Page 19 of Shifting Hearts

FIVE

Kieran

T he mansion exhales as I push open the front doors, the wards humming low beneath the stone.

Midnight clings to the walls like fog, and Raven’s steps falter just inside the threshold.

She’s bone-tired, I can see it in the way her shoulders sag, in the way her eyes flicker over the shadows like they might bite.

I don’t blame her. This place has teeth.

“Come on,” I command, keeping my voice low. “You need rest.”

She doesn’t argue, just follows me through the main hall, past flickering sconces and portraits that shift when you’re not looking. The house is quiet tonight, but not silent. It’s listening. It always listens.

I lead her up the stairs, past the east wing– sealed since the last blood moon, and down the corridor that doesn’t always stay straight. The guest room waits at the end, warm and untouched, the fire already lit. The house prepared it. That’s a good sign.

I open the door and step aside. “Here.”

She hesitates, eyes narrowing. “You’re not going to show me around first?”

I shake my head. “Later. The house is... temperamental after midnight, and you’re exhausted.”

She steps inside slowly, gaze sweeping the room like she expects it to vanish. The firelight paints her skin in gold and shadow, and something in me tightens.

“I know you don’t trust me,” I state, leaning against the doorframe. “But I need you to hear this. I’m not here to hurt you.”

She turns, arms crossed, chin lifted. “Then why do I feel like I’ve walked into a trap?”

I step forward, just enough to feel the edge of her energy brush mine. It’s wild. Unsettled. Familiar.

“Because something inside you woke up,” I whisper. “And it’s drawing things to you, things that don’t care if you live or burn.”

Her breath catches.

“I swore an oath to protect what’s sacred,” I continue. “And whether you like it or not, Raven—you’re sacred now.”

She doesn’t speak, she just watches me like she’s trying to decide if I’m the monster or the shield.

I nod toward the bed. “Sleep. The house will keep you safe tonight, and I’ll be just down the hall.”

I start to turn, but her voice stops me.

“Kieran.”

I look back.

“Why me?”

I meet her gaze, and for a moment, the truth presses against my teeth.

“Because the prophecy didn’t name you,” I utter. “It warned about you.”

I wait until her door clicks shut behind me, until the house settles around her like a protective shroud. Then I turn down the west corridor, past the mirror that doesn’t reflect anything after dusk, and into my room.

The wards hum as I cross the threshold. Familiar. Heavy. Binding.

I don’t light the candles. I don’t need to. The shadows know me here. They curl around the edges of the room like loyal beasts, whispering in tongues older than language itself.

I shrug off my coat, toss it over the armchair, and sink onto the edge of the bed. My bones ache. Not from battle, but restraint.

She’s here. Finally . And every instinct I’ve buried claws its way to the surface.

Mine .

The word pulses through me like a drumbeat. Not just desire, not just fate. Something deeper. Older. The mark on my shoulder burns faintly, reacting to her presence even through stone walls and layered wards.

I grip the edge of the mattress, knuckles white.

I was warned this would happen– that when the mate bond snapped into place, it wouldn’t be gentle. It would be wildfire. Ruin. A reckoning.

Gods help me, I want it.

But she’s not ready. Not yet. She doesn’t know what she is, what she carries. The prophecy didn’t name her—it veiled her. Hid her from the ones who would use her, break her, claim her without love.

I won’t be one of them.

I close my eyes, letting the house speak. It murmurs of bloodlines and broken oaths, of the last time a bond like this was forged, and the war it unleashed.

I see her face behind my eyelids. Tired. Fierce. Fragile in ways she doesn’t admit.

She’s not just my mate. She’s the fulcrum. The storm. The key.

And if I claim her too soon, I could lose her forever.

I stand, pacing. The shadows follow.

I need to protect her. Teach her. Let her choose me freely.

But every time she looks at me with those haunted eyes, every time her scent brushes my skin, I feel the tether tighten.

The bond is awakening.

And soon, she will too.