Page 1 of Bonded

Prologue

FALLENSTAR DAY. 20 YEARS AGO.

Snow drifts around my feet as I stand under the dark palace, its shadows hiding me. The sky is alight with shooting stars of every colour, and the millions who live in this city are looking up at the sky, when they should be on their knees, watching the palace. Fallenstar Day comes every year, when the snow first touches the ground and the world accepts winter is here. The sky changes, the moon shines a brighter gold than before, and the space between magic and mortals is thin.

Finally, a sound cuts through the cheers and shouts of the people—a baby’s cry. High-pitched and sweet, the first cry of life. She is born. I wait patiently for what feels like an eternity, but it is only seconds before her power explodes.

Void City, the metropolis of millions, goes silent.

The shock of it nearly pulls me to my knees. Finally…after a thousand years…she is here.

Shadows as dark as the night crawl between the houses and up the castle like snakes. Shadows that whisper like they are alive, and yet, no one moves. The whispers become a chant, an echo…a song that will be remembered. Oblivion has chosen. Oblivion has chosen. Oblivion has chosen. The whispers only grow with the shadows until there isn’t a building left uncovered by the darkness, not a soul unable to hear the loud chant. Not even the blessed royals of Oblivion are spared. The shadows smother the last part of the castle, and the world becomes nothing.

For her.

This is all for her.

The shadows attempt to climb to where I stand, to take me under with them, but they soon recoil when they get close. They don’t try again, instead swirling around me in a circle.

I knew this day was coming. It has been predicted by the goddesses. Predicted by me. Predicted by the fates and destinies and whatever else mortals may call out and whisper them to be. But this day—her—it has been predicted, and I never gave up hope.

The shadows disappear as quickly as they came, leaving nothing but a sky alight with falling stars and a quietness that echoes through the whole world. I look to my left, to the shadow of a man. In this realm, he looks like nothing more than a shadow outline, and yet, I know he is smirking. The bastard always is. “It is time, then, my lord,” he says.

“It is,” I answer smoothly, watching the castle, hearing the baby cry.

In all the hundreds of years I have known that she would be coming here—that she would be born anew, again, to the royal family of Oblivion—I never expected it to be as hard as it is to know that I have to leave everything behind to go and protect her. “Many of us wish to come with you on this journey of protection. With our lord’s permission.”

“No.” It would be a risk, and one I cannot make. “You must protect until it is time. I will be a guard, watching over her as it should be, until she is of age and her destiny begins.”

I sense what he is going to say next. With the birth of shadows comes the darkness that cannot be contained. “And the Wrath? You know what happens when she is born, for it happened last time, and our realm⁠—”

“I am aware,” I cut him off, a sharp stab of pain echoing in my chest at the memory.

“Then what will happen to this world? It may be harder for you to defend her alone…” He sighs. “Not that I am doubting you. I never have, and I never will. You still need help, my lord.”

“Enough.” My voice echoes with my power. He bows his head once. “There will be time to stop the Wrath and teach her. But for now, she will need protecting because she is innocent and young. She is the second-born royal—not the first, not the heir. After tonight, her own family will be a danger to her.”

“As you wish, my lord.” I hear his hesitation in his voice. Neither of us expected her to be the second born, not with her power. The goddesses have played the strings of fate to make this happen. “We await your call.”

He slips away, the echo of him leaving this realm for one of death. I walk forward over the grass as the chanting and celebrations continue throughout the city. They are not just celebrating Fallenstar Day now—they are celebrating something so much more. When power appears like this, it means only one thing.

There is a new heir to Oblivion, and I will protect her.

Yet I hear it on the wind, the warning etched into her soul and the very fate that took her from me before…

“Noble are the weak, cruel are the strong, she who is bound to four will rise in blood and power, only for the world to shatter in her oblivion. The strings will choose fate’s gifts, and power will be marked for the fourth pack heir…yet heed my warning…for power brings Wrath. Once her power touches a realm…Wrath takes its payment of death from its mate. Water, Earth, Fire and Shadow are the key to the strings of fate…but there is a price all must pay. Her song will end in oblivion.”

Chapter One

Icover Tannith’s grave with one more handful of dirt, smoothing my hands over the mound in the earth with my black nails. My skin looks even paler in the bright light of the sun, and every sense of mine is on alert. I can smell the flowers, the sand and sea like it’s part of me. I can still find a trace of Tannith’s scent, even though she is gone. My heart clenches. It’s not enough to bury her, and I can never, ever bring her back. The goddesses gave me a chance to be free, to live a life with Tannith and escape…and I chose them. I failed her.

My nails are coated with mud as I look at the makeshift grave I’ve given my best friend. My sister. The only person in this world who loved me. I’ve been alone before, but this hollow feeling? It’s new. I feel nothing but pain and misery, and it is swallowing me up in numbness. It’s been less than ten hours since she died in my arms. Ten hours where I’ve flown with Zyran, where I’ve stared at the reflection of myself in the sea and been unsure who was looking back.

I’ve changed. It’s not just my teeth, where two sharp pointed teeth have appeared, but my skin is paler and my eyes glow gold now. They match the marking on my neck—swirls of black and gold, making a crown made of stars. It covers my neck, and thankfully, the burn mark from the Crone alpha is gone. I’m bound to no one now. I never will be again.

Her body was tiny to bury, and it was a painful reminder that she would never be back in her human form again. She would never smile at me, dance, or sing. Burying her was easier than I ever wanted it to be. The wooden plaque is blanketed by a shadow, and it doesn’t matter, because behind it is a view of endless sea. Tannith always wanted to see the beaches of the districts and travel and be free. In a way, now she is. I run my fingertips over the driftwood that Zyran found for me and carved her name in it with a stone.

Tannith Crone. Loved by her sister.