I nod once. “Right. I can summon the wings, but that’s it. I can’t feel him. Can’t speak to him. Kass is the only one who can bring him forward. And even then, it doesn’t seem to weaken the magic. We’ve tried.”
“What happened when you shifted for the first time?” she asks, eyes narrowing.
“I severed our bond,” Kass answers before I can speak, and a low growl tears out of my chest without warning. Her lips twitch like she was expecting that reaction. She shrugs. “Well, I thought I did. Turns out I just cloaked my side. He still feels his.”
Camara hums, like all the puzzle pieces are clicking into place. “Yes… yes, I see it now. The bond between a hellhound and their mate, it’s unlike any other. That rejection,” I growl again, sharper this time, “must have cracked the leash. Not fully. But enough to let your hellhound push through. He’s likely been fighting that magic your entire life, Draven. And the wings… they were the only thing he could break through with.”
She pauses, thinking. “Or maybe more. Have you ever… acted against your own will? Said something you didn’t mean to say? Did something without knowing why?”
My jaw tightens. I lower my head. “The day I first met Kass,” I say, voice low, “I remember… this overwhelming urge to order her execution. It felt like it was the right call. But then, when I opened my mouth, I exiled her to Kunou Forest instead. It was like… like someone else was speaking for me.”
“Kunou Forest…” Camara breathes.
“Yeah, that place was a real treat,” Kass mutters dryly beside me.
Camara glances at her. “It may have saved your life.”
I snap my eyes to her. “What do you mean?”
She turns to me. “No pure-blooded witch can enter Kunou Forest. Their magic can’t reach beyond its border. It’s sacred ground — forgotten now, mostly. But during the witch-shifter wars, hundreds of years ago, shifters prayed to the Moon Goddess to protect a space from all sorcery. And she answered. That forest became the only place witches couldn’t touch.”
She holds my gaze. “Draven… I think your hellhound forced the leash to bend. He couldn’t speak. He couldn’t shift. But maybe he could redirect. He got you to send your mate to the one place the witch couldn’t reach.”
I stare at her, throat dry.
“You may have had more of those moments than you realize,” she continues gently. “Times he tried to break through. Times he tried to protect you or your mate. The leash’s magic is old, powerful — but so is he.” Her brows furrow, voice dipping lower.
“This isn’t just rare magic. This is dangerous. And if it’s built to suppress a hellhound… then someone out there knew exactly what they were doing. Oh, this is not good.”
Camara starts grabbing pastries from the plates in front of her, one after another, eating like she’s stressing out and sugar is her only salvation. “A hellhound being born in this era? That’s already enough to shake every pack to its core,” she says between bites. “But a hellhound leashed by a witch?” She swallows, eyes sharp now. “That’s catastrophic. For all shifters.”
Her fingers hover over another pastry, but she doesn’t pick it up. “Whoever did this — they had to wait for the perfect window. And for a hellhound, that only happens once. Right after birth. When the soul is still anchoring to the body. You were vulnerablefor days, Draven. Not weeks. Not months. Not years. Just days. After that, it would’ve been impossible.”
Kass straightens beside me. “Who had access to the King’s heir right when he was born?”
Camara leans back on her cushion, brows drawn together in concentration. “I remember that time,” she murmurs. “Your mother insisted on keeping you secluded. She wanted time alone with you and her mate before you were presented to the public. She didn’t bring you to the Moon Temple for the blessing until nearly a month after you were born.”
She exhales slowly. “That means only your parents were near you. And…” Her face tightens. “A midwife. There was a woman your mother trusted. She was there for the birth. Never saw her again after that.”
Her eyes snap to mine. “She must’ve been the one. She’s the only other person who had access to you during that critical window. But I can’t remember her name. She vanished afterward. You’ll need to speak to your uncle. He might remember her.”
A chill moves down my spine, like ice taking root. My jaw locks. “My parents,” I grit out, “could their deaths have been her doing?”
Camara looks down. “It would make sense,” she whispers. “Your father wasn’t a fool. Given enough time, he would’ve seen something was wrong. Your mother, too. Especially when you met your mate — when the bond failed to activate. That witch couldn’t risk it. She would’ve needed you alone. Vulnerable.”
My hands curl into fists.
Camara continues, voice softer now. “Your uncle suspected something, you know. When you didn’t shift at sixteen, he came to me. After I couldn’t detect your Mate Spark, he still pushed for more answers. But nothing felt wrong. No one could feel the magic. Not even me. And your uncle… he had too much on his plate. Acting as regent, fighting off challengers in your name every other day, holding his own pack together.”
I stay silent, rage simmering just under my skin.
“In the end,” she finishes, “everyone just assumed you were… unlucky. The first shifter who couldn’t shift. Maybe a rare case. Maybe you didn’t have a Mate Spark because your other half didn’t exist.” She shakes her head. “We were all wrong.”
And now I’m the one paying the price for it. For being leashed like some cursed dog while the woman who belongs to me… had to suffer because of it. My mate. My soul’s twin.
“Wait,” Kass says, brow furrowed. “Isn’t your family famous for mowing through challengers like they’re nothing? Why was your uncle struggling?”
“That’s my father’s side,” I reply. “He was an only child. My uncle is my mother’s brother — he was also the Alpha Prime of the Bloodwulf Pack back then. So not only did he have to run his own pack, he had to act as regent until Sierra — his daughter, Sin’s sister — was old enough to take over. It nearly broke him.”
