LOGINLucian's POVShe walked out of the gates and I could not let her go."Lucian, she could hurt you." Kylan's voice followed me, sharp with warning. "She is not the same. She tried to kill you yesterday."I was not listening anymore.My feet carried me across the courtyard, through the gates, into the fog. The cold air bit at my skin. The dew soaked through my boots. I did not care. She was out there, walking away from me, and if I let her disappear into the mist, I might never see her again."Elara!"She did not stop, intsead she increased her pace.The fog parted around me, thick and wet, clinging to my clothes. I followed the faint glow of her white hair, the only light in the grey. She moved quickly, her boots sure on the uneven ground, but I was faster."Elara, please."She stopped.I stopped a few feet behind her, my chest heaving, my heart pounding. She did not turn around. Her white hair hung down her back, damp with fog. Her hands were at her sides, no longer glowing."Go back,"
Elara's POVThe forest swallowed me the moment I passed through the gates.Fog clung to the trees, thick and damp, muffling every sound. My boots sank into the wet earth. My hands still glowed faintly, casting pale light on the moss-covered roots at my feet.I walked without direction. Away from the Lycan kingdom. Away from his gold eyes and his trembling hands and the way he had said my name like it broke something inside him.You are my mate. My fated mate.The words echoed in my skull, bouncing off walls I did not know existed.Lies. They had to be lies. Darius had told me the truth. The Lycan King was a monster. A tyrant. The murderer of my people.Then why had I hugged him back? Why had my arms wrapped around him like they belonged there? Why had my body relaxed against his chest like it had finally come home? Why had being in his arms felt right?I stopped walking.The fog was thicker here. I could barely see three feet ahead. The trees loomed above me, dark and silent. Somewher
Elara's POVThe voice came the first time just before dawn.I was not fully asleep, not fully awake. Floating somewhere in between, where dreams blur into thoughts and thoughts blur into something else. Then I heard it.Elara.My eyes opened. The tent was dark. The lantern had burned out hours ago. I lay still, listening. Nothing. Just the distant sounds of the camp settling into the quiet hours before morning.I must have imagined it.I closed my eyes.Elara.I sat up. The voice was clearer now. Closer. It was not Darius's voice. Not any voice I recognized. It was deep, rough, urgent. And it was saying my name like the word itself was a prayer.I looked around the tent. Empty. Just my cot, my blankets, my boots by the flap."Who is there?" I whispered.No answer.I lay back down. My heart was pounding. My skin was prickling. The voice had sounded so real. So close. Like someone was standing right beside me, speaking into my ear.Elara. It is Lucian. I know you do not remember me. I k
Lucian's POVThe battle played on a loop in my mind.I sat in the great hall, staring at nothing, seeing everything. Elara's white hair blazing in the sunlight. Her hands raised, light exploding from her palms. Our soldiers falling. Dying. Their bodies scattered across the field like broken dolls.She had killed them.Fifty of my best warriors. The ones Dana had taken to ambush from behind, to rescue her. Elara had cut them down without hesitation. Without recognition. Without mercy.Dana had barely escaped with her life."What have they done to her?" I had asked, my voice hollow, as Kylan pulled me from the field."The potion," Gwen had said. "It must be the potion. The exiled witches brew something called the Draught of Forgotten Years. It erases memories. Makes the drinker a blank slate.""Can it be reversed?""I do not know. I have never encountered it before."I had not heard the rest of what he said. The words had blurred into noise, meaningless and distant. Kylan had grabbed my
Elara's POVWe withdrew to the far east of the kingdom as the sun dipped below the horizon.The camp was chaos. Tents went up in a hurry. The wounded were laid out on blankets, their cries filling the air. Warriors moved between them, pressing cloths to wounds, stitching gashes, doing what they could with no magic to help them. The wounds were not healing quickly due to the use of silver blades.I should have been helping. I was a healer. The witches had taught me that. My hands could close wounds and mend broken bones and pull the dying back from the edge of death.But I could not move.I stood at the edge of the camp, my hands still glowing faintly, staring at the direction the Lycan army had retreated. The beast had looked at me with those gold eyes. He had not fought back. Had not raised his sword. He had looked at me like I had done something unforgivable.Like I had betrayed him.But I did not know him. I had never seen him before. Darius had told me everything I needed to know.
Elara's POVThe morning of the battle, I woke to three women standing at the foot of my bed.I did not hear them enter. Did not feel them approach. One moment I was alone, staring at the ceiling, preparing myself for what was to come. The next, they were there. Three figures in silver-grey robes, their faces pale, their eyes ancient. They looked like they had stepped out of a dream. Or a nightmare.The oldest one spoke first. Her voice was dry, crackling like old parchment. "You are ready, child."I sat up, clutching the blanket to my chest. "Who are you?""We are your ancestors," the second one said. She was younger than the first, but her eyes were just as old. "We have watched over you since the day you were born.""My ancestors." I looked at their faces, searching for something familiar. Nothing. "Darius told me my people were destroyed. That I am the last.""Darius speaks truth. But not all truth." The youngest one stepped forward. Her voice was softer, gentler. "He is your desti
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







