Chapter 19

"You've been watching me."

Aria's voice was steady, but her pulse wasn't. She stood face to face with Knox in the herb garden, a place she'd chosen specifically because it was open and visible from a dozen castle windows.

Knox raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"Your daughter follows me. You ask questions about my bloodline. You show up wherever I am." She crossed her arms. "I'm not stupid, Beta Knox. What do you want?"

For a moment, something sharp flickered behind his polished smile. Then it was gone, replaced by the warm, fatherly expression he wore like a mask.

"My dear girl, you're mistaken. I take an interest in all the competitors. As Royal Beta, it's my duty—"

"Your duty is to serve the kings. Not interrogate their competitors about dead mothers and white wolves."

His smile thinned. Just barely. "You're bold. I respect that."

"I don't need your respect. I need you to stop."

She turned and walked away. Her back was straight. Her hands were shaking. She shoved them in her pockets before he could see.

Bold. That's what Orion would have done—confront the threat head-on. But as she walked, she heard Darius's voice in her head: Never show your enemy everything you know. Let them wonder.

She'd shown Knox that she was watching. But she hadn't shown him what she knew. Not about the gray-cloaked figures. Not about Morgana's followers. Not about the curse.

Let him wonder.

The confrontation fueled her. She threw herself into preparation for the remaining wisdom trial challenges with a focus that surprised even her. Darius had given her a framework. Political problems had patterns—resources, power, fear. Understand what each side was afraid of losing, and you could find common ground.

She applied this to every scenario the judges presented. Trade disputes. Succession conflicts. Border negotiations. Where other competitors offered idealistic solutions, Aria offered practical ones. Where they quoted theory, she drew from experience.

By the time the final wisdom rankings were posted, Aria had climbed from third overall to second.

The court noticed. The competitors noticed. Everyone noticed.

And the nights kept burning.

Orion came to her that evening through the passage, still smelling like the training grounds—sweat and leather and woodsmoke. He picked her up the second he was through the door, spun her around, and kissed her hard.

"Second place overall," he said against her mouth. "I'm so proud of you."

"Put me down."

"Never." He kissed her again. "You were brilliant today. The way you handled that border scenario—I wanted to stand up and applaud."

"That would've been discreet."

He grinned. That wild, reckless grin that made her wolf howl. "Discretion is overrated."

Darius came through twenty minutes later, quieter, carrying a book under his arm. He looked at Orion, who had Aria pinned to the bed in a tickle fight, and sighed.

"We're supposed to be discussing strategy."

"Strategy can wait." Orion didn't let go of Aria. "She placed second, Darius. Our mate placed second."

Something warm passed across Darius's face. He set down the book and sat on the edge of the bed.

"You did well today," he said simply.

From Darius, those four words meant more than all of Orion's enthusiastic praise.

Aria pulled herself free of Orion and sat up. "Thank you. Both of you. I couldn't have done it without the preparation."

"You could have," Darius said. "You've been solving these problems your whole life. We just gave you the vocabulary."

Orion draped himself across the bed, his head in Aria's lap. "Speaking of problems. Knox."

The mood shifted.

"What about him?" Aria asked.

"I had a conversation with him today," Darius said. "A careful one. I told him I'd noticed his interest in the competitors and reminded him that his role is advisory, not investigative."

"How did he take it?"

"He smiled. Agreed. Said he'd been too enthusiastic." Darius's expression didn't change. "He's a good liar. But not good enough."

"What tipped you off?"

"His heartbeat. When I mentioned the competitors, it was steady. When I mentioned your name specifically, it spiked."

Aria's stomach dropped. "So he's focused on me."

"Specifically on you. Yes."

Orion sat up, all playfulness gone. "Then we pull her out. She drops from the competition, goes somewhere safe—"

"No." Aria's voice was firm. "If I drop out, Knox wins. He wants me isolated. He wants me away from the castle, away from you, away from Blake's protection. Out there, I'm an easy target."

"She's right," Darius said.

Orion looked between them, frustrated. "Then what?"

"We stay the course." Aria took each of their hands. "I compete. I win. And while I'm doing that, you find out what Knox is really planning. We've got Blake watching him. We've got Cade watching the perimeter. We've got Seraphina—"

"We haven't talked to Seraphina," Darius interrupted. "Not about this."

"Then it's time we did. She knows more about this curse than anyone. If there's a way to break it without me dying, she'll know."

The twins exchanged a look. That silent communication again. Two men who'd shared a womb, a crown, and now a mate.

"Agreed," Darius said. "I'll arrange a meeting with Seraphina. Discreetly."

Orion squeezed Aria's hand. "And in the meantime?"

"In the meantime," she said, "we keep our eyes open and our mouths shut."

He kissed her knuckles. "I hate this."

"I know."

"I want to rip Knox apart."

"I know that too."

"And I want to tell the whole world that you're ours."

Her heart clenched. "Soon. I hope."

Darius moved closer. His hand found the back of her neck, cool and grounding. "Not hope. Plan. We plan, and then we execute."

Aria leaned into his touch. "You make everything sound like a military operation."

"Everything worth doing is."

Orion rolled his eyes but smiled. He pulled Aria closer and pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"For the record," he said, "I think the military approach is boring. I prefer the 'punch Knox in the face and ask questions later' method."

"Which is exactly why you're not handling Knox," Darius said.

"Fine. But when this is over and the kid gloves come off, his face is mine."

"Noted."

They stayed together until the early hours. Talking. Planning. And sometimes not talking at all—just lying together, feeling the bond hum between them like a song only they could hear.

When the first light of dawn crept through the window, Orion was the last to leave. He stood at the hidden passage, looking back at her.

"Aria."

"Yeah?"

"Whatever happens. Whatever Knox does, whatever the curse throws at us. I want you to know that finding you was the best thing that ever happened to me. To both of us."

She smiled, even though her eyes were burning. "Go, before someone sees you."

He went. The panel closed. And Aria was alone with the sunrise and the weight of everything she carried.

She sat on the edge of the bed and let the silence settle around her. The room still smelled like them. Orion's warmth lingered in the sheets. The indent of Darius's body still pressed into the pillow beside hers.

Two men. Two kings. Two mates who would tear the world apart for her.

And she might have to let the world tear her apart for them.

She shook her head. No. Darius was right. There was always another way. Morgana was powerful, but she was human. Humans made mistakes. And mistakes meant loopholes.

She walked to the mirror and looked at herself. The bruise from her father was gone. In its place were other marks—Orion's warmth on her skin, Darius's steadiness in her spine, and something else.

Something glowing behind her eyes. Faint. Silver. Barely there.

She leaned closer, her breath fogging the glass. The glow pulsed once, twice, like a second heartbeat behind her irises.

She blinked, and it was gone.

But she'd seen it. And she knew what it meant.

The First Luna's power was waking up. Not slowly, not gently.

It was waking up hungry.