Noon arrived with the weight of a verdict.
I'd spent the morning pacing my apartment, rehearsing speeches, discarding them, starting over. Elinor watched from her perch on the bookshelf, her expression clearly communicating that she thought I was an idiot.
"You're probably right," I told her. "But here we are."
At 11:30, I walked to the park.
It was a small one—the kind that existed in every city, tucked between apartment buildings and coffee shops, used by dog walkers and elderly couples and parents with strollers. I'd passed it a thousand times without really seeing it. Today, every bench, every tree, every patch of grass felt significant.
I chose a bench near the fountain. Central. Visible. Neutral.
Then I waited.
Kael arrived first, at 11:52. He'd made an effort—nice jeans, a dark shirt that stretched across his shoulders, his hair slightly tamed. He looked like he was going on a date. The thought made my stomach flip.
"You're early," I said.
"You're worth being early for." He sat beside me, close but not touching. "How are you feeling?"
"Terrified. Angry. Confused. Also, oddly hungry. I don't know if that's a hybrid thing or just a Lena thing."
"Could be both." He smiled, and it softened his whole face. "My mother used to say that strong emotions burn energy. Supernatural or not, your body needs fuel."
"Your mother sounds like she was wise."
"She was. She also once challenged a vampire elder to a drinking contest and won. So. Complicated."
I laughed—actually laughed—and some of the tension in my chest loosened. "I wish I'd known her."
"She knows you." Kael's voice was gentle. "Wherever she is, she knows you. And she's proud."
Before I could respond, the air shifted. Cooled. Caspian materialized from the shadows of a large oak, walking toward us with that impossible grace. He'd also dressed differently—less formal, more human. Dark jeans, a gray sweater that made his eyes look almost soft.
Almost.
"Lena." He sat on my other side, positioning himself so that I was between them. Strategic. Deliberate. "You wanted to talk."
"I did. I do." I took a breath. "But first, I need you both to promise me something."
"What?" Kael asked.
"Listen. Really listen. Don't interrupt, don't argue, don't try to fix anything. Just hear me. Can you do that?"
They exchanged a glance—that same glance from last night, the one that said they were capable of cooperation when it mattered.
"Yes," Caspian said.
"Of course," Kael agreed.
I nodded, gathered myself, and began.
"I've spent my whole life being invisible. Foster homes, group homes, schools where no one remembered my name. I learned to be small, to be quiet, to take up as little space as possible. It was survival. If no one noticed me, no one could hurt me. If no one expected anything, I couldn't disappoint."
They were silent. Listening. Just as I'd asked.
"Then you two happened." I gestured vaguely at both of them. "Wolves attacked me. A vampire saved me. Suddenly I wasn't invisible anymore. I was... wanted. Claimed. Fated. And part of me—a big part—liked it. Liked being seen. Liked being important to someone. Liked the way you both look at me like I'm the answer to questions you've been asking for centuries."
Kael's breath caught. Caspian went very still.
"But here's the thing." I looked at my hands. "I don't know if what you feel is really me. Kael, you said it yourself—the mate bond is instinct. Biology. It's been pulling you toward me since the moment we met. And Caspian, your bond is different—a claiming, a connection—but it's also not entirely chosen. Not at first."
"Lena—" Kael started.
"You promised. No interrupting."
He subsided, but his jaw was tight.
"I'm not saying your feelings aren't real. I'm not saying the bonds don't matter. But I need to know—need to understand—if you'd still want me without them. If I were just Lena. Ordinary Lena, with no hybrid blood, no destiny, no power. Would you still look at me like I matter?"
The silence stretched. The fountain burbled. Somewhere, a child laughed.
"Yes." Caspian's voice was quiet but absolute. "I would. The bond didn't create what I feel for you—it just made me stop pretending I didn't feel it. I noticed you in that alley before I touched you. Before I knew what you were. You looked at me—really looked, without fear, without compulsion—and something in me woke up. The bond just... acknowledged what was already true."
I turned to Kael.
"Same," he said roughly. "The mate bond is real, but it's not magic. It doesn't create love out of nothing. It just... tunes you in. Makes you notice. I noticed you the second I smelled you—not as a mate, but as you. Scared and brave and confused and so fiercely alive. The bond just made me pay attention."
Tears burned my eyes. I blinked them back.
"That's... that's not what I expected you to say."
"What did you expect?" Caspian asked.
"I expected you to defend the bonds. To tell me they're destiny, that we don't have a choice, that this is just how it is. I didn't expect you to—" I stopped. Swallowed. "I didn't expect you to make it about me."
"It's always been about you," Kael said. "From the beginning."
"Then here's what I need." I looked at them—really looked, seeing past the vampire and the wolf to the men beneath. "I need time. I need space to figure out who I am—not as a hybrid, not as a prize, not as someone's fated mate. Just Lena. And I need you to give me that without pushing, without claiming, without trying to own me."
Caspian's expression didn't change, but I felt his pain through the bond—sharp and cold. "How much time?"
"I don't know. Weeks. Months. However long it takes."
"And during that time?" Kael's voice was carefully controlled. "What are we supposed to do? Just... wait?"
"Yes. If you want to. If I'm worth waiting for."
"Lena." Kael turned to face me fully. "I've waited seventy-three years to find you. I can wait a few more months. But I need you to know—I'm not going anywhere. Whether you choose me or him or no one at all, I'll be here. Protecting you. Loving you from a distance if I have to. That's not the bond talking. That's me."
I looked at Caspian.
"I've waited three hundred years to feel something other than emptiness," he said quietly. "I can wait a little longer. But Lena—" He reached out, slowly, and took my hand. His fingers were cold, but the gesture was warm. "When you're ready, when you've figured out who you are—I hope you'll let me show you who I could be. With you. For you."
Kael took my other hand. His was warm, calloused, alive.
"We're not going anywhere," he said. "Either of us. You're stuck with two supernatural idiots who'd burn the world for you."
Despite everything, I laughed. "That's a very weird thing to be grateful for."
"It's a very weird situation." Caspian's lips curved—actually curved, a real smile, small but genuine. "But I find I don't mind."
We sat like that for a moment—me between them, hands held, the afternoon sun warm on our faces. Two enemies, united by love for the same woman. A hybrid who didn't know what she was becoming. A future that none of us could predict.
It was strange. It was complicated. It was terrifying.
It was also, somehow, exactly where I was supposed to be.
We stayed in the park for hours.
Not talking about anything important—just talking. Kael told stories about his pack, about growing up as the alpha's son, about the first time he shifted and accidentally destroyed his family's kitchen. Caspian shared fragments of his past—courts he'd attended, wars he'd survived, books he'd loved. I told them about foster homes and libraries and the year I spent convinced I could communicate with cats (Elinor still refuses to confirm or deny).
By the time the sun started setting, something had shifted. The tension was still there—centuries of hatred didn't dissolve in an afternoon—but it was quieter. Manageable. Underlaid by something that felt almost like friendship.
"I should go," Caspian said finally, glancing at the darkening sky. "The sun and I have an arrangement, but it doesn't include twilight."
"Will you be okay?" I asked. "Getting back?"
His eyes softened. "I've survived three hundred years. I think I can manage a walk through the city."
Kael snorted. "Show off."
"Jealous?"
"Of your inability to enjoy sunshine? Not remotely."
I laughed, and the sound felt natural now. Easy.
"Tomorrow?" I asked. "Same time?"
"I'll be there." Kael squeezed my hand before releasing it.
"As will I." Caspian rose, and for a moment he just looked at me—that ancient, burning gaze. "Lena. Thank you."
"For what?"
"For seeing us. Not as monsters or mates or means to an end. Just... us."
I smiled. "You're welcome."
Then he was gone, melting into the shadows like he'd never been there at all.
Kael lingered. "He's right, you know. About the seeing. Most people look at us and see power, danger, something to fear or use. You look at us and see—" He stopped.
"See what?"
"Possibility." He stood, pulled me gently to my feet. "You see who we could be, not just who we are. That's rare. That's precious." He cupped my face in his warm hands. "That's you."
For a moment—just a moment—I thought he might kiss me. His eyes dropped to my lips, his breath ghosted warm across my skin, his thumb traced my cheekbone.
Then he stepped back.
"Not yet," he said softly. "When you're ready. When you've figured things out. I'll be here."
He walked away before I could respond, disappearing into the evening crowd.
I stood alone in the park, the pendant warm against my chest, and for the first time in my life, I didn't feel invisible.
I felt seen.
That night, I dreamed of fire again.
But this time, the Moon Priestess wasn't alone. Beside her stood another woman—younger, familiar in ways that made my heart ache. Elena. My mother.
She looked at me with my own eyes, and she smiled.
You're doing so well, she said. Better than I ever could.
"I don't know what I'm doing," I admitted. "I'm making it up as I go."
That's what we all do, little one. The ones who pretend they have it figured out are lying. She stepped closer, and I felt her warmth like sunlight. I'm proud of you. For standing your ground. For refusing to be owned. For seeing the men behind the monsters.
"They love me."
They do. Both of them. In different ways, for different reasons. And you— She touched my chest, over my heart. You love them too. Don't you?
I wanted to deny it. Wanted to say it was too soon, too complicated, too impossible. But this was my mother. I couldn't lie to her.
"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe. Both of them. Is that wrong?"
Wrong? She laughed, and it was the most beautiful sound I'd ever heard. Lena, love is never wrong. It's the only thing that's ever right. The only question is—what kind of love do you want? What kind of life do you want to build?
"I don't know that either."
Then find out. Take your time. Make mistakes. Change your mind. That's what being alive is. She kissed my forehead, and I felt it like a blessing. I love you. I've always loved you. And I'll be watching, always.
The dream faded, and I woke to moonlight and the pendant's warmth and tears on my face.
But for the first time, they weren't sad tears.
They were grateful.