The battlefield smelled like wet earth and blood.

Smoke still drifted through the shattered tree line while wounded wolves groaned somewhere beyond the trenches, but the war itself had gone strangely quiet now, as though the entire forest was still trying to understand what it had just witnessed.

Killian barely heard any of it.

He lay half-sprawled in the mud beneath the crimson moon with blood running slowly from the corner of his mouth while silver burns spread dark and ugly across his chest and ribs beneath the torn remains of his shirt.

Every breath hurt.

Good.

At least pain meant he was still alive.

Above him, Eva stood motionless.

Rain slid down her bare legs and disappeared into the soaked battlefield beneath her heels while the dark red fabric of her gown moved softly in the wind around her body.

Not a stain on it.

Not one.

Killian stared up at her silently.

His vision blurred slightly around the edges from blood loss, but she still looked painfully clear against the storm-dark sky behind her.

Pale skin.

Black hair.

Crimson eyes still faintly glowing beneath the Blood Moon.

God.

His wolf quieted the second it looked at her.

Not calm.

Submitted.

The realization should’ve terrified him.

Instead, something deep inside his chest loosened for the first time in years.

Eva looked down at him without speaking.

Cold.

Unreadable.

But Killian knew her better now.

Or maybe worse.

He noticed the tiny shifts nobody else would ever see.

The slight tension near her jaw.

The way her fingers curled once against the fabric at her side before relaxing again.

The way her gaze kept drifting back toward the silver burns crossing his throat.

Anger.

Possessive anger.

Because someone else touched what belonged to her.

The thought slid through him like heat despite the pain ripping through his body.

Dangerous.

Pathetic.

True.

Killian laughed weakly under his breath.

Eva’s eyes narrowed immediately.

“What’s funny?”

His chest tightened sharply at the sound of her voice this close again.

Not through memory.

Not through dreams.

Real.

Still here.

“You came,” he said quietly.

The answer should’ve sounded pathetic.

Instead it came out rough and honest enough to hurt.

Eva’s expression didn’t soften.

“If Richard found the southern territories, he would’ve disrupted my operations.”

Killian smiled slightly despite himself.

Still lying.

Still pretending this had anything to do with strategy.

Rainwater slid slowly across his face while he kept looking up at her like she was the only thing left in the world worth seeing.

Maybe she was.

“You crossed a battlefield for me,” he murmured.

“I crossed a battlefield,” Eva corrected coldly. “You happened to be standing in it.”

That almost sounded believable.

Almost.

Killian coughed blood into the mud beside him.

The movement pulled sharply against the silver wounds carved across his ribs and shoulders, and for a brief second his vision darkened hard enough that he nearly lost consciousness entirely.

Eva stepped closer immediately.

Tiny movement.

Instinctive.

She stopped herself just as quickly.

But Killian saw it.

His wolf definitely saw it.

Mine.

The possessive pulse moved through the Mate Bond violently enough to make his chest ache.

Eva felt it too.

Her eyes flicked downward sharply.

The bond.

Still there.

Still alive after everything they’d done to each other.

Killian slowly pushed himself onto one elbow through the pain.

Bad idea.

His arm nearly gave out beneath him.

Eva watched the movement with growing irritation.

“You’re bleeding everywhere.”

“Yeah.”

“You look terrible.”

“I missed you too.”

That earned him a long stare.

For one dangerous second, Killian thought she might actually smile.

Instead she crouched slowly in front of him, the dark fabric of her gown spreading across the wet battlefield while the storm softened into distant noise around them.

Up close, she smelled like blood and rain and something colder underneath both.

Something ancient.

Killian’s wolf pressed harder against his ribs.

Not lust.

Not exactly.

Submission.

The terrifying kind.

Eva reached toward his throat.

Killian went completely still.

Her fingers brushed lightly against the silver burns crossing his skin where the rogue nets had pinned him down earlier.

The temperature around them shifted instantly.

The crimson glow beneath her eyes sharpened.

“Silver,” she said softly.

Killian watched her expression carefully.

There it was again.

That same ugly possessiveness darkening her gaze every time she saw another wound on him.

The realization hit him harder than the pain.

She hated seeing him touched by anything that wasn’t her.

God.

That should not have felt as good as it did.

Eva’s fingers lingered briefly against his throat before pulling away.

The absence felt immediate.

Killian swallowed slowly.

“You gonna kill me this time?”

Her gaze snapped back to his face.

“You think this is a joke?”

“No.”

He looked at her quietly for a second while thunder rolled somewhere far beyond the destroyed trenches.

Then:

“I think you would’ve let Richard split me open if you truly wanted me dead.”

Silence.

The battlefield around them continued moving slowly in the background. Blackwood wolves carrying bodies. Fires spreading through the shattered forest. Distant screams from wounded rogues abandoned by their retreating coalition.

But none of it reached them fully.

Not here.

Not inside whatever this had become.

Eva rose slowly back to her feet.

“Don’t confuse possession with mercy.”

Killian smiled again.

Small.

Ruined.

“Never did.”

The Mate Bond pulsed sharply between them.

Hard enough this time that Eva visibly stiffened.

Killian felt it too.

Something changing.

The old broken connection between them suddenly pulling tighter beneath the surface like invisible chains reconnecting piece by piece.

Not healed.

Forced together.

Violently.

Eva looked down at him sharply.

The air around them thickened.

Killian’s wolf suddenly dropped completely silent inside him.

Then slowly—

Lowered itself.

Submission hit him like a physical thing.

Not humiliation.

Not weakness.

Recognition.

Every instinct inside him knew exactly what she was now.

And worse—

It accepted her anyway.

Killian’s breathing roughened slightly as the bond tightened harder through his chest.

The old rejection wound burned.

Then cracked open.

The force of it made him gasp softly.

Eva felt it too.

Her eyes widened almost imperceptibly before narrowing again.

“No,” she murmured.

Too late.

The Mate Bond snapped violently back into place between them.

Killian doubled over hard enough to cough blood across the mud while silver light exploded briefly beneath his skin. Every torn nerve and shattered muscle in his body lit up at once beneath the force of the reconnection.

Pain first.

Then warmth.

The silver burns across his chest started healing slowly beneath the glow.

Not fully.

Not cleanly.

But enough.

The bond was feeding him strength again.

Eva stepped backward instinctively.

Like she could still stop this from happening.

The crimson energy connecting them pulsed harder.

Killian felt it spreading through his bloodstream now, rebuilding damaged tissue while his wolf practically purred beneath the sensation of her power pouring back into him.

Dangerous.

So fucking dangerous.

Because this bond no longer felt equal.

Not anymore.

Something had changed when she awakened whatever ancient thing lived inside her.

Killian realized it the same moment she did.

The bond had tilted.

Toward her.

Completely.

His wolf didn’t resist the shift at all.

It embraced it.

Total devotion spread through him slowly enough to feel horrifying.

He should’ve fought it.

Should’ve feared it.

Instead all he felt was relief.

Like some exhausted part of him had finally stopped trying to survive alone.

Eva stared down at him with something almost unsettled moving beneath her composure now.

“You’re letting it happen.”

Killian lifted his head slowly.

Rainwater slid down his face while the crimson bond continued glowing faintly between them beneath the storm.

“I’m tired,” he admitted quietly.

The honesty in his own voice surprised him.

“So am I.”

Not physically.

Something worse.

Tired of fighting her.

Tired of pretending he could survive losing her twice.

Tired of pretending his kingdom mattered more than the thing standing in front of him.

Eva looked away first.

That tiny movement told him more than words would’ve.

Because she still couldn’t fully look at him when he stopped hiding the truth.

The silver wounds across his ribs sealed slowly beneath the bond.

Not healed completely.

Just enough to stand again.

Enough to follow.

Enough to survive.

Eva finally looked back down at him.

Cold mask restored.

Queen again.

Monster again.

But the bond still pulsed visibly beneath her skin.

She felt it too.

Killian pushed himself upright slowly through the fading pain.

His knees nearly buckled once before steadying again.

Eva watched the movement in silence.

Then finally, softly enough that only he could hear:

“Get up.”

Killian lifted his eyes toward her.

The crimson moon burned behind her like a crown made of blood.

“You have a summit to attend.”