Chapter Eleven
The dream began with silver light. Soft, endless, and too bright to be real.
Brielle stood barefoot in a meadow she didn’t recognize, her hair stirring in the wind that carried the scent of jasmine and moonlight.
The air shimmered, and when she lifted her head, the Moon Goddess stood before her—tall, luminous, her eyes ancient and sorrowful.
Brielle bowed instinctively. “You again,” she murmured. “I was hoping for something less ... dramatic.”
The Goddess smiled, her voice echoing like water over stone. “Child of blood and flame, the time for hoping has passed. The new moon rises tonight. By its peak, you must be ready.”
“Ready for what?” Brielle asked, her throat dry.
“To face him. To end him,” the Goddess said simply. “When the clock strikes midnight, the world will tilt. Caleb will bring the darkness he has woven for centuries, and only you can stand against it.”
Brielle’s pulse quickened. “You’re telling me I’m supposed to fight him? Alone?”
“No.” The Goddess’s expression softened. “You were never meant to be alone. But you cannot draw on your full strength until you are whole. Until you have accepted the bond that was fated for you.”
Brielle frowned. “My fated mates.”
“Yes.” The Goddess’s light seemed to brighten, spilling through the meadow. “By midnight of the new moon, you must be bound to them—heart, body, and soul. Only then will your power align with theirs. Only then will you be strong enough to survive.”
“And if I don’t?” Brielle asked quietly.
“Then the world will fall back into shadow.” The Goddess stepped closer, placing a cool hand on her cheek. “You are the balance, Brielle. The storm and the calm. But you must choose soon. Strength is not given—it is claimed.”
The meadow rippled like water, and before Brielle could ask anything else, the light shattered.
She woke with a groan, her head pounding. “Oh, Goddess,” she muttered, dragging an arm over her eyes. Her tongue felt like sandpaper, and every sound in her apartment was too loud. She cracked one eye open and immediately regretted it—the sunlight was offensive.
A soft clatter came from the kitchen. “Don’t move,” Hunter’s voice called out, followed by Lennox’s low laugh.
“Already not planning to,” she croaked.
Hunter appeared in the doorway to her bedroom carrying a glass of water, thankfully what looked like a bottle of aspirin and what looked like toast. “You look like you fought a bus and lost.”
“Feel like it, too,” she muttered, sitting up gingerly. “Is the bus still alive?”
Hunter laughed as he handed her the water and shook out two pills. “Have a shower and eat these, then come on out. We’ll have breakfast ready.”
Not waiting for an answer, he stepped back out to no doubt join Lennox in the kitchen.
She nibbled on some toast before standing and decided that she would live.
Then she had a shower, reveled in the heat of it a little longer than she should have, before dressing and going back to the kitchen, nibbling on the last slice of toast she’d been left with.
Lennox chuckled from the counter, flipping pancakes like his life depended on it. “Good morning, sweetheart. You look decidedly better than you probably should.”
Brielle eyed them suspiciously. “What are you two doing here?”
Hunter smirked. “We’re making up for being idiots. Starting with carbs.”
She took the water, eyeing him over the rim of the glass. “Apology might be worth accepting. Conditionally.”
“Fair,” Lennox said, sliding a plate toward her. “Eat. Then yell at us. Then tell us what’s next, because you’ve got that ‘we’re doomed’ look again.”
Brielle sighed, rubbing her temples. “We might be. I had a dream.”
Hunter stilled. “The Goddess?”
She nodded. “Yeah. She said the new moon’s in tonight. By midnight, I have to have found my strength and be mated to my fated ones—or I won’t stand a chance against Caleb.”
Silence filled the kitchen. Lennox looked like he wanted to swear but held it in.
Hunter set the plate down slowly. “So ... you have to ... what, exactly?”
“Mate,” Brielle said bluntly. “As in the whole ritual. Bonding. Magic. All of it.”
Lennox blinked. “By midnight?”
“Apparently.”
Hunter ran a hand through his hair. “No pressure, huh?”
Brielle gave a short, humorless laugh. “Exactly. So, finish breakfast—we’re going upstairs to tell the others.”
They climbed the stairs to the rooftop, the morning wind cool and sharp against her skin. The others were already there. Ursula wrapped in a blanket, nursing a mug of coffee like it was a holy relic, and the rest looking various shades of exhausted.
Brielle squinted at Willow and Saffie, who looked infuriatingly composed. “Why do you two look like you slept for a week while I feel like I died?”
Saffie sipped her coffee innocently. “Good genes.”
Willow added with a grin, “And grape juice.”
Brielle froze. “You didn’t.”
“Oh, they fucking did,” Ursula muttered, glaring into her mug. “They’re both traitors.”
Saffie shrugged. “You were stress incarnate. You both needed to vent some steam, so we made an executive decision.”
Ursula groaned. “I hate you all.”
Brielle dropped into the chair opposite her. “Trust me, you’re not alone.” She took a long breath and straightened. “Betrayal aside, everyone listen up. I talked to the Goddess last night.”
That got their attention. Even the hungover one looked up.
“She said the new moon is tonight, so by midnight, I have to be bonded—completely—to my fated mates. Otherwise, Caleb wins.”
Willow blinked. “Bonded as in...”
“Sex, magic, vows—the full package,” Brielle said, exasperated. “And apparently, that’s the key to unlocking whatever power I’m supposed to use to end him.”
Ursula rubbed her temple. “Well, that’s not ominous at all.”
Lennox muttered, “She really said all that?”
“Yes,” Brielle snapped. “And I don’t know what ‘find your inner strength’ means either, so don’t ask.”
Hunter folded his arms. “We’ll figure it out.”
Saffie arched a brow. “The three of you had better start figuring fast. Midnight’s not waiting.”
Brielle gave her a look. “Thanks for the reminder.” She turned back to the group, her tone edged with disbelief. “So, what? I have to find my fated mates before midnight?”
Both Hunter and Lennox growled at the same time, low and possessive, the sound rolling through the air like thunder. Hunter’s eyes darkened. “No need to look, baby. We’re right here.”
Lennox crossed his arms, meeting her startled gaze. “What we need to figure out isn’t who—they’re standing in front of you. It’s what’s blocking the bond. Because there’s no universe where we’re not yours.”
Brielle blinked, her mouth opening and closing once before she managed, “You two really don’t do subtle, do you?”
Hunter grinned, sharp and unrepentant. “Not when it comes to you.”
Lennox smirked. “Subtlety’s overrated.”
The rooftop wind caught her hair, and Brielle felt that pull again—the same invisible tether the Goddess had warned her about. Dangerous. Powerful. Real.
She took a breath and squared her shoulders. “Then I guess we better find out what’s standing in our way.”
Hunter’s voice dropped low, steady. “And when we do—nothing will stop us.”
Brielle met his gaze, fire sparking behind her exhaustion. “Good. Because if Caleb wants a fight, he’s about to get one.”
****
The hours after the Goddess’s message crawled by, dragging sunlight and sanity with them. By the time the city dipped into twilight, the rooftop had gone quiet again—no laughter this time, no wine-fueled jokes. Just tension, thick and unspoken.
Lennox leaned against the railing, staring out over the skyline, the soft glow of the city lights reflecting in his eyes.
The sunset was bleeding out, everything turning gold and red, and Brielle stood a few feet away, pacing like a storm caged in human form.
Her hands kept flexing, her energy restless, sparking against the wards like static.
“She’s not okay,” Hunter muttered from beside him. “And I don’t blame her.”
Lennox sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. “She thinks it’s her fault the bond hasn’t locked in yet.”
“She’s not saying it,” Hunter replied, “but, yeah. It’s written all over her face.”
They watched her in silence. The sunset turned to indigo, the stars fighting through the haze, and Brielle finally stopped pacing. Her shoulders slumped as she sank into a chair, frustration bleeding into exhaustion.
“I don’t understand,” she said quietly. “The Goddess said by midnight tonight, I need to be bonded to my fated mates. But it’s been hours, and nothing’s happened. No spark, no mark, no connection. What if I’m not enough? What if I’m not who you think I am?”
Lennox’s chest tightened. “Hey.” He crouched in front of her, catching her chin so she’d look at him. “Don’t say that.”
Her eyes flicked up, bright and wet with frustration. “Then tell me why it isn’t working. Why can’t I feel it?”
Hunter stepped closer, his expression soft but fierce. “Because something’s blocking it. That’s all. You’re not broken, Brielle.”
“You’re everything,” Lennox said, his voice rough with conviction. “And if the Goddess thinks we need a little more time, then so be it. But don’t you ever think you’re not enough. You’re everything we’ve been waiting for.”
Brielle’s lips parted like she wanted to argue, but her breath hitched instead. She looked between them, torn between belief and doubt.
From behind, Saffie made a soft, thoughtful sound. “Hmm.”
Everyone turned.
Ursula, who had been nursing another coffee like it was a potion, sat up straighter. “What the hell does this even mean?” she demanded.
Saffie’s eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know yet,” she admitted. “But I felt something shift.”
Before anyone could question her, the wards around the rooftop crackled—light flashing blue and silver for a heartbeat before dimming again.
Willow jumped up. “What the hell was that?”
Lennox’s instincts flared instantly. “That was a breach.”
The door at the far end of the rooftop swung open with a groan, and three men stepped into view—Landon, Braydon, and Colt. All three looked pale, disoriented, and more than a little nauseated.
Ursula’s eyes narrowed, her voice sharp as glass. “How in the hell did you get through my wards?”
Braydon winced. “Brute force,” he said, his voice rough. “Turns out, not a great idea.”
Colt leaned on the wall, grimacing. “Yeah, if you ever want to experience the magical equivalent of chronic food poisoning—like your stomach’s on fire and your bones are trying to crawl out of your skin, I highly recommend doing it this way.”
Saffie crossed her arms. “You idiots could’ve killed yourselves.”
Landon took another shaky step forward, his gaze fixed on Brielle. “We didn’t have a choice. We had to talk to her.” His voice cracked, sincerity bleeding through the exhaustion. “Brielle, please—don’t hate me for showing up.”
Ursula flinched, the motion sharp. Her coffee mug hit the table with a dull thud. “Oh no. Not this again.”
But Landon didn’t look at Brielle anymore.
He dropped to his knees in front of Ursula instead, his voice breaking.
“No, sweetness. Not because of that. We sense it now—you’re ours.
I’ll hate myself forever for making you doubt it, but we think we know why Brielle can’t sense her bond with Hunter and Lennox. ”
The rooftop went silent. The breeze died. Even the hum of the city seemed to pause.
Brielle swallowed hard. “What do you mean?”
Braydon stepped closer, his eyes glowing faintly gold. “She’s latent.”
Hunter frowned. “Latent?”
Colt nodded. “We’ve been doing some research. It’s rare, but it happens. When a shifter’s animal is bound too tightly by magic or trauma, the mating bond can’t manifest until it’s released.” He looked at Brielle carefully. “We think you’re not just a witch. We think you’re one of us—a lioness.”
Brielle blinked, stunned. “That’s insane.”
Landon’s expression softened. “It’s the only thing that makes sense. That pull I felt when I first met you—it wasn’t the mating bond. It was recognition. My lion recognized yours, even if yours hasn’t woken yet.”
Ursula looked away, her throat working. “The Goddess did say you were more than what you remember.”
Saffie rubbed her temples. “Well, that explains the breach. Three lions breaking through wards to find a fourth. Not many things in this world would stop that from happening.”
Brielle sat back hard, her heart pounding. “So ... what? You’re saying I have an animal inside me I didn’t even know about?”
Hunter placed a steadying hand on her shoulder. “You’re saying she’s a shifter?”
Braydon nodded. “Born of both bloodlines. Witch and lion. It’s why Caleb’s drawn to her power—it’s ancient. It’s the merging of both worlds.”
For a long moment, no one spoke. Then Brielle exhaled shakily, trying to steady her racing thoughts. “The Goddess said I couldn’t draw from my full strength until I was whole. Okay,” she said finally. “So, how do I wake her up?”
Landon rose slowly to his feet, his gaze steady on hers. “That’s where we come in. You don’t have to find your strength, Brielle. You just have to remember it.”
The night wind rose again, cool and sharp against their skin. The rooftop lights flickered as if the Goddess herself was listening.
Hunter’s voice was quiet but certain. “Then let’s wake her up.”
Colt stumbled forward, one hand pressed to the wall as if the world tilted.
“Yeah, sure, right on it,” he rasped, breath shallow.
“But unless one of you plans on making the universe stop spinning, I’m two seconds from redecorating this beautiful rooftop with whatever’s left of my insides.
Pretty sure if I start puking, it’s gonna turn into an exorcism. ”