Crimson Vows.

The Vireya estate was quiet; too quiet. There was not even the sound of playing children…even the animals were silent, like they could smell the sadness in the air.

Ronan stood alone in the eastern courtyard, sword in hand, striking at nothing. His breaths were sharp, shallow, fogging in the morning chill. He hadn't slept in days, not since Selene's parents left for the binding ceremony. He hadn't gone back to his clan either.

He'd begged to go with them—offered to be part of the binding envoy—but the council had denied his request.

"Only blood Vireya and select guards," they'd said. "You are not family."

The words had stung more than he let on. Not family. Despite all the years he'd fought beside Selene, trained with her, bled for her… loved her. Not family.

He'd tried to console himself with logic. She wouldn't go through with the binding, she hated vampires…she hated Kaelen. She wouldn't, no she couldn't let it end happen.

But days passed. And his gut twisted tighter with each sunrise.

That morning, unable to sit idle, he found himself pacing in the Vireya ancient study, a room thick with dust and tradition. The scent of aged parchment, cold steel, and dried herbs lingered like ghosts.

His fingers brushed over ancient volumes, most of which he'd read over and over years ago…with Selene.

He spent most of his childhood here, he and Selene would go everywhere together, do everything together, and compete on who would read the most books. Their parents had betrothed her to him since before she was born.

He looked carefully over all the books, trying to find one he hadn't read before; he had not been in here in a while but he could remember where all the good books were.

He raised his eyes to explore the top shelves and his eyes finally caught something of interest; a book he and Selene had tried to reach as kids but never could no matter how hard they tried, it was so far up and they were not very tall so even after climbing the table close to the shelf, they could never reach it.

Not this time. He climbed the table and stretched a little; with a swift jump and swipe, he had the book in his hand.

"Of Blood and Bond: The Sacred Rites of Binding." Was the name boldly written on the book.

The script was faded, but legible. Ronan opened the book, flipping through fragile pages. He stopped at a chapter titled "Echoes of the Bond."

One part struck him:

"When the binding is incomplete, the bond remains volatile. Pain, rage, and even madness are known symptoms for males who do not mark…"

A wide smile involuntarily grew on his face; he smiled at the thought of Kaelen suffering…in pain. His mind had gone ahead to create perfect images of Kaelen groaning, tears dropping; his smile grew wider and wider.

Until it hit him... he didn't read the sentence to the end "…the symptoms and emotions of one may echo into the other in same measure, depending on how strong the bond is."

He froze. 'Selene would refuse the mark. Of course she would, Selene would never give herself to that spoiled, cold-blooded heir like that. But if she did… that'd mean Kaelen would face terror, and she'd experience the same pain Kaelen would!'

"No," he whispered. "No, no, no." He bolted from the study.

He didn't wait for permission, he didn't go to inform his father. He simply gathered his weapons, mounted his horse, and rode, ignoring the guards that tried to find out what the problem was…because there was one.

…

The road to Dravara was not kind. Storms hit the northern cliffs. Bandits blocked the eastern path. In the cursed forest of Vythe, one of his horses broke a leg and had to be left behind.

At night, a group of bandits accosted him.

Figures in black leathers emerged from the rocks—bandits or hired saboteurs, maybe even those who didn't want the Accord to succeed. Ten of them. No words, just blades.

Ronan didn't wait, he moved like a storm—fast, devastating. One blade parried, another slashed. His sword cut through armor and flesh with brutal efficiency. He ducked under a spear, kicked a man square in the chest, and stabbed upward with his dagger.

He saw them circling around him, surrounding him. He let them, so that he could take them all out at once.

A spin, a slice, a scream. He fought not for glory, not for survival—but for Selene.

One bandit slashed his arm. Ronan turned and slammed the hilt of his blade into the man's temple, cracking bone; blood sprayed, he moved to the next.

Pain blurred with adrenaline. His thoughts screamed her name. When the last one fell, twitching in the gravel, Ronan stood over them panting, soaked in blood that wasn't his. His sword trembled in his grip. His knees buckled—but he didn't fall. He kept going.

---

By the time the towers of the Dravara Castle came into view, Ronan was barely upright in the saddle. Mud covered his boots. His hands bled. His eyes burned.

He didn't wait for a herald. He shoved past the guards, who didn't recognize him at first, but his fury and wild desperation convinced them to let him through.

"I need to see her," he rasped. "Where is she?!" he asked no one in particular, and he didn't wait for an answer either.

He just kept going…room after room, hall after hall.

---

He didn't know where she'd be—only that he would find her.

He stormed through hallways, past bewildered servants, until he reached a corridor lit by moonlight. He heard her voice…soft, unfamiliar, intimate.

He followed it, and he found them.

Kaelen and Selene. So close, their faces were inches apart, her hand on his chest, his fingers brushing her cheek.

As Kaelen leaned in, Ronan felt the world tilt.

"Selene?!"

His voice cracked the silence like thunder. They pulled apart instantly, shock etched into Selene's face. Her mark glowed fiercely, as if in guilt.

Kaelen's expression darkened, anger evident.

"What the hell is going on here?" he demanded, stepping forward. Selene opened her mouth, but nothing came out.

Ronan's voice shook. "Did you go through with it? The ritual?"

She hesitated. Kaelen stepped forward protectively.

"You don't have to answer him if you don't want to" Kaelen said quietly…anger brewing inside.

But Ronan wasn't listening. His eyes were shimmering with betrayal.

"I came to warn you," he whispered. "To stop it. The bond—it'll hurt you, Selene. If he resists the mark too long, you'll suffer. You'll break."

Selene looked away. Her silence spoke volumes.

"You already feel it," Ronan said hoarsely. "Don't you?"

Tears welled in her eyes, but she said nothing.

Kaelen stepped forward, fangs faintly visible now. "You should leave."

Ronan drew his dagger. "Make me."

Selene stepped between them, arms outstretched. "Enough!"

The hall was silent for half a second after Selene's voice broke the tension but none of them moved, rage had over taken them. She screamed for them to stop, but they were too far gone. She ran out of the hall in tears. Her sobs echoed down the corridor, but neither of them even noticed…not yet.

Kaelen's jaw clenched. His eyes never left Ronan's.

"You hurt her," Ronan growled.

"She was already hurting," Kaelen replied coldly. "Long before I came into the picture, and I'd imagine that was your doing."

That was it.

Ronan lunged, dagger flashing. Kaelen deflected it with the side of his arm, hissing as the silver bit into his skin. The scent of burning flesh filled the air.

Ronan came at him again, fast and furious — no finesse, no form, just raw rage. Kaelen sidestepped, caught his wrist, and shoved him back, hard.

"Fight me properly, like a man!" Ronan snarled, spitting blood as he sprang to his feet.

Kaelen's hands curled into fists. "You want a proper fight huh? Fine; I'll give it to you." He didn't shift. Not yet. He didn't need his monstrous strength to meet this fury …not when his own heart was already a storm.

They clashed again. Blades ringing, breath heaving.

Ronan began to fight like the soldier that he was. Brutal, tactical. He knew Kaelen's weaknesses — the pulse of his bond, the slight limp from a past battle wound, and he exploited every inch.

Kaelen fought like a creature trying not to become one. He blocked, he dodged, he bled.

But then Ronan said it. "She only pities you." He snorted.

Kaelen froze for a split-second too long — and the dagger nicked his shoulder.

"Thinks you're broken," Ronan hissed. "Thinks she can fix you."

Kaelen's fangs dropped.

And in that moment, he lost himself.

With a growl like thunder cracking stone, he slammed Ronan into a pillar. The stone cracked. Dust rained. Kaelen's eyes glowed molten silver as he bared his teeth, breath coming in ragged bursts.

"You think this is what she wants?" he snarled, voice barely human. "You think she wants you clinging to her like a ghost from a life she doesn't have anymore?"

Ronan elbowed him in the ribs and twisted free, flipping them both. Kaelen grunted as his back hit the ground.

"She chose me first!" Ronan shouted, pressing the dagger toward his throat. "I bled with her, for her, before you ever existed in her world!"

"She didn't choose anyone," Kaelen growled, eyes gleaming. "She's never been allowed to. Not by your house, not by mine. And you don't see that…you don't care, you don't respect her!"

With a surge of power, Kaelen threw him off and rose. No more holding back.

The next punch landed squarely against Ronan's jaw, sending him reeling. Another caught his ribs — a sickening crack echoed as he doubled over.

Kaelen stood over him, blood dripping from his hands, chest rising and falling like a beast in a cage.

"You only fight for your pride," Kaelen whispered. "You have no idea how much I've had to sacrifice since the ceremony, just to make her happy, free. You have no idea because you don't care about her happiness just as long as you have her."

Ronan coughed, dragging himself upright with trembling limbs. "You call this freedom? Binding her to you? Letting her suffer because you refused the mark?"

Kaelen's jaw tightened. "I never wanted this," he said quietly. "But I can't walk away now. Not when she has captivated the part of me I can't control…the part I've kept hidden for centuries. Not when she's hurting."

Ronan's gaze was a burning coal. "And what? You think you deserve her?"

Kaelen didn't answer. Instead, he turned his face to the corridor where Selene had disappeared.

"I don't know if I do; heck, I don't even know if I want her" he said. "But until then, I'll burn for her the second she demands it."

With that, he stormed out of the hall in search of Selene, leaving Ronan sprawling in pain on the ground.

…

As Selene sat in the garden sobbing silently, a pair of silver eyes watched her from the cover of the bushes without blinking .