Chapter 67: Compromised
Three days of Fae training and I’d died seven times, which was seven times more than I wanted to die but significantly less than Eirlys had planned apparently because they kept expressing disappointment that I was "still breathing."
The Fae had a really warped sense of success metrics.
Also they’d brought fifty of their own warriors who’d set up camp on the eastern edge of pack territory and refused to integrate with the alliance, which was creating tension because wolves didn’t like strangers on their land and the Fae didn’t care what wolves liked.
"They’re building permanent structures." Marcus’s voice was tight during the daily alliance meeting. "Not temporary camps. Permanent buildings. Like they’re planning to stay indefinitely." freewebnσvel.cøm
Indefinitely. Right. Because the Fae never did anything temporarily when they could claim territory instead.
"Can we stop them?" One of the visiting Alphas—I think his name was Derek but my brain was too fried from dying repeatedly to remember basic information.
"No." Kael’s voice was controlled. Too controlled. "They’re bound by the alliance agreement. Which means they have equal claim to defensive positions."
Equal claim. Which meant the Fae were basically colonizing pack territory and we couldn’t do anything about it because of the alliance I’d agreed to.
Great. Every decision I made just created new problems.
"The Hybrid Queen will address the territorial concerns." Eirlys’s voice came from the doorway and everyone turned to find them standing there looking like they owned the place.
Which, technically, they kind of did now that I was oath-bound to them.
"I will?" The question came out before I could stop it.
"You will." Command weight in the words. "Come. Now."
The oath flared and my body stood before my brain finished processing, and through the bonds I felt all four mates spike with fury that I couldn’t refuse.
I followed Eirlys out of the meeting room because I had no choice, and we ended up in their newly constructed building which was somehow larger inside than outside because Fae architecture ignored physics.
"Sit." They gestured to a chair and the oath compelled me down.
This was—this was wrong. Being commanded like a puppet. Having no autonomy. No choice.
"You are learning the cost of power." Eirlys settled across from me. "The Seelie Court does not grant strength freely. We own you. Completely. Your mates are... displeased."
Displeased was putting it mildly. Kael had barely spoken to me in two days. Riven kept trying to find loopholes in the oath. Thorne was one wrong word from going feral. Draven had retreated into clinical detachment.
The mate bonds were straining under the weight of the fealty oath and I didn’t know how to fix it.
"The bonds conflict with the oath." Eirlys’s voice was almost gentle. Almost. "Mate bonds demand equality. Fealty demands submission. The two cannot coexist harmoniously."
Cannot coexist. My stomach dropped.
"You’re saying I have to choose?" The words came out strangled.
"I am saying you already chose." They leaned forward. "The oath supersedes all other bonds. Including mate bonds. If we command you to leave them, you will leave. If we command you to hurt them, you will hurt them. The mate bonds will not protect you from us. Or them from you."
If we command you to hurt them, you will hurt them.
No. No no no—
"You wouldn’t." But my voice was shaking because I knew they would. The Fae didn’t bluff.
"We will do whatever is necessary to ensure you are ready to face The Root." Eirlys stood. "And if that means breaking your mate bonds to remove distractions, we will break them. The choice is yours—focus on training and we leave the bonds intact. Resist, and we sever them permanently."
Sever them permanently. That was—mate bonds couldn’t be severed except by death. Could they?
"Fae magic can sever anything." They answered my unspoken question. "Even bonds forged by ancient magic. We simply need your consent. Which the fealty oath can compel."
Which the fealty oath can compel. Right. So even my refusal to consent wasn’t actually refusal because they could command me to agree.
I was trapped. Completely. No escape.
"Tomorrow’s training." Eirlys moved toward the door. "You will practice temporal manipulation on a living target. We have selected one of your wolves. You will age them twenty years and then reverse it. Repeatedly. Until you master the control."
A living target. One of MY wolves.
"I won’t—" The oath caught the refusal in my throat and I couldn’t finish.
"You will." They smiled. "Because we command it. And you belong to us. Do not be late."
They left and I just sat there trying to process that tomorrow I’d be commanded to age one of my own people repeatedly, potentially killing them, and I couldn’t refuse.
The mate bonds were screaming with my mates’ fury and horror, and when I finally made it back to our room all four of them were waiting.
"We heard." Kael’s voice was hollow. "Through the mind-link. What Eirlys said."
What Eirlys said. That the Fae could command me to hurt them. To leave them. To sever the mate bonds.
"We’ll find a way out of this." Riven’s voice was desperate. "There has to be—"
"There isn’t." I cut him off. "The oath is absolute. Morgana’s checked every record. There’s no loophole. No escape. I’m theirs until they release me or I die."
Until they release me or I die. And dying might not even work anymore since they were teaching me to reverse death.
"Then we kill them." Thorne’s voice was flat. Final. "All of them. Before The Root arrives."
"And face The Root with one hundred seventeen fighters instead of one hundred sixty-seven?" Draven’s clinical assessment cut through the rage. "We need the Fae. As much as I hate admitting it. We need them."
Need them. Right. Need them even though they owned me. Need them even though they were destroying everything that made me human.
Through the bonds I felt Kael’s certainty cracking, Riven’s patience fracturing, Thorne’s control slipping, Draven’s detachment failing.
The mate bonds were breaking under the strain of the fealty oath.
And tomorrow I’d hurt one of my own people because the Fae commanded it.
No choice. No refusal. No escape.
Just obedience.
Forever.
The Fae warriors weren’t like any fighters I’d trained with before. They didn’t eat with us. Didn’t train with us. Just watched from their permanent structures with expressions that suggested they were assessing us for weaknesses.
Which they probably were.
"They’re reporting back to the Seelie Court." One of Marcus’s scouts confirmed what we all suspected. "Daily reports. Every detail about our defenses. Our numbers. Our capabilities."
Every detail. Right. Because the Fae were allies but also occupiers, and trusting them was probably a mistake we’d regret.
Except we didn’t have a choice. The alliance needed their fifty warriors. Needed their resources. Needed them even if they were using us.
That afternoon I tried to approach their encampment and was stopped at the perimeter by a Fae guard who looked at me with those too-beautiful features and said flatly: "The Hybrid Queen may not enter without summons from Eirlys."
May not enter. I was bound to the Seelie Court by oath but couldn’t enter their camp without permission.
The contradiction would have been funny if it wasn’t horrifying.
"I just wanted to—" I started.
"You want nothing the Court has not granted you." The guard cut me off. "Return to your wolves, Hybrid Queen. You will be summoned when needed."
When needed. When they wanted to use me.
I left because arguing with Fae guards seemed pointless, and found Isabelle waiting near the training yard with an expression that meant bad news.
"Three more packs left." Her voice was quiet. "Saw the Fae occupation. Decided the alliance wasn’t worth it. We’re down to one hundred seven fighters."
One hundred seven. We’d lost ten more in the week since the Fae arrived.
The alliance was fracturing and I couldn’t stop it because I was too busy dying repeatedly on Fae command.
"It’s not your fault." She touched my arm gently. "The Fae are—they’re terrifying. People are scared."
Terrified. Right. Join the club.