ANMELDENANWEN'S POVThis slow, deliberate torture demanded more of me than any brutal, pounding release ever had.It required so much of my effort—building tension, chasing pleasure, climbing toward a peak that seemed to move higher with every passing hour.Yet the reward, when it finally came, proved just as devastating, leaving me spent and gasping, my vision swimming at the edges until darkness took me under.This was the third time I had woken up from exhaustion-induced sleep. Rhydan was still moving inside me, every slow thrust of his hips designed to drive me mad.Fingers brushed my forehead, wiping away the sweat beading there. I turned to find Fenric's silver-grey eyes gazing down at me, still kneeling on the floor beside the chaise."There she is," he greeted.Behind him, Brammon stood holding a glass of water. He crouched down and offered it to me. "Here."Fenric slid a hand behind my head, lifting me as I drank."Thank you," I whispered once I'd finished.My gaze drifted toward Rhy
ANWEN'S POVThe other Scions did not waste a second.As soon as the High King gave the order to proceed, they were already moving. They swarmed the women with a hunger that made my blood turn cold.No hesitation. No pretense of gentleness.They mounted the breeders with the savagery of the beasts they were, determined to claim as many as they could before the night ended.Shortly after, the sickening sounds filled the room, echoing off the marble walls. Wet, rhythmic slapping of skin against skin. Moans that tore from throats raw with suffering rather than pleasure. Grunts of effort, of conquest. The atrium had become a cathedral of violation, and the acoustics carried every horrific note to where I lay on the velvet chaise.My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat. The room blurred as tears gathered, hot and heavy, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them. I couldn’t look away, yet I couldn’t bear to watch.“Anwen.” Fenric’s voice was low and steady.He was beside me in
ANWEN'S POVThe Scions in the hall erupted into cheers.Excitement swept through the atrium as though someone had just announced a grand victory. Maybe, for them, it was. After all, this was the highlight of the evening—the moment everyone had been waiting for.For me, and for all the breeders in this hall, it was the moment we had been trying not to imagine.Whatever haze the wine had left in me vanished instantly.This was it.I thought I had prepared myself enough for this. I thought I had accepted it.But now that I was actually sitting here, surrounded by hundreds of Scions waiting to get their hands on me, I wanted nothing more than to run.I pressed myself harder against Brammon, desperate for the anchor of his arms. His arms tightened around me immediately, instinctively drawing me closer against his chest.They were enormous and strong. When those arms wrapped around me, I could almost believe nothing in the world could reach me.But not now.Tonight, even his strength could
FENRIC'S POVThe table was quiet, save for the usual clinking of cutlery and the muted sounds of a dinner shared.I ate while continuing to feed Anwen between bites. Brammon and Rhydan did what they could as well—small gestures, quiet reassurances, the least we could offer her.Anwen obediently took everything I gave her, chewing and swallowing each mouthful without complaint, but I knew she was forcing it down. Her shoulders remained tense beneath Brammon’s arm, and every so often, I caught her fingers tightening around the fabric of his coat.Then I noticed her eyes. They were fixed on Brammon’s goblet.I ignored it at first. But whenever Brammon set the goblet down on the table, her gaze followed it. When he picked it up again, her eyes rose with it, tracking every movement until he brought the rim to his mouth and took a drink.Brammon noticed it too.He lowered the goblet and looked down at her. “What?”Anwen immediately shook her head. “Nothing.”Brammon narrowed his eyes at her
BRAMMON'S POVThe sight of the three of them was almost laughable.Gadreel, Vaelis, and the High King stood frozen before us, staring at Anwen as though this tiny human had somehow become the most dangerous creature in a room full of monsters.I would have laughed at the absurdity of it if the High King hadn't suddenly whispered a name.A name he himself had forbidden from being spoken.“Azara.”The word was so faint that I almost wondered if I had imagined it.It sounded less like something he intended to say and more like a thought that had slipped free before he realized he'd spoken aloud.Rhydan heard it too. So did Fenric. But we chose not to react.We exchanged a brief glance, a silent conversation passing between us in the space of a heartbeat.Pretend we hadn't heard.Fenric, naturally, decided the silence had lasted long enough.“That’s exactly how we reacted when we first laid eyes on her,” he said, his voice carrying easily through the hall.He stepped closer to Anwen, deli
RHYDAN'S POVThe High King’s palace was already being flooded with Scions by the time we approached.From above, I could see them arriving from every corner of the kingdom. Some stepped from elaborate carriages, while others walked through the palace gates in their human forms. A few arrived in their beast forms, drawing stares from those around them. Magic flashed across the grounds as others simply appeared, transported from distant territories by spells that left brief trails of light in the evening air.It was an impressive gathering.Which was precisely why I felt like making an impression of my own.The High King had pushed back against our refusal, making it clear that tonight was not a request. It was an order.He had reminded us exactly where we stood beneath his crown, and while we had agreed to attend, none of us had promised to make his evening pleasant.In fact, I could not promise that we would show restraint at all.I folded my wings slightly and began my descent.The S
ANWEN’S POVArlo was already moving around the room, grabbing things—my thick scarf, the small pouch of medicinal herbs for my fever and cough, an extra pair of socks. He stuffed them into a rough sack with hurried hands.“Where are we going?” I asked, pushing the blankets aside and climbing to my
ANWEN'S POVTwenty years later.Monsters rule the world now.They don’t hide in shadows or lurk beneath beds. They sit in councils. They wear crowns. They walk our roads in broad daylight as if the world belongs to them.Because it does.They call themselves the Scions—magic wielders, shifters, and
It hurt.A sharp, tearing brilliance bloomed beneath Azara’s skin as though her own light had turned against her.Radiants like her were not meant to bleed, nor to know agony such as this. Pain belonged to mortal flesh, to bone and blood and fragile breath. Not to beings wrought from pure illuminat
BRAMMON'S POVI heard him before I saw him.The crack of wings split the air above my labyrinth, sharp enough to shiver through the stone beneath my feet. A heartbeat later came the reckless dive, ending in a heavy thud on the balcony overhead.I already knew—he was in a foul mood.Either Galenor h







