“When Oberon forged the bridge between realms, he relied on the power of each High Lord-a fragment of magic from each of them to sustain the connection,” Emiliano explained, his voice thoughtful. “The six Fae Lords rarely agree, and it can take centuries to bring them together in one place. But you, Isabella… you embody that spell itself. What they can achieve collectively, you have the power to do alone.”
Leonardo’s gaze flicked briefly to mine. “She could tear open the doorway between realms-or close it forever.”
Emiliano nodded, his face somber. “She’s the Fae’s salvation… and humanity’s doom.”
Eventually, exhaustion won out, and I managed to convince Emiliano to save further training for tomorrow. After a lengthy warning about the Fae who would soon arrive, I retreated upstairs to the spare bedroom. The warmth from the fireplace pulled me toward sleep, though my stomach protested with a low, empty growl. I couldn’t muster the energy to go back downstairs.
Night had already set in, stretching shadows across the snowy world outside. The moon would soon cast its silver light, painting the landscape in a quiet, icy glow. I lay beneath the heavy quilts, and the silence grew so profound I could almost taste it. Blue had fallen silent, mulling over the whirlwind of recent events. Everything had changed-first, when Leonardo rejected me; then, when my mother died; and now, even more deeply with this transformation. I was no longer purely a werewolf, but something else. I still felt Blue within me, though, and knew I could shift if I chose to.
*What are we, Blue?* I asked, needing some reassurance.
*I’m not sure, Isabella,* she answered, her voice gentle, reassuring. *Something new, I suppose.*
Sleep finally claimed me, pulling me into blissful darkness where I was neither Fae nor wolf, no one’s mate or true-mate. Just a drifting soul in peaceful oblivion. But the dreamless escape didn’t last.
I woke after a few hours and found myself staring out at the snow falling in heavy flakes outside the window. My stomach twisted with hunger, sending a pulse of nausea through me. I reluctantly slipped from the warmth of bed, pulled on thick socks, and crept into the hall, only to stop when I heard voices drifting up from the living room.
Emiliano and Leonardo were speaking openly, their tones calm but weighty, and I heard the word I’d been fixating on since this transformation: *true-mates.*
“You’re fortunate, Leonardo,” Emiliano said, his voice laden with centuries of experience. “Most Fae live countless years without meeting their true-mate. Some marry and raise children but never know the fulfillment of that bond.”
“You say this from experience?” Leonardo’s voice was a soft rumble, and I stilled at the sound. “Have you ever met yours?”
“All Fae have a true-mate, though only the profoundly lucky meet theirs,” Emiliano replied. “I haven’t found mine, but I’ve seen the bond. My parents were true-mates.”
“Are they…?”
“No longer alive,” Emiliano confirmed, his tone heavy. “The Fae are ageless but not invincible. My parents died together, as all true-mates do when facing death.”
Leonardo went silent, then asked, “I don’t understand what makes a true-mate different from a mate. They sound like the same thing.”
“It’s not the same,” Emiliano said. “For shifters, a mate is designed to complement you. Together, you create the strongest offspring. But a true-mate is different-they are half your soul. You can’t deny or reject a true-mate bond. It transcends love and binds you at a level even we Fae struggle to comprehend. When the bond is complete, two souls become one, sharing thoughts, emotions… even death. If one dies, so does the other.”
Leonardo’s reply was softer, yet burdened. “I rejected her once. Back when we were just… mates. She won’t accept me now. Not after what I did.”
“She can try to resist, but it would mean denying a part of her own soul,” Emiliano murmured, a sad understanding in his voice.
Leonardo’s words were raw with regret. “I think back to that day constantly, trying to understand. My father raised me to respect my mate, yet the moment I saw Isabella… I rejected her.”
Emiliano’s voice softened with a wisdom beyond his years. “Give her time. The true-mate bond is rare, a gift meant to be cherished. In time, she’ll come to see it. No one can deny their soul’s match for long. Your support will be crucial as she learns to navigate this transformation.”
That was enough. I stumbled back into my room, hoping they hadn’t sensed me listening. My pulse was frantic, and I was overcome by the instinct to flee-to run as far from Leonardo as possible. But my body wouldn’t let me go, and deep down, I felt Emiliano’s words were true.
There was a connection between us, undeniable and consuming. Even now, I was drawn to him, captivated by his presence, his voice, his very essence. My soul seemed to reach for his, recognizing something of itself there. I wanted to go back to him, to demand answers, to seek out his touch. But instead, I turned toward the bedroom window, where I could see the snow blanketing the world outside, and knew what I needed to do.