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The witch's eyes glinted. "They expected it."

"If I were to aid you, I would also preserve the lie. That was the deal."

"What lie?" Blaidd asked, though something in him already knew.

She leaned close enough that he could smell smoke and iron on her breath. "That Isolde is what she appears to be."

The words settled like ash.

"To honour her sacrifice—because once a changeling leaves the nest, she cannot go back—she will be absorbed by the tree once she delivers the offspring they need," the witch went on, voice cool and inexorable. "You will be forbidden to speak of the changelings. Forbidden to name them. Forbidden to expose them. Forbidden to speak of what happened with Isolde. Once this child is born, she will realize there are no more on the horizon and will return to the tree. Do not try to take the child; she is more powerful than you think."

His chest felt like it would cave in.

"You will not move her belongings," she said. "You will not disturb the shrine she has made of your home. You will not disrupt the illusion."

"For how long after she is gone?" he whispered through dry lips. He knew this was not about honouring Isolde; it was all about torturing him.

Her smile was sharp with pleasure. "For as long as she has been by your side."

Understanding struck him with brutal clarity.

It had been almost eight years since he met Isolde.

Even as he gave in and screamed as she carved the runes into his arm, he felt death was better than what lay ahead.

***

Present

"I agreed to the silencing spell," Blaidd said, voice hollow. "I had to hold my tongue and my thoughts because I believed my true mate was dead. And because I expected to die once Isolde did. I thought it would end with me."

Chapter 17

The explanations had depleted Blaidd's dwindling strength, but he knew there would be no respite until they knew everything. As expected, the silence did not last.

"Why didn't you go to the elders? Why didn't you speak to your parents?" Maxen asked quietly. "If you suspected…if you knew in your heart that something was wrong, then why didn't you bring it before the council?"

Blaidd nodded once, as if he had been expecting the question. "I did. Before I went to the witch, I went to them more than once. Not my parents, because I didn't want to worry them," Blaidd continued. "I laid it out as carefully as I could while trying not to sound mad. But what could I say? That my wolf and I are at odds? That I felt Isolde was an impostor was living the life of the alphamate? That the bond felt…off, but I couldn't quite explain why."

He looked out of the window.

"They watched Isolde. They even had one of the Moonwarden’s advisors come down on some other pretext." His mouth tightened. "They found nothing. There was no trace of magic."

Sion frowned. "Nothing at all?"

"Nothing," Blaidd said. "They told me she was a werewolf. And that I need to put my misgivings aside and cherish her."

A bitter edge crept into his voice. "They said what any council would say when faced with a wolf they felt was shirking his duty as a lifemate. They advised me to have a child."

You're seeing ghosts because you're broken.

"So, after that," Blaidd went on, "I kept my suspicions to myself. I tried—Goddess knows I did." His shoulders sagged. "But I couldn't bond with the twins. Months would pass, and I had no desire to touch her. No urge to be near her."

He hesitated. "I started getting suspicious a few months after the twins were born. It didn't help that she began growing silphium* in the herb garden." His voice roughened. "That…gutted me. When I asked her about it, she brushed it off. Said she wanted time with me before the cubs came."

He shook his head faintly.

"It was worse the last few years. I felt like a failure. And then she became pregnant and by then I didn’t want any children with her..l"