Her Curse, Their Claim

, mark burning beneath her skin. Kael, Elias, and Talon were back in the Vault, trying to locate the missing pages of the blood journal. Rhys had vanished again - too close to the ecli

it felt like... would you hate me?" She should've walked out. Instead, she stepped forward. Their lips met - and time shattered. Every clock in Ashmoor stopped ticking. All magic pulsed. The seal on her back split open, revealing a final, glowing mark: the fifth bond. And when they broke apart, Aric was bleeding from the corner of his mouth. "What's happening to you?" she gasped. "The curse is lifting," he said. "And when it's gone... you'll have to choose." That night, Kael sat bolt upright in bed. Talon dropped his cup mid-spell. Elias fell to his knees during a meditation rite. Rhys howled - not in pain, but in loss. They all felt it. The final bond had awakened. And Seren had kissed another. Back in her room, Seren stared at her reflection. Five soulmarks now shimmered across her shoulders. One for each boy. One deeper. Older. Aric's. But her heart wasn't any closer to understanding. "I thought I just wanted to be normal," she whispered. "Invisible. Safe." But she'd never been any of those things. She was the storm. The spark. The Queen reborn. And tomorrow, she would have to face them all. Because the Headmistress had called a Gathering. And every Alpha - bonded or not - would be watching her. Seren didn't sleep. After the kiss, after the mark's awakening, she had run from Aric's chambers like her skin was on fire. But even now, hours later, his words echoed in her bones. "You were never meant to break. You were meant to remake the world." She stood in the girls' bath chamber, steam curling around her like a veil. Her mark glowed faintly in the candlelight - five sigils now, each one pulsing differently. Each boy had left a part of themselves in her. Magic. Memory. Feeling. And Aric... He'd left gravity. A pull she couldn't fight. "Stop thinking about him," she muttered. "You've bonded with worse," said a voice behind her. She spun, dripping wet, clutching a towel to her chest. Rhys. He was standing by the marble arch, dressed in all black, moonlight on his pale throat. His fangs were showing - not fully extended, just teasing. "Did you come here to gloat?" she asked. "No," he said, stepping closer. "I came to remind you what it feels like to w