Chapter 11

"You're going to die."

Seraphina's words sat in Aria's chest like stones. Three days had passed since the old witch said them, and they still hadn't moved. Not even an inch.

Aria stood at the window of her room, watching the competitors train below. Her body had healed from the fight with Vivian. The bruises were gone. The cuts had closed. But something inside her felt cracked open and raw, like a wound no healer could reach.

"The next blood moon is in six months, child. The question is: are you willing to die to save the men you love?"

She pressed her forehead against the cold glass.

"I don't even know if I love them yet," she whispered to no one.

But that was a lie, wasn't it? She felt the bond pulling at her every second of the day. Two threads tied to her ribs, one warm and one cold, both tugging her toward men she barely knew but somehow couldn't live without.

A knock at the door pulled her back.

"Aria?" Luna's voice came through, soft and careful. "They're posting the results from the first trial. You need to come down."

Aria wiped her face even though it was dry. She opened the door and forced a smile.

"Let's go then."

The great hall was packed. Every competitor, every advisor, every noble in the castle seemed to have squeezed themselves inside. The air smelled like sweat and perfume and anxiety.

A large board had been set up at the front. Names and rankings, written in neat black ink.

Aria pushed through the crowd until she could see.

First place: Vivian Knox.

Second place: Sera Thornfield.

Third place: Aria Blackwood.

Third. She placed third.

Luna grabbed her arm and squeezed. "Third, Aria! Out of fifty women! That's amazing!"

Aria stared at her name. Third place. After a lifetime of being told she was nothing, she was third in a royal competition. Her wolf hummed with something that felt like pride.

But that warm feeling lasted about ten seconds.

"Well, well." Vivian appeared beside her, a smile sharp enough to cut glass on her face. "Third place. Not bad for someone who couldn't even shift a week ago."

Aria didn't look at her. "Congratulations on first."

"Thank you. I earned it." Vivian leaned closer. "Unlike some people, I didn't need a mysterious burst of power to win my fights. Makes you wonder what kind of tricks you're hiding."

Luna stepped forward. "She's not hiding anything. Back off, Vivian."

Vivian laughed, light and pretty and completely fake. "Relax, little wolf. I'm just making conversation." She walked away, her hips swaying like she owned the room.

"I hate her," Luna said.

"Get in line," Aria muttered.

She tried to hold on to the small victory. Third place. It meant something. It had to mean something.

But the feeling died completely when a guard appeared at her elbow.

"Miss Blackwood. Your father requests your presence in his guest quarters. Immediately."

Aria's stomach dropped. She looked at Luna, who had gone pale.

"You don't have to go," Luna whispered.

"Yes, I do."

She followed the guard through the castle, each step heavier than the last. She knew what was waiting. She always knew.

Alpha Blackwood's guest quarters were on the east side, far from the royal wing. The guard knocked, then stepped aside. Aria went in alone.

Her father stood by the fireplace. He didn't turn around when she entered. The door clicked shut behind her.

"Third place," he said.

"Yes, Father."

"I told you to fail."

"No. You told me not to embarrass the pack. Third place isn't embarrassing."

He turned then. His eyes were cold. Not angry yet. That would come. Right now he was in the quiet phase, the one that was somehow worse.

"You think you're clever, girl?"

"I think I competed fairly and did well."

He crossed the room in three steps. Aria didn't flinch. She'd learned years ago that flinching made it worse.

"I sent you here to fade into the background. To be invisible. And instead, you're making yourself a target. A white wolf? That power you used against the Knox girl? People are asking questions about you, Aria. Questions I don't want answered."

"What questions? What are you so afraid of?"

The slap came fast. His open palm connected with the left side of her face, and her head snapped sideways. Pain exploded across her cheekbone. Stars popped behind her eyes.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that." His voice was low now, controlled. "You killed your mother. You've been nothing but a curse on this family since the day you were born. And now you want to stand in front of kings and pretend you're worthy of something?"

Aria tasted blood where her teeth had cut the inside of her cheek.

"You will throw the next trial," he said. "You will place dead last. And when this competition is over, you will come home and never leave the pack grounds again. Do you understand me?"

She didn't answer. Couldn't. Her face was on fire and her eyes were burning, but she would not cry. Not in front of him. Never in front of him.

"Get out."

She walked to the door. Opened it. Stepped through. Closed it behind her. Then she walked down the hallway with her back straight and her chin up, because that was how she survived. One step after another. Don't stop. Don't break.

She made it all the way back to her wing before her legs gave out. She pressed herself against the stone wall and slid down, her hand on her swollen cheek.

That's where they found her.

She heard their footsteps first. Two sets, moving fast, almost running. Then she looked up and saw them. Orion and Darius, side by side, turning the corner.

They stopped dead.

Orion saw it first. His eyes dropped to her face, to the bruise already forming purple and ugly across her cheekbone. Something in him shifted. His green eyes flashed bright gold, and a sound came out of his throat that wasn't human. It was his wolf. Raw and murderous.

Darius saw it a second later. He didn't make a sound. He went completely still, which was somehow more terrifying. His storm-blue eyes turned black.

"Who." Orion's voice was barely a voice. It was gravel and fury. "Who did this to you?"

"I fell," Aria said. "During training. I—"

"Don't lie to us." Darius crouched beside her. His fingers hovered over the bruise, not touching, like he was afraid of hurting her more. "This is a handprint, Aria. Someone hit you."

"It's nothing. I'm fine."

Orion punched the wall. Stone cracked under his fist. "Tell me who it was. Right now."

"I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Darius asked.

Aria looked at him. Then at Orion. Two kings. Two of the most powerful men in the world. And they were kneeling beside her in a hallway, shaking with rage because someone had put a mark on her face.

"Won't," she said quietly.

Orion looked like he wanted to tear the castle apart with his bare hands. Darius looked like he was already planning how to bury whoever did this without anyone ever finding the body.

"Aria—" Orion started.

"Please," she said. "Just... not tonight. Please."

Something in her voice must have reached them, because Orion's shoulders dropped and Darius's jaw unclenched. Just barely.

Darius reached down and lifted her to her feet like she weighed nothing. Orion moved to her other side.

"We're taking you to the healers," Darius said.

"No. I just need to rest."

"That wasn't a suggestion."

She was too tired to fight them. She let them walk her down the hall, one king on each side, their bodies blocking her from view in case anyone passed by.

But as they walked, Aria felt something behind them. A presence. A gaze.

She glanced over her shoulder.

At the far end of the corridor, half hidden in shadow, her father stood watching. And the look on his face wasn't anger anymore.

It was fear.