Kiara's Pov
The fortress is nothing like I imagined. It isn't grand or gilded. It looks like it was ripped out of the mountain itself, jagged and angry, scarred by fire and time. Wolves line the walls, their eyes glowing through the storm as if they've been waiting just for me.
The rogues shove me through the gates, mud sliding under my feet. Every face that turns to look at me makes my stomach twist. Men, women, even children—they all stare like I don't belong, and maybe I don't.
Grey doesn't speak. He doesn't look back. He walks ahead of us with his head high and shoulders squared, every inch of him screaming power. And when we reach the inner hall, he finally gestures, and the guards throw me inside.
The door slams shut.
The chamber is dim, lit by fire in the hearth and torches along the walls. Maps are pinned across one side, weapons along another. It feels less like a king's room and more like a warlord's den.
Grey shrugs off his cloak and sets it on the table, still refusing to look at me. I stand frozen near the door, soaked, shaking, my throat tight. The bond hums inside me, traitorous and hot, but he acts like he doesn't feel it at all.
Finally, he speaks. His voice is deep, calm, and colder than the storm outside.
"You're here because I need you."
Not you're mine. Not you're fated. Just I need you.
I flinch. "Why?"
He turns then, and for a moment I almost forget how to breathe. He's too perfect. Too sharp. Silver eyes, sharp jaw, mouth set in a cruel line. Handsome in a way that doesn't comfort, handsome in a way that hurts.
But there's no warmth in his stare. Only ice.
"Because," he says slowly, "you carry her."
The words knock the air from my lungs. "What?"
Grey steps closer, each movement controlled, deliberate. He doesn't tower over me so much as trap me in the weight of his presence.
"The spirit," he says. "The Moon Goddess gave you a piece of someone else. My Luna. My mate. The woman I loved before she was murdered. She lives inside you now."
My head spins. I stumble back until I hit the wall. "That's impossible."
His lips twitch in something that isn't quite a smile. "Do you think I can't feel her? Do you think I don't see it in your eyes?" His gaze cuts into me, sharp as claws. "Her soul clings to yours. That is the only reason you're breathing right now."
The bond between us throbs, desperate, hungry, but his words crush it.
"So this bond…" I whisper.
Grey's jaw tightens. "A mistake. An insult. I don't want it. I will never accept it."
The words hit harder than claws. I didn't ask for this, didn't even know I carried something that wasn't mine, but the rejection still stings like fire.
"Then why keep me alive?" My voice cracks despite me trying to sound strong.
His eyes flash, and for the first time, there's something in them other than cold—rage. Not at me. At someone else.
"Because you're going to help me get revenge," he says flatly. "Your bloodline, your spirit, your very existence… all of it is a weapon. And I will use it."
My stomach twists, the storm outside echoing the chaos inside me.
I want to scream at him. I want to claw at him, to tell him I'm not a tool, not a body he can use for vengeance. But the fire in his eyes makes my words stick in my throat.
"You're a monster," I whisper instead.
Grey's smile is bitter and humorless. "I know."
For a long moment, we just stare at each other, the fire cracking between us, the bond humming louder and louder until I want to tear my skin open just to silence it.
But Grey looks away first. He walks back to the table, his back to me now, as if I am nothing more than a burden dropped at his feet.
"You will stay here," he says. "You will obey my orders. And when the time comes, you will help me end the one who destroyed her. That is your only purpose to me."
Something inside me snaps. "And if I refuse?"
He doesn't turn around. "You won't."
The silence that follows is worse than the storm outside.
I press my back to the wall, arms wrapped around myself, and for the first time since the rogues took me, I let the tears slip down my cheeks. Not loud, not broken, just silent.
Because he's right.
The bond ties me to him no matter how much he denies it. And deep inside, beneath the grief and pain