Chapter 17

"Disqualification is off the table."

Darius said it like the words tasted rotten. He stood behind his desk, his hands flat on the surface, his jaw tight enough to crack stone.

Aria sat in Blake's office, listening through the thin wall. She shouldn't have been eavesdropping, but Blake had left the connecting door open—on purpose, she suspected.

"How is that possible?" Orion's voice came through, hot with disbelief. "We have evidence. Crystal-clear evidence. She tampered with proposals."

"And Knox has political cover that runs deeper than we thought." That was Blake, speaking from somewhere in Darius's study. "He called in favors from three council elders before the investigation even started. They're pushing for a reduced punishment—point deduction, not removal."

"A point deduction." Orion laughed, but it was bitter. "She cheated. She sabotaged another competitor. And she gets a slap on the wrist because her father has friends?"

"Welcome to politics," Darius said.

Silence. Then Orion again, quieter. "This isn't right."

"No. It isn't. But if we push for disqualification, Knox will demand a formal council hearing. That means opening the investigation to scrutiny. Every piece of evidence gets examined. Every witness gets questioned." Darius paused. "Including Aria. Including questions about why the kings seem so invested in protecting one particular competitor."

Another silence. Longer.

"So we take the point deduction," Orion said flatly.

"We take it. For now. But we don't forget."

Aria leaned back in Blake's chair and closed her eyes. The system was rigged. Knox had power, and he was using it to shield Vivian and whatever plan they were running. The evidence was right there, and it didn't matter.

She'd spent her whole life watching powerful people get away with things. Her father hit her for years, and no one in the pack said a word. Vivian cheated in a royal competition, and the worst she got was losing some points.

But this time, Aria had something she'd never had before.

Allies.

The investigation concluded the next morning. Elder Maren announced the ruling with barely concealed frustration: Vivian Knox would receive a thirty-point deduction but would remain in the competition. The Trial of Wisdom would continue with re-evaluated proposals. Aria's original work would be reconstructed based on her oral testimony and scored accordingly.

When the results came in two days later, the rankings were clear.

First place: Sera Thornfield.

Second place: Aria Blackwood.

Third place: Vivian Knox.

Vivian's face when she saw the board was something Aria wished she could frame. Pure, undiluted fury barely masked behind a polite smile.

"Congratulations," Vivian said as she passed Aria in the corridor. "Enjoy second place. It's the closest you'll ever get to a crown."

"Funny," Aria said. "I was going to say the same thing to you."

Vivian's smile cracked. Just for a second. Then she walked away, heels clicking on stone.

Luna appeared at Aria's side. "That was amazing."

"It felt good."

"It should. You earned it." Luna nudged her. "Second place in the wisdom trial. That means you're top three overall. Aria, you could actually win this thing."

Win. The word felt strange. She'd entered the competition expecting to survive it, not win it. And winning meant becoming Luna—the queen. Standing beside the kings. Her mates.

But that couldn't happen. Not with the curse still hanging over them.

"One thing at a time," she said.

The days settled into a pattern. Morning training. Afternoon preparation for the next trial. Evening meals where she sat with Luna and tried to ignore Vivian's stares and Knox's too-friendly smiles.

And the nights.

The nights belonged to them.

They came through the passage when the castle slept. Sometimes both of them. Sometimes just one. Orion brought warmth and laughter and a hunger that left her breathless. Darius brought quiet and depth and a tenderness that made her chest ache.

She was falling in love. She knew it with the certainty of a bone-deep truth. Not just the mate bond pulling her. Not just attraction. Real love.

Orion made her feel alive. He challenged her, teased her, pushed her to be bolder. When she was with him, the world was louder and brighter and more dangerous, and she loved every second of it.

Darius made her feel safe. He listened to her, studied her, anticipated her needs before she knew them herself. When she was with him, the world slowed down and made sense, and she never wanted it to speed up again.

Two men. Two halves of something whole. And she was the center they orbited around.

One night, a week after the trial results, Aria lay between them in the dark. Orion was drawing lazy patterns on her arm. Darius was reading by candlelight, one hand resting on her hip.

"I need to tell you something," she said.

Both of them went still. They could feel it through the bond—the weight of what she was about to say.

"Seraphina told me more about the curse. About how to break it."

Orion's hand stopped. Darius set down his book.

"She said it takes the blood of the First Luna's descendant. Given willingly during a blood moon, in the sacred circle where the curse was cast." Aria kept her voice steady. "I'm that descendant."

Silence.

"You already knew that part," she said.

"Yes," Darius said quietly.

"But here's what you don't know." She sat up, pulling the blanket around her. "The price is the descendant's life. My life. If I break the curse, I die."

The word "die" hit the room like a physical blow.

Orion sat up fast. "No."

"Orion—"

"No. Absolutely not. That's not an option."

"It might be the only option."

"Then we live with the curse!" His voice rose. "We don't claim you. We don't trigger it. We live like this forever if we have to."

"And what kind of life is that?" Aria asked. "Hiding? Pretending? Never being together in the open? You choosing a Luna you don't love while I go back to my father's pack and—"

"We'll find another way."

"What if there isn't another way?"

Orion grabbed her face with both hands, his green eyes burning. "Then we make one. I will tear apart every library, every archive, every ancient text in this kingdom until I find a way to break this curse that doesn't involve losing you. Do you hear me?"

She heard him. She felt his fear through the bond, sharp and raw and desperate.

She turned to Darius. He hadn't spoken. His expression was unreadable.

"Darius?"

"How sure is Seraphina?" he asked.

"She seemed certain."

"Seraphina is three hundred years old. She's certain about many things, and she's been wrong before." He reached out and took Aria's hand. His grip was firm but gentle. "There are always alternatives. Always loopholes. Morgana was clever, but she wasn't perfect. No curse is."

"And if the loophole is my death?"

His jaw tightened. Something flickered in his storm-blue eyes—a crack in the ice.

"We spent our lives accepting we'd never have a mate," he said, his voice rough in a way she'd never heard before. "We won't spend our deaths knowing we killed ours."

Orion pulled her into his chest. She could feel his heartbeat, fast and unsteady. Darius pressed close behind her, his forehead against the back of her neck.

Three people. One bond. And a curse that wanted to destroy all of it.

"Promise me," Orion said into her hair. "Promise you won't do anything without telling us."

"I promise."

"Aria." Darius's voice, low and serious. "If Knox or anyone else finds out that you're the key to breaking the curse—"

"I know."

"They'll use you. Or kill you. Either way, we can't let it happen."

She nodded. But even as she made the promise, a small cold voice in the back of her mind whispered: what if dying is the only way to save them?

She pushed the thought down. Buried it deep. And held on to her mates like they were the only real thing in a world full of lies.

Outside the window, the moon hung fat and silver in the sky. Not full yet.

But getting closer.