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“He’s not...”

“I wasn’t finished.” Her voice cracked like a whip, and I fell silent. “You have a choice, Carolina. One choice. And you will make it today, in this room, before the ancestors and the old gods.”

She raised her hand, and the air between us shimmered. Two orbs of light appeared, floating at eye level. One was golden, warm, pulsing with familiar magic. The other was silver, cold, vibrating with power I’d never felt before.

“Option one,” she said, gesturing to the golden orb. “You keep him. As he is. Cursed, clumsy, broken. The curse remains intact, permanent, unbreakable. But you stay in the coven. You remain my heir. You keep your magic, your lineage, your place in our world. You prove that you love him despite his weakness. That you’re willing to accept him as the cripple he’s become.”

I stared at the golden orb, my chest tight. Keep Logan cursed. Keep him stumbling, hurting, humiliated for the rest of his existence. But keep my family. My power. My place.

“Option two,” she continued, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I stay the curse now. The pain stops. He keeps what strength remains. In three days, when the coven formally ratifies your exile, I dissolve the anchor completely and restore his grace permanently.”

She paused, and the silver orb pulsed brighter.

“But you leave the coven. Forever. You renounce your lineage, your magic, your family. You walk away from everything I’ve built, everything I’ve given you, everything you are. You choose him over your birthright. And you do it knowing that without coven protection, without our name, you’ll be vulnerable. Targeted. Alone.”

The two orbs hung in the air between us, golden warmth and silver cold, and I felt the weight of the choice pressing down on me like a stone.

“You’re asking me to choose between his happiness and mine,” I said quietly.

“I’m asking you to prove what kind of woman you are.” She stepped closer, her eyes searching my face. “Are you the dutiful daughter who accepts responsibility, who puts her coven and her family above her own desires? Or are you the selfish girl who throws away centuries of tradition for a pretty face and a romantic notion?”

“He’s not a romantic notion,” I said, my voice shaking. “He’s my mate. My true mate. The bond is real, Mother. Ancient. Unbreakable. You know it is.”

“I know that bonds can be endured,” she said coldly. “Duty can outweigh desire.”

Her lip curled around the next word as if it tasted foul.

“Love is a luxury powerful women cannot afford.”

I looked at the golden orb. At the life she was offering me. Logan, broken and cursed, but by my side. My power intact. My family preserved. The heir to one of the most powerful covens in Arrhythmia.

It would be so easy. So safe. So expected.

And Logan would suffer forever.

I looked at the silver orb. Freedom for him. Wholeness. Grace. The vampire he was supposed to be, not the joke she’d made him.

And for me? Exile. Loneliness. The loss of everything I’d ever known.

But I’d have him. Whole. Free. Happy.

“How long do I have to choose?” I asked.

“Now.” Her voice was final. “You choose now, or I choose for you. And you won’t like my choice.”

I closed my eyes. Took a breath. Let the bond hum in my chest, that warm, electric connection that tied me to Logan across any distance. I thought of him in his bed this morning, his face peaceful, his body exhausted from fighting her magic. I thought of the way he’d looked at me in the alley, like I was the most beautiful woman in the world. I thought of his hands on my waist, his lips on mine, his voice whispering that I was perfect.

I thought of the life she wanted me to lead. Powerful. Controlled. Alone. The perfect daughter of a perfect monster, crushing anyone who displeased me, just as she’d taught me.

I opened my eyes.

“I choose the silver,” I said.

My mother’s face didn’t change. But something flickered in her eyes. Something that might have been pain, if she were capable of it.

“You’re certain.”

“I am.” I stepped toward the silver orb, feeling its cold power wash over me. “I love him, Mother. Not the idea of him. Not the romance. Him. And I can’t be happy knowing he’s suffering because of me. Because I chose safety over his freedom.”