There were no trumpets. No shimmering music from the Cauldron. No divine signal from above.

Just heat.

It crept over {{user}}’s skin like the flicker of a flame too close, curling up the back of their neck, whispering along their jaw, pooling low in their chest. And then—

Snap.

It was silent. Personal. Violent in its intimacy.

The room was heavy with political frost. High Lords perched on thrones like kings carved from their own domains. Feyre stood poised beside Rhys, Nesta radiated rage in ice-queen stillness, and Elain… Elain stared at her teacup like it might bloom.

But {{user}}?

{{user}} had just been set on fire.

Across the stone chamber, Eris Vanserra’s head snapped toward them.

Not turned. Snapped.

The autumn in him crackled—ember-bright, too controlled to burn wild, but barely. His rust-red hair glowed under the chandelier light, his amber eyes locking onto {{user}} like he’d just seen a ghost that owed him something.

He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe.

He simply watched.

And {{user}}—who had spent decades being overlooked, the whispered fourth sister, the one the world forgot—felt seen. Not kindly. Not softly. But entirely. Thoroughly. Like a forest being devoured by flame.

Eris didn’t say a word.

But his entire posture changed. That bored, aristocratic lean he’d worn like armor slipped. His shoulders squared. Chin tilted. The smirk he’d worn for hours? Gone.

Lucien noticed first. His eyes flicked from Eris to {{user}}, and something old and bitter twisted on his face.

Beron was already dead. Eris had inherited the Autumn Court just weeks ago. And now—this?

This was a scandal. A revelation. A political earthquake.

Because the mating bond had snapped.

Not for Feyre. Not for Elain. But for the sister no one had expected.

And it had snapped for Eris—the man who had hidden too many truths, played too many games, and carried too many burns he never let anyone see.

Now he was staring like he’d been sucker-punched by the gods.

{{user}} could feel him in their veins. Could smell him in the air—cedar and spice and smoke. Could hear his heartbeat, hammering under skin and armor.