LOGINElara's POVI woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains.For a moment, I did not know where I was. The ceiling was different. The walls were different. The smell of smoke and old stone was unfamiliar. Then the memories of the previous day came flooding back. The battle. The infirmary. The kiss.I pressed my fingers to my lips and smiled.I had not slept like this in a long time. I could tell. My body felt rested, my mind clear, the exhaustion that had clung to me for days finally loosening its grip. I stretched beneath the blankets, feeling the ache in my muscles, the pull of healing wounds that were not my own.A soft knock at the door."Come in," I said.A young maid entered, carrying a tray. She set it on the table by the window—bread, cheese, a bowl of porridge, a pot of tea—and hurried out without a word. I ate slowly, savoring each bite. The food was simple but good. Warm. Comforting.When I finished, I washed my face in the basin, braided my hair, and walked down to the i
Lucian's POVI walked her to her door and did not want to let her go.The corridor was quiet. The torches had burned low, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Elara stood in the doorway, her white hair tangled, her silver eyes heavy with exhaustion. She looked small. Fragile. Nothing like the woman who had walked out of the gates and turned the tide of battle.But she was alive. She was here. And for that, I was grateful."Rest," I said.She nodded. Did not move.I hesitated. Every part of me wanted to step inside, to pull her into my arms, to never let her go again. But she needed sleep. Needed time. Needed to heal.I stepped forward anyway.I pulled her into my arms and held her.Her body was warm against mine, softer than I remembered. Her arms came up around my back, tentative at first, then firm. Her face pressed into my chest. Her breath was warm through the fabric of my shirt.I closed my eyes and breathed her in. Not the wild honey and lightning of her scent—that was s
Elara's POVThe battle ended faster than I expected.One moment we were surrounded, the enemy pressing in from all sides, their swords raised, their faces twisted with rage and desperation. The next, they were breaking. Running. Throwing down their weapons and begging for mercy.Darius's army had been overthrown.I stood in the middle of the chaos, my hands still glowing, my chest heaving. Blood soaked the hem of my gown. Mud caked my boots. My hair had come loose from its braid and hung around my face in tangled white strands.But I was alive. We were alive.I bent down and placed my hands on the nearest wounded soldier. A young man, barely older than a boy, with a deep gash across his chest. His eyes were glassy with pain. His breathing was shallow.The light rose from my palms, warm and gentle. I did not heal him completely—I did not have the strength for that—but I did enough. The bleeding slowed. The edges of the wound pulled together. His wolf would do the rest."Thank you, my l
Lucian's POVThe battle was a slaughter.We were holding, barely. My warriors fought with the desperation of men who knew what waited for them if they fell. Women too. Even some of the older children who had gotten their wolves had taken up swords, defending the walls their fathers had built.But it was not enough.Darius had numbers. Siege weapons. Witches who threw fire from the edges of the battlefield. Every time we pushed them back, they surged forward again. Every time we killed one, two more took his place.I cut down three soldiers in quick succession. The first fell with my sword through his chest. The second lost his head. The third stumbled back, tripping over the body of his comrade, and I slit his throat with my claws before he could scream.Blood sprayed across my face. Hot. Thick.I did not wipe it away.Darius stood at the back of his army, surrounded by his elite guard. His silver eyes were fixed on me. On the walls. On the palace beyond.He was smiling.I wanted to k
Elara's POVThe voices pulled me out of the darkness.They were faint at first, like echoes from the bottom of a deep well. Then louder. Closer. One of them was old and tired, the other younger, sharper. They were arguing about something. Herbs. Potions. Whether to try another ritual."Her pulse is weakening," the old one said."No, it is stronger. Feel it. She is fighting."I opened my eyes.The ceiling above me was made of dark wood, crisscrossed with beams. A fire crackled somewhere to my left. The room smelled of smoke and herbs and something metallic. Blood.I turned my head.Two men in the room. The older one was bent over my wrist, his fingers pressed to my pulse. His face was lined with wrinkles, his eyes tired but kind. The younger one stood at the window, his back to me, staring out at something I could not see.The older man glanced down at my face.His eyes widened. His mouth fell open."You are awake!"The younger man spun around. He crossed the room in three quick stride
Elara's POVI sat on the glowing floor for a long time.My back was pressed against the door I had just closed, the wood cold against my spine. My eyes were probably red from all the weeping, my chest felt like a large rock was dropped in it. My mother's screams still echoed in my ears, and every time I closed my eyes, I saw the fire.I should have been stronger. Should have stood up. Should have walked to the next door and kept going.But I could not move.The hallway of light stretched before me, endless and indifferent. Doors lined the walls, some open, some closed, some locked. Each one held a piece of my past. Each one demanded something from me. I had given so much already. My tears. My grief. The last shreds of the numbness that had protected me."Elara."I lifted my head.The voice came from nowhere and everywhere. Not from behind a door. Not from a memory. From outside. From the world beyond this strange hallway of light."Elara, you have to fight this."It was old. Tired. De
Elara’s POVI felt hurt and bad that he could get angry like that even after our morning encounter. The teasing, the laughter, the way he had stayed with me through the nightmare — I thought things had changed between us. But the moment I stepped into that room, his anger returned full force, sharp
Lucian’s POVI burst through the palace gates with the unconscious girl cradled against my chest. The full moon still hung high, bathing everything in cold silver light. My bare feet slapped against the stone courtyard. Blood from the rogues still coated my skin and matted my hair.The two guards a
Lucian’s POVI burst into Elara’s chambers without knocking, the door banging against the wall hard enough to rattle the hinges.The royal physician was already there, bent over the bed, pressing a cool cloth to her forehead. Elara lay under the covers, cheeks flushed, skin glistening with sweat. S
Elara’s POVThe cage bars dug into my back as I pressed myself against them. The metal was cold and rough, smelling of rust and something sour that made my stomach turn. I wrapped my arms around my knees and tried to breathe slow. My heart hammered so loud I could hear it in my ears.This was worse







