LOGINI sank down onto the bed, my tears falling freely. The room was cold, despite the fire crackling in the hearth. Or maybe the cold was coming from inside me, from the hollow ache that had taken up residence in my chest since Lucian had left. I wrapped my arms around myself, trying to summon warmth that wouldn't come. Tatiana was dead. The words echoed in my mind, a cruel refrain that I couldn't escape. My only friend, the woman who had been more family to me than anyone else in this world, was gone. Murdered by Thorne because of me. Because she had tried to help me escape. Because she had loved me. I pressed my palms against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that wouldn't stop flowing. But they kept coming, hot and relentless, soaking my hands, my cheeks, the thin fabric of my dress. I should have been used to this by now. Loss was a constant companion in this world, an old friend that visited too often. I had lost my parents, my home, my freedom. I had lost friends before, had
The next morning, I woke in his arms. For a long moment, I simply lay there, basking in the warmth of his body wrapped around mine. His chest was pressed against my back, his arm draped possessively over my waist, his breath warm against my neck. I had never felt so safe, so protected, so... cherished. I turned in his arms, careful not to wake him, and studied his face in the soft morning light. In sleep, the harsh lines of his features softened, making him look younger, almost vulnerable. His dark lashes fanned against his cheeks, his full lips slightly parted. He was beautiful, this monster who had somehow become my everything. "Staring is rude," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep, his eyes still closed. I smiled, a genuine smile that felt strange on my face. "I wasn't staring. I was... appreciating." His eyes opened, those crimson depths meeting mine with an intensity that made my breath catch. "Appreciating what, exactly?" "Everything," I whispered. "You. Us. This momen
The days that followed were unlike anything I had ever experienced.Lucian—I had to remind myself to call him that, to shed the fear that came with his fearsome title—was attentive in ways I never expected. He ensured I had proper meals, warm clothes, a comfortable place to sleep. He didn't demand my time, but he sought it out, finding excuses to have me near him.It was confusing. Disorienting. Everything I had been taught about Lycans, about him, told me this was a trick. A manipulation designed to lower my defenses so he could strike when I least expected it.But he never struck.Instead, he talked. He told me about his childhood, about a world before the invasion that had been filled with beauty and wonder. He told me about his mother, a gentle woman who had been killed when he was barely more than a child. He told me about the rage that had consumed him, the darkness that had taken root in his soul."I was fifteen when she died," he said one evening, his voice flat and distant. "
Three days passed.Three days of watching, learning, and surviving. Three days of walking on eggshells, of trying to anticipate his moods, of learning the subtle cues that told me whether I was safe or in danger.Three days of feeling that strange pull toward him growing stronger with every passing moment.He had kept his word. He hadn't demanded anything from me, hadn't tried to touch me or force me into submission. He had simply... observed. Like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve, a mystery he was determined to unravel.And I couldn't stop thinking about him.It was madness. Pure, utter madness. He was a monster, a creature who had helped destroy my world. He had killed countless humans, had presided over a system of oppression that had reduced my people to slaves and playthings. He was everything I should hate, everything I should fear.And yet, when he looked at me with those crimson eyes, I felt something shift inside me. Something that terrified me more than any threat he co
I didn't sleep that night.Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face—those crimson eyes burning into my soul, that cruel smile playing at the corners of his lips. I heard his voice echoing in my mind, low and silken, promising darkness and pain. I felt his touch on my skin, the way his fingers had traced my jawline like he was memorizing every curve of my face.I lay on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling, my body rigid with tension. The room was cold, colder than any place I had ever been, and the thin blanket provided little warmth. But I didn't dare ask for more. I didn't dare do anything that might draw his attention.The hours crawled by like centuries. I could hear the distant sounds of the palace settling around me, the creak of old wood, the whisper of wind through ancient stones. Occasionally, I heard footsteps in the corridor outside my door, heavy and deliberate, and my heart would seize in my chest as I waited for them to stop.But they never did. They always passed b
They called him Diabolus Bestia.The name echoed through the palace halls like a curse, whispered with trembling voices and accompanied by trembling hands. It was the name of a nightmare, a monster so fearsome that even the other Lycans crossed themselves at the mere mention of it. And now, I was being led to his private chambers, forced to serve the creature that haunted the dreams of everyone in the kingdom.The guards who escorted me through the endless corridors of the palace were silent, their faces grim and impassive. They were Lycans, massive beasts of men with golden eyes and supernatural strength, but even they seemed nervous as we approached the massive doors that led to his wing of the palace."Remember your place, human," one of them growled, his hand gripping my shoulder with enough force to leave bruises. "You are here to serve. You are not to speak unless spoken to. You are not to look him in the eye. Do you understand?"I nodded, my throat too tight to form words. My h







