream. About Theron's hands on me. About how much I'd wanted it.
"Lady Elara."
I jumped. Turned. Dorian stood in the doorway. The vampire who'd brought me my mother's journal. Theron's strategist. His spy.
"What are you doing here?" I asked.
"The same thing you are. Looking for answers." He moved into the room. Calm. Confident. Like he belonged here even though wolves surrounded the mountain. "May I?"
He gestured to the chair across from me.
I nodded.
He sat. Looked at the books I'd piled on the table. Old. Crumbling. Some of them centuries old.
"Bond history," he said. Not a question. "You're trying to understand what you are."
"Can you blame me?"
"No." He leaned back. Studied me with those dark, intelligent eyes. "In fact, I came to help. Lord Theron wants you to have all the information. Not just what Kaelen chooses to share."
"Why would he help me?"
"Because you're valuable to him. And because..." He hesitated. "Because not everything you've been told is true."
My stomach tightened. "What do you mean?"
Dorian pulled a book from the pile. Old. The cover was worn leather. No title. He opened it carefully. The pages were yellow. Fragile.
"This is from the Archives of the First Council," he said. "Four hundred years old. Before the wars. Before the bond system became what it is now."
He turned pages slowly. Stopped on one with diagrams. Circles and lines connecting them. Symbols I didn't recognize.
"This is the original bond design," Dorian said. "Created by a council of wolves, vampires, and humans. It was meant to end wars. To create peace by linking souls across species lines."
"That's not what it does now."
"No. Because someone changed it." He turned more pages. Stopped on one covered in tight handwriting. "Lord Theron changed it. Four hundred years ago. He was young then. Ambitious. Brilliant. He saw how bonds could be used. Not just to connect people. But to channel power."
I stared at the page. At the writing that looked too neat. Too perfect.
"He weaponized love," I whispered.
"Yes." Dorian's voice was quiet. Sad. "He created a network. Bonds feeding into other bonds. All of them channeling power to a central point. The Ashen Gate."
The Ashen Gate. I'd heard that name before. In my mother's journal. In whispered conversations.
"What is the Ashen Gate?"
"A doorway. Between worlds. Between realities."
Dorian turned more pages. Showed me maps. Diagrams. "It requires massive amounts of power to open. Power that could only come from thousands of bonded souls. So Theron created the system. Made bonds seem like destiny. Like fate. When really, they were just fuel."
My hands clenched into fists. "And Kaelen knows this?"
"Kaelen suspects. But he doesn't have proof. The Archives are kept in Nightspire. Under Theron's control." Dorian closed the book. "Until now."
"Why are you showing me this?"
"Because you need to understand what you're fighting." He leaned forward. "You're not just a twin-flame. You're Phase One. The first step in Theron's plan to open the Gate."
Phase One. The words made me cold.
"What's the rest of the plan?"
"I don't know. Theron doesn't share everything. Even with me." Dorian's expression darkened. "But I know he's been working toward this for centuries. And I know you're crucial to it."
I wanted to ask more. Wanted to demand answers.
But Dorian's eyes shifted. Looked past me. His expression changed. Became careful.
"There's something else," he said. His voice dropped. "Something I shouldn't tell you. But I think you need to know."
"What?"
He reached into his coat. Pulled out a scroll. Old. The edges were burned.
"The prophecy. The one that supposedly predicted you. The twin-flame who would either save or destroy both kingdoms." He unrolled it carefully. "It's not a prophecy."
My breath stopped.
"What?"
"It's a spell. Written by Theron. Four hundred years ago. Disguised as a prophecy so no one would question it." He turned the scroll. Showed me the bottom. Where the writing changed. Became rushed. Desperate.
And there, in faded ink, was a signature.
Theron Nightshade
Below that, in smaller letters:
Phase One: Create twin-flame
The room spun. I gripped the table. Tried to breathe.
"He created me," I whispered. "Not my parents. Him. This was all his plan."
"Your parents tried to stop it," Dorian said quickly. "They learned what he was doing. Tried to break the spell. That's what Project Twin-Flame was really about. Not creating you. Saving you."
Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them away. Refused to cry.
"Does Kaelen know?"
"Not yet. But he will. After the trial. When the Moonfire reveals everything." Dorian rolled up the scroll. Handed it to me. "Keep this. Hide it. You'll need proof when the time comes."
I took it. My hands shook.
"Why are you helping me? Why betray Theron?"
Dorian's expression went dark. Haunted.
"Because I know what it's like to be used. To be bound to someone against your will."
He stood. "I was human once. A scholar. Theron turned me. Bound me to him with a coerced bond. I can't disobey direct orders. Can't leave. Can't be free. But I can do this. I can give you the truth he's hidden for centuries."
He moved to the door. Stopped.
"The trial starts in thirty minutes. Whatever the Moonfire shows you, remember this: you are not his creation. You are your parents' daughter. And you have the power to break what he built."
Then he was gone.
I sat alone in the library.
Staring at the scroll. At Theron's signature. At the proof that my entire existence was planned. Manufactured. Part of a centuries-old scheme.
Phase One: Create twin-flame.
I was Phase One.
The question was: what came next?
And could I stop it before it destroyed everything?
I tucked the scroll into my clothes. Stood.
Thirty minutes until the trial.
Thirty minutes until the Moonfire burned away all lies.
Including mine.