The training grounds were brutal at dawn.
Kieran dodged a strike from Lyria, his body moving on instincts he didn't know he possessed. The fae captain was fast—faster than any vampire he'd ever fought—but something in his blood was waking up, matching her speed.
"Better!" she called, circling him. "Your fae blood is responding to combat. Feel it?"
He did. A tingling under his skin, like electricity waiting to be unleashed. Every time danger approached, his reflexes sharpened. His vision cleared. His movements became fluid, almost otherworldly.
"What exactly am I?" Kieran panted, blocking another strike. "You keep saying fae blood, but that's vague."
Lyria paused, lowering her practice sword. "Moon fae. One of the rarest bloodlines. They're connected to emotions, intuition, dreams—and battle instinct. Your ancestors were legendary warriors because they could predict enemy movements, sense danger before it struck."
"Is that why I always knew when missions would go wrong?"
"Probably. The Guild's serum suppressed it, kept you manageable. But here, without those injections, your true nature is emerging."
Kieran looked at his hands. They looked normal, but he could feel the power beneath his skin now. Waiting. Growing.
"How powerful will I become?"
Lyria's smile was enigmatic. "That depends on how much you're willing to embrace what you are. Moon fae who accept their nature can become forces of nature themselves. Those who fight it remain weak."
"And if I embrace it? Fully?"
"Then you'll be strong enough to stand beside the Beast King as an equal. Not his protected mate, but his partner in truth." She raised her sword again. "Now, let's see if we can push you further. Again!"
They trained for three more hours. By the end, Kieran was exhausted but exhilarated. He'd managed to land hits on Lyria—actual hits on one of the most skilled warriors in the Shadowlands.
He was getting stronger.
And it terrified and thrilled him in equal measure.
That afternoon, Rhydian summoned him to a private chamber Kieran had never seen before.
It was deep in the keep, past guards and wards that recognized him now, letting him pass without challenge. The bond, he realized. They could sense his connection to their king.
The chamber itself was circular, walls covered in ancient texts and artifacts. A sanctuary of knowledge.
"You wanted to see me?" Kieran asked.
Rhydian turned from where he'd been studying a massive tome. "I want to show you something. About your bloodline. About what you're becoming."
He gestured to the book, its pages covered in elegant script and detailed illustrations.
"This is a history of moon fae lineages. Rare, because most were hunted to extinction centuries ago. Vampires feared their ability to sense danger. Werewolves hated that they couldn't be ambushed. Even other fae were wary—moon fae were unpredictable, emotional, powerful in ways that couldn't be controlled."
Kieran looked at the illustrations. Beautiful, ethereal beings with silver eyes and moonlight radiating from their skin.
"The last known pure moon fae died two hundred years ago," Rhydian continued. "But the bloodline survived in diluted form, hidden among humans. Your great-grandmother was one of the last. She married a human hunter, and the fae blood went dormant in her descendants."
"Until me."
"Until you." Rhydian's hand found his. "The mating bond awakened it. My hybrid nature called to your hidden fae blood, brought it to the surface."
"So I'm changing because of you?"
"We're changing each other." Rhydian's voice was soft. "Mate bonds don't just connect souls—they complete them. You bring out my humanity. I bring out your supernatural nature. We become balanced."
Kieran absorbed this. "What else should I know? About moon fae?"
Rhydian turned pages, showing him more. "They had prophetic dreams. Could manipulate emotions—soothe rage, inspire courage, instill terror. And at their peak power, they could manifest pure moonlight as a weapon that burned creatures of darkness like holy fire."
"That sounds... intense."
"You've already started. The way you calmed the werewolf packs when they argued last week? That was moon fae emotion manipulation. Instinctive, but effective."
Kieran remembered. There had been a heated dispute, tempers rising, violence imminent. And he'd felt something pulse out from him—a wave of calm that had settled over everyone. He'd thought it was coincidence.
"I did that?"
"You did. And you'll do more as you grow into your power." Rhydian closed the book. "But it comes with dangers."
"What kind of dangers?"
"Moon fae are tied to their emotions. Strong feelings amplify their power. But if those emotions become too intense—rage, grief, fear—the power can consume them. Turn them into something destructive."
Kieran thought of his fury when he'd learned about Aldric's betrayal. The white-hot rage that had made him want to destroy everything.
"How do I control it?"
"By accepting it. Not fighting it, not suppressing it, but understanding that emotion is strength, not weakness." Rhydian's hands cupped his face. "And by having an anchor. Someone who keeps you grounded when the power threatens to overwhelm."
"You."
"Me."
They kissed, and Kieran felt the bond pulse between them—warm, steady, grounding. Rhydian was right. When he was near, the chaos inside Kieran settled. Became manageable.
"I'm scared," he admitted. "Of what I'm becoming. Of losing myself to this power."
"You won't lose yourself. I won't let you." Rhydian's voice was fierce. "We're in this together. Always."
The promise settled something in Kieran's chest.
He wasn't alone in this transformation. Whatever he became, Rhydian would be there.
That night, Kieran experienced his first prophetic dream.
He was standing in a battlefield. Bodies everywhere—werewolves, vampires, fae, humans. Blood soaked into the ground like rain.
And at the center of it all stood a figure in shadow. Ancient. Powerful. Radiating malevolence.
"You think you can stop us?" the figure spoke, voice like grinding stone. "The hunter turned traitor. The mongrel king. You're nothing. You'll both burn when the true powers rise."
The figure's face became visible.
An ancient vampire. But not Marcellus—someone else. Someone older, more dangerous.
"The war is coming," the vampire continued. "And when it does, you'll have to choose. Your humanity or your power. Your love or your survival. Choose wrong, and everyone you care about dies."
The dream shifted.
Kieran saw Rhydian, wounded and bleeding, reaching for him.
Saw the Shadowlands burning.
Saw himself standing over it all, glowing with silver light, tears streaming down his face.
"This is your future," the vampire whispered. "Power without control. Love without mercy. Destruction in the name of protection. The moon fae's curse—to destroy what they most wish to save."
Kieran tried to speak, to deny it, but the dream was already fading.
He woke with a gasp, sweat soaking the sheets.
Rhydian was there instantly, arms around him. "Nightmare?"
"No." Kieran's voice shook. "Vision. I saw... I saw something coming. Something worse than anything we've faced."
Rhydian listened as Kieran described the dream—the battlefield, the ancient vampire, the warnings.
When he finished, Rhydian's expression was grim.
"That was Lord Draven. The vampire who rules the Eastern Territories. He's older than Marcellus, more powerful, and far more cunning."
"He's coming for us?"
"Eventually. He sees the Shadowlands as a threat to his power. And now that you've bonded with me, now that your fae blood is awakening—" Rhydian's jaw clenched, "—we're an even bigger threat."
"Because together we're stronger."
"Exactly."
Kieran leaned into Rhydian's embrace. "The dream showed me destroying everything. Losing control."
"That won't happen."
"You can't promise that."
"I can, and I do." Rhydian's voice was steel. "Whatever power awakens in you, whatever challenges come—we face them together. I won't let you fall to darkness. And you won't let me become the monster I fear."
"How can you be so certain?"
"Because that's what mates do. We complete each other. Balance each other." Rhydian kissed his forehead. "Your light balances my darkness. My darkness gives your light something to push against. We're stronger together than apart."
Kieran wanted to believe him. Needed to believe him.
Because if the vision was true, if Lord Draven was coming, they'd need every ounce of strength they could muster.
The real war hadn't even begun yet.
The next morning, a messenger arrived.
A vampire, but not one of their enemies. One of the independent clans—those who'd remained neutral in the conflict with Marcellus.
She knelt before Rhydian in the throne room, Kieran standing at his side.
"My King. I bring word from Lord Draven of the Eastern Territories."
Ice flooded Kieran's veins. The vampire from his vision.
"Speak," Rhydian commanded.
"He requests a meeting. Neutral territory. One week from now. He wishes to discuss the recent events—Marcellus's death, the Shadowlands' growing power, and—" her eyes flicked to Kieran, "—your mate bond with a fae-blooded hunter."
"A meeting or a trap?"
"He swears by ancient law. Safe passage for both sides. No violence, no betrayal."
Rhydian's expression was unreadable. "And if I refuse?"
"Then he'll consider it an act of war. The Eastern Territories will move against the Shadowlands within the month."
Silence fell.
Kieran felt the weight of the decision. Meet with a dangerous enemy, possibly walk into a trap. Or refuse and guarantee a war they weren't ready for.
"We'll meet," Rhydian decided. "Under the conditions of ancient law. Neutral ground, limited guards, truth-binding wards."
The messenger bowed. "I'll convey your acceptance. The location will be sent tomorrow."
She left, and Kieran turned to Rhydian.
"This is because of me, isn't it? Because I'm awakening fae powers."
"This is because we're threatening the established order." Rhydian's hand found his. "The old powers—vampires like Draven—they've ruled through fear and division for millennia. We represent something different. Unity. Change. They'll do anything to stop that."
"So what do we do?"
"We prepare. We train. And we show them that the Shadowlands can't be intimidated." Rhydian's eyes blazed. "One week. That's how long we have to make you ready for whatever comes next."
Kieran nodded, determination settling in his chest.
One week to master powers he barely understood.
One week to prepare for a meeting with an ancient evil.
One week before everything changed again.
He just hoped it would be enough.