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Arwan finally emerges from the shadows, making Ze’ev snarl once more.

I whimper again, which seems to temper his aggression enough for the royal to speak.

The wind catches his glossy midnight hair and his robes as shadows curl over his dark arm. He’s expending considerable energy, but I’m not sure for what purpose.

Until I realize that there’s a pressure in the air between the two males, and it’s physically costing Ze’ev to remain here.

“She wears my truce token,” Arwan says with a steady voice. There’s agony in his words I don’t understand, but I feel like I’m starting to. “The triad will only work if you lift your vendetta against me, my friend. Complete your bond with her here, right now, right in front of me. You are the only one who doesn’t need King Njord’s blessing to do that.”

I stare at Arwan, then I peer up at Ze’ev and trace his jawline with my finger. “Tell me what happened, Ze’ev,” I whisper. My words are soft, but they draw his attention away from the royal until he’s entirely focused on me. “What am I missing?”

I don’t have my vials. They must be hidden in Godric’s tent or placed somewhere for safekeeping. I feel naked without them, and I would pay any price to hear Ze’ev’s thoughts right now.

Instead of pulling out a pad of paper or miraculously speaking, he cups my face, then leans down and presses a kiss onto my mouth.

It’s so sweet, so tender, that I hardly register that this is the psychotic Outcast everyone fears. He’s the hybrid who even has Arwan trembling and hesitant to approach.

With me, Ze’ev is someone else. Someone he never shares with the world, because it’s too vulnerable, too wounded, to bring out into the open.

His fingers go back to my wrist as he toys with the bracelet, then he holds it to his chest. As my fingers rest there, I feel his pain.

I don’t see a vision or experience insight on specifics that might tell me what exactly happened, but I know the loss that crosses our connection is one that goes so deep it’ll never be fully healed.

It can only be survived.

Arwan is at the crux of that pain. Somehow, Ze’ev blames him for what happened. For all the loss he has experienced.

His voice.

His identity.

His family.

Everything.

But now he has me.

I’m something Arwan wants. I’m a link to his rival that gives him control and leverage he’s never had before, but he doesn’t want to use it.

Ze’ev doesn’t see me as a bargaining chip.

He sees me as his equal.

With that powerful emotion locked inside my soul, Ze’ev kisses me. He devours my mouth with all of his truth, all of his passion that tells me I will never be used by him. I will never be a pawn in a game.

Godric and Arwan stand on either side of us as Ze’ev peels away my shirt. I let him. His hands explore my body as if he’s memorizing my skin for the first time.

He’s already had me once, but not like this. His vampire side had claimed me before, but this is different.

This is his beast, a part of his soul that he never lets out.

I’m torn away from the perfect kiss far too soon. A cry escapes my lips as someone rips me away.

“Arwan!” Godric snarls, but the royal is already dragging me through the forest.

“I’m sorry, little queen,” he pants. “I have a beast I hide away, too… and he can’t just watch a broken hybrid permanently claim you. This isn’t like with Godric, where you can be unmatched. This is fucking Ze’ev, the Outcast, someone who will drag you down and never let you leave his own personal hell.”

The violent change of plans has me reeling, and I claw at Arwan’s arm. Shadows whip at me, but I snarl back at them, bending them to my will.