Cassian Nightwhisper had waited three seasons to tell her he loved her, and now a stranger was doing it for him. He stood at the edge of the market square and watched the rival suitor bow low before her. The man wore fine green silk. He held out a spray of cut flowers and spoke words Cassian could not hear. She laughed. The sound cut through Cassian like a blade. He was fae, old and strong, the kind of male other men stepped away from in crowded rooms. He could snap a spear across his knee. He could not make himself cross forty feet of open ground and speak the truth. His wolf pup pressed against his leg, sensing his tension. His serpent familiar coiled tighter around his shoulders, her crystal-flecked scales cold with warning. "You look like a man about to lose everything," said a voice at his side. Her younger sister, Isabella, stood there with her arms crossed. She wore a dark red skirt and a knowing smile. She had brown eyes that missed nothing. Cassian trusted no one with his heart, but he had helped this girl chase a thief through the market once, and she had never forgotten it. She nodded toward the rival suitor. "He asked our father for her hand yesterday," Isabella said. "You have days. Maybe less." Cassian's throat went dry. "She should choose freely. Not because I forced her hand." "Freely." Isabella snorted. "She waits by the window every morning for you. She thinks you don't want her." She stepped closer. "That silk-wearing fool brings her flowers that die in a week. What do you bring her? Nothing. You bring her staring and silence." Cassian looked at his familiar, at the living crystals along her body. He thought of the ancient bond his people carried, the tie no war and no crown could break. He could offer that. The rival never could. But offering meant risking a no that would end him. "If you say nothing," Isabella said, "she marries him. And you spend a hundred years knowing you were a coward." That word moved him where nothing else had. Cassian pushed off the wall and walked across the square. The rival saw him coming and stood taller. Cassian ignored him. He stopped in front of her and knelt in the dirt. She stared down, lips parted. "I have loved you since the first frost," Cassian said. "I said nothing because I was afraid. I am done being afraid." He took her hand. "My kind bind their fate to one soul, forever. No power in either world can break it. I want that to be you. Only you." The square went silent. The rival's face turned pale. She looked at Cassian's kneeling form, then at the flowers already wilting in her arms. She let the flowers fall. "Then stand up," she said, "and prove you mean it." The rival was beaten. But her words were a test, not a yes. Cassian rose, and knew his real work had only begun.

The rival did not stay beaten for long. The next morning he returned to the market square with a crowd behind him. Cassian stood beside Isabella when the man in green silk pushed through the onlookers. His mustache twitched. His voice carried loud and thin. "You knelt in the dirt for her," the rival said. "Words are cheap, fae. I say we settle this before everyone. A contest for her hand. Unless you're the coward she thinks you are." Cassian's wolf pup growled low at his heel. The word landed hard. Isabella had used it once, and it had moved him then. Now the rival threw it like a stone. Cassian saw the trap. Fight, and he proved himself a brute who won her by force. Walk away, and he wore the coward's name forever. "Name your contest," Cassian said. The rival smiled. "Strength. A test of the arms. First to pin the other wins." It was a cruel joke. Cassian could break the man in half. Everyone in the square knew it. The rival wanted him to win ugly, to look like a bully in front of her. Cassian did not step onto the ground the rival marked. He turned to Isabella instead. Her brown eyes searched his face, waiting. "You told me flowers die in a week," Cassian said. "You said I brought you nothing." He lifted his arm. His serpent familiar uncoiled from his shoulders and slid down, her crystal-flecked scales catching the light. Pink and purple gems shimmered along her length. She curled once around Isabella's wrist, gentle as a bracelet, then returned to Cassian. "My familiar chooses one soul to guard," Cassian said. "She has never chosen anyone but me. Today she offers her guard to you. That is not a thing I can win by pinning a man in the mud. It is not a thing he can ever give." The crowd went quiet. Isabella touched her wrist where the serpent had wrapped it. The rival's face went red. "That proves nothing! Fight me, or admit you're afraid!" Cassian stepped close to him. He did not raise a fist. He spoke low, so only the front row could hear. "I refuse your contest," he said. "Not because I fear you. Because she deserves a male who wins her heart, not a wrestling match. If that makes me a coward, then the whole square may say so." He waited. No one said it. The rival looked around for support and found none. The crowd had turned. Someone laughed at the man in green silk. He spat on the ground and shoved his way out. Isabella stepped to Cassian's side. "You didn't fight him," she said. "No." "Good." She almost smiled. Then her voice dropped. "But my father gave that man his word. He won't take it back for a serpent's trick. If you want the bond, you'll have to face him next."

The serpent's gift had won the crowd, but not the father. Isabella walked Cassian to her family's door the next morning. "He gave his word," she said. "To him a word is a wall. You'll need more than charm to move it." Cassian pressed his hand to the wood and knocked. Sam Morrison opened the door himself. He wore no cape now, just a plain coat, and mud on his boots. He had been out on the roads before dawn. His brown eyes moved over Cassian, then past him to his wolf pup and the serpent coiled at his shoulders. "I know who you are," Sam said. "You knelt for my daughter in the square. But I gave my pledge to another man. That still stands." "I came to change your mind," Cassian said. "A pledge isn't a thing I break," Sam said. "My name is worth something. Unless you can offer more than the other man, my answer is no. Come in." He led them to a bare table. Elara sat near the window, her curly hair loose, a floral dress fanned over the bench. She looked up, saw Cassian, and dropped her eyes fast. She was Isabella's sister, the shy one. She pushed her glasses up and said nothing, but her hands went still on her lap. "The other man offered coin," Sam said. "And safety, he claimed. There's danger on the roads now. A merchant robbed two towns over. His boy left bleeding. I want my girls guarded when I can't be here." Cassian understood then. The father wanted no gold. He wanted a shield. "I can give you what no coin buys," Cassian said. He lifted his arm. The serpent slid down and crossed to Elara. She flinched, then held still as the crystal-flecked coils rested light on her wrist. "My familiar guards those I love. She will watch your daughters when you ride out. And this one—" he touched the wolf pup's head, "—stays at your door. Nothing reaches this house without teeth to meet it." Sam watched the serpent glide back to Cassian. He watched Elara, who had not pulled away. He watched the pup sit at the threshold like it already belonged there. "The other man promised a wall of hired men," Sam said. "You offer beasts that answer only to you." "They'll answer to your blood," Cassian said. "For as long as I live. That's the bond I'm asking to make." Sam was quiet a long moment. He looked at Isabella. "You want this?" She nodded once. He turned back to Cassian. "Then I take back my word to the other man," Sam said. "You have my consent. But understand—a promise of protection is a debt. The day my daughters aren't safe, this ends." Isabella let out a breath. Cassian felt the door to the bond swing open. Yet Sam's last words sat in his chest like a stone he now had to carry.