Chapter 48

Chapter 49

For the first time in days, I didn’t wake up gasping for air. There was no phantom scent of damp earth or sulfur clogging my throat, no lingering echo of my mother’s cold voice vibrating in my skull, and no violent spike of adrenaline demanding that I jump out of bed and reach for a weapon.

Instead, there was only the soft, warm filtering of morning sunlight through the log cabin window and the deep, grounding scent of pine and cedar embedded in the heavy linens.

I rolled over, my arm instinctively sweeping across the mattress to find the solid, furnace-like warmth that had anchored me through the night. My fingers met only cold, empty sheets.

A sharp prickle of my usual hyper-vigilance flared in my chest. I sat up quickly, pulling Silas’s oversized linen shirt tighter around my shoulders. The fabric hung low on my collarbone, swallowing my frame, but the lingering scent of him instantly dialed back the panic. Shaking off the remnants of sleep, I padded across the creaking floorboards and pushed open the heavy front door, stepping out into the crisp, dew-kissed morning air of the porch.

Down at the river's edge, a silhouette stood framed against the sparkling water. Silas.

He had his boots kicked off, his dark trousers rolled up to his calves as he stood perfectly still in the shallow, glassy water. He wasn’t using a fishing rod or a net. He was just watching the current, his posture rigid and focused. Intrigued, I walked down the dirt path, keeping my steps silent, but as I drew closer, I noticed the faint, shimmering threads of golden light weaving through the water around his ankles. It wasn’t a standard elemental spell. It was raw, mesmerizing Fae magic, pulsing gently beneath the surface to effortlessly coax a pair of large river trout straight into a woven wicker basket sitting on the bank.

I leaned against a thick willow tree, crossing my arms with a amused smirk. "You know, for an all-powerful, ancient being, that looks a lot like cheating at mortal survival."

Silas didn’t flinch. He slowly turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto mine, a slow, devastatingly handsome smirk spreading across his rugged jaw. "Cheating? I prefer to call it efficiency, sweetheart. A prince shouldn't be expected to wait all day for a bite when he has a very hungry witch to feed."

I walked down to the bank, my bare feet sinking into the cool mud. "A prince, huh? Is that what we're calling you today? I thought you were just an insufferable runaway."

"I can be both," he retorted smoothly, stepping out of the water and picking up the basket. He shook the droplets from his dark hair, looking entirely too edible in the morning light. "Go sit by the fire pit. I'll have these cleaned and cooking before you can even think of another insult."

Twenty minutes later, the rich, savory scent of roasted fish and herbs filled the air. We sat close on the blanket, the domesticity of the morning incredibly sweet, yet entirely charged with the heavy, lingering memory of last night's kiss. Every time our eyes met, the air grew thick, suffocatingly warm.

As we finished eating, Silas’s playful demeanor began to fade. The easy smirk vanished, replaced by an intense, solemn gravity that anchored his broad shoulders. He set his plate aside, his eyes burning into mine with an expression that made my pulse violently skip a beat. I could see the phantom weight of his past passing over his features—the darkness he always tried to drown in a bottle—but today, he was sober, clear, and completely focused on me.

He reached out, taking both of my hands in his. The moment his calloused skin brushed mine, a powerful, ancient wave of magic surged through the air, making the hairs on my arms stand up.

"Anne," his voice dropped to a rough, breathless timber. "There are things I haven’t told you. Things about who I am, and what I’m running from. I’m a prince of a court I can never return to. I’ve done terrible things, Anne... bloody things. I was a desperate, broken man when you fell out of the sky into my lap. I was so drowned in drink, so terrified of Draco hunting me down for what I did to his sister, that my first wretched instinct was to kidnap you and sell you off just to buy my safety."

My breath hitched, but before I could speak, his grip tightened, his eyes pleading.

"But the moment I touched you, everything shifted," he whispered, his chest heaving. "The universe didn't care about my sins. It tied my soul directly to yours. Anne... we share a fated mate bond. You are my mate. The goddess sent you to me, and I swear to you, I am done running from it. I want to give this bond, and you, everything I have left."

The confession struck me like a physical blow. The absolute clarity of it—the reason why I always felt entirely safe in his arms despite his dark edges—finally clicked into place. A profound sense of warmth bloomed in my chest. I opened my mouth to tell him I accepted him, to tell him I didn't care about his past, but the moment the words formed, a violent, blinding pressure exploded behind my eyes.

The world tilted. The rushing river faded into a deafening silence, and a jarring psychic vision violently ripped me from the present.

I was looking through a veil of shadows, staring into a bleak, crystalline fortress in the Fae realm. Silas was there—chained, bloodied, and screaming in agony as Draco poured agonizing, dark magic directly into his chest. But my eyes were drawn to the foreground. A young woman was shouting desperately for help, her hands glowing with a fierce, unstable power as she tried to break the barrier to save him. She had striking, brilliant golden hair, and eyes that were a piercing, unmistakable mix of green and blue.

Beside her stood a man named Rain, his face etched with grim determination as he fought off Draco's guards. The vision shifted rapidly, flooding my mind with ancient prophecies. This girl... her name was Elle. She was the destined downfall of the Witches of the Woods, a force that would tear my beloved coven apart—but she was also the ultimate weapon, the only soul powerful enough to finally kill my mother, Isolde.

The girl turned, looking directly at me through the vision. As she did, I saw a slightly older version of myself standing right behind her. The truth hit my soul with a staggering, absolute certainty. Elle wasn’t just a random witch. She was my daughter. She was the child I was meant to have with Silas, and the cosmic alignment demanding her conception was pulsing in the atmosphere right now. The time was tonight, under the fast-approaching full moon.

I snapped back to reality with a sharp gasp, my body trembling violently as I blinked away the golden spots in my eyes. Silas was holding me tightly by the shoulders, his face pale with frantic worry. "Anne! Anne, look at me. Did you have a vision? What did you see?"

I forced my breathing to steady, looking up at him as my mind raced. If we left today like he wanted, we would miss the alignment. We would lose the chance to conceive the protector the world needed. I needed to delay him, and I needed to use every ounce of charm I possessed.

I softened my posture, leaning into his chest and letting my hands slide up his leather jacket, tracing the broad line of his collarbone. I tilted my head, looking up at him through my lashes, letting a heavy, seductive warmth bleed into my eyes.

"I'm okay," I murmured, my voice dropping to a smooth, purring cadence that made his pupils instantly dilate. "It wasn't a bad vision, Silas. In fact, it told me exactly what we need to do. But... we can't leave today. I need you to stay with me in this sanctuary for just one more night."

Silas’s jaw tightened, his protective instincts warring with the sudden heat radiating between us. "Anne, we can't. The wards are holding, but Draco's trackers and your mother's hounds are closing in. We need to move toward the woods."

"Please, Silas," I whispered, stepping closer until my body was brushed against his, my lips agonizingly close to his ear. I let my fingers gently graze the back of his neck, knowing exactly how sensitive his Fae senses were. "The full moon is tonight. I need to perform a vital coven ritual to anchor my powers, and it absolutely requires a powerful Fae partner. It requires you. Just one more night."

Silas let out a low, ragged growl, his hands gripping my waist with a possessive force that told me I had already won. He closed his eyes, fighting a losing battle against my touch, before opening them, a dark, wickedly cheeky glint returning to his eyes.

"One more night," he growled, a slow, predatory smirk spreading across his lips. "But don't say I didn't warn you, sweetheart. Fae magic is exceptionally volatile under a full moon—just like a werewolf's. And honestly? My dick might actually be magic under a full moon, too. You sure you can handle a prince's full power?"

I let out a breathless laugh, rolling my eyes dramatically as I swatted his chest. "You are absolutely insufferable."

"Insufferable, maybe," Silas murmured, his smirk softening into something intensely predatory and deeply hungry. He caught my jaw in his hand, tilting my face up. "But tonight, after we confess everything to the universe, we're doing this right. No more secrets."

He leaned down, catching my lips in a deep, burning kiss that tasted of absolute possession, sealing our pact under the shadow of the oncoming moon. Tonight would change everything.