CHAPTER 3

Rhea's POV

The air in the Great Hall turned to ice, and the heavy thud of the Council's silver-tipped staffs against the marble sounded like a countdown to something terrible. I stared at the mark on my shoulder, the ink pulsing with a dull violet light that made my skin crawl, and I didn't feel connected to Killian or bonded or any of the things the stories said about mates. I felt branded like an animal waiting for slaughter.

"The Lunar Heir," a voice boomed from the entrance.

Lord Varick stepped into the light, and he was ancient, his skin like parchment stretched too thin over bone and his eyes milky with age, but he carried himself like violence incarnate. Behind him stood six Enforcers with their hands resting on silver blades that caught the candlelight and threw it back in harsh glints.

"Killian," Varick said, his gaze settling on the Alpha like a judge delivering a sentence. "You were tasked with securing the debt, not harboring a threat to our entire species, so step away from the girl."

Killian's hand was still wrapped around my waist, and his skin was burning hot, his muscles coiled tight like he was about to spring. I looked up at him and searched for some spark of the man who had kissed me minutes ago, some sign that he wouldn't just hand me over.

"The girl is mine," Killian said, his voice dropping to a dangerous snarl. "The debt is internal, and the Council has no jurisdiction in Blackwood Manor."

"She is the catalyst for the Purge!" Varick's voice cracked like a whip. "If she lives to see the moon reach its zenith, the Alpha lines will wither and die, so we didn't come to negotiate; we came to cleanse."

I looked past Varick to where Rodger was standing by the fireplace, swirling his drink with a strange, detached smile on his face, like he was watching a play instead of my execution.

"Rodger, help me," I whispered, hating how desperate I sounded.

Rodger looked at me, and his violet eyes were dancing with something cruel and bright. "Help you, Rhea darling, I'm the one who called them."

The silence that followed was so complete I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears. Killian went rigid against me, and his head snapped toward his brother with an expression I'd never seen before, something between rage and disbelief.

"What did you do?"

"I'm a realist, Killian." Rodger set his glass on the mantle with a deliberate clink. "You're already obsessed with her, look at you, you're ready to go to war for a human-born girl who doesn't even know how to shift. If she stays, you'll ruin the Pack; if she dies, I become the Alpha of Blackwood, so it's simple math, really."

"You traitorous bastard," Malachi growled and stepped toward Rodger, but the Enforcers drew their blades in one smooth motion, and the sound of metal on metal filled the hall.

"Stop!" The scream tore from my throat before I could think.

The silver collar around my neck began to hum in response to the proximity of all those weapons, the metal vibrating and shrinking like it was trying to crush my windpipe. I gasped for air and clutched at the cold metal, trying to pry it away from my skin, but it wouldn't budge.

"Killian," I choked out, my vision starting to blur at the edges.

Killian looked at me and then at the Council and then back at his brother, and I saw the conflict play out across his face in real time. He was a ruthless Alpha who had spent his whole life putting the Pack first, and I was just the girl who'd shown up with a mark he didn't ask for.

"She's just a girl," Killian said, and his voice was suddenly empty of everything.

"She is a death sentence," Varick countered. "Give her to us, and we will leave the Blackwood line intact; keep her, and we burn this estate to the ground with all of you inside it."

Killian's grip on my waist loosened, and he stepped back, his eyes fading from gold to cold, heartless grey. The distance between us felt like a chasm opening up, swallowing everything that had happened in the last hour.

"Killian?" My voice came out tiny and broken.

"You were right, Rhea." He still wouldn't look at me. "I do hate you, I hate that you make me weak, I hate that I can't stop thinking about you even when I know I should just let them end this."

He turned to Varick and his face was stone, carved and emotionless. "Take her, but do it outside because I don't want her blood staining my floors."

The betrayal hit harder than any blade could have. I stumbled back and my eyes went wide as the Enforcers closed in from both sides, and Rodger was laughing softly like this was the best entertainment he'd had in years. Even Malachi had turned away to stare out the window at the rising moon, his broad shoulders tense but offering no help.

"No," I breathed, backing toward the heavy drapes that covered the North window. "You can't do this, you're my family!"

"We were never your family," Rodger said, stepping close enough to blow me a kiss. "You were just the help that stayed too long."

The Enforcers grabbed my arms, and their touch was like ice burning through the thin silk of my dress. I fought, kicking and screaming and trying to wrench free, but they were preternaturally strong, and they dragged me toward the center of the room where they forced me to my knees before Lord Varick. The marble was cold and hard beneath me, and I could feel every eye in the room watching, waiting for this to be over.

Varick unsheathed a long, jagged silver dagger that looked like it had been used for this exact purpose many times before. "By the law of the moon, the blight is removed."

He raised the blade high, and I closed my eyes, waiting for the cold steel to find my heart, waiting for it to be over so I wouldn't have to feel this crushing weight of abandonment anymore.

"Wait," a voice commanded, and it wasn't Killian or Rodger or anyone I recognized.

It was a voice that sounded like it came from the earth itself, deep and ancient and terrifying in a way that made the hair on my arms stand up.

The doors to the Great Hall didn't just open; they disintegrated into splinters and dust, and a shadow stepped through the debris. He was taller than Killian and more regal than Varick, dressed in black that seemed to swallow the light around him.

"The girl doesn't belong to the Blackwoods," the stranger said, his voice carrying easily through the massive hall. "And she certainly doesn't belong to the Council."

Killian stepped forward with his fangs bared. "Who the hell are you?"

The stranger smiled, and his teeth were far too sharp to be human or Lycan or anything I'd ever seen before. He looked at me, and for the first time since the mark appeared, it didn't burn or ache, it glowed with a blinding white light that made everyone in the room take a step back.

"I am the reason her mother fled the Alps twenty years ago," the stranger said, his gaze never leaving mine. "I am the King of the Forsaken, and I've come to claim my daughter."

The words didn't make sense at first; they just hung in the air while my brain tried to process what he was saying. My father wasn't the weak human man from the old photographs, the one who supposedly died when I was a baby; he was this creature standing in front of me that made even the Council look nervous.

The stranger reached out one pale hand, and the silver collar around my neck shattered like glass, the pieces falling away and leaving my throat feeling raw but free.

"Rhea," he said, and hearing him use my name felt wrong and right at the same time. "The choice is yours, you can stay here and let these children play at being powerful while they decide how to kill you, or you can come with me, and I'll show you why they should have stayed in their dens."

I looked at Killian, and he was staring at me with his face pale and his hand reaching out like he wanted to grab me back, like he was realizing too late what he'd just done.

"Don't go," Killian whispered, his voice thick with something desperate and possessive. "If you leave with him, Rhea, I will hunt you to the ends of the earth."

"You already gave me away, Killian," I said, and my voice came out cold and hard like ice. "You chose the Pack over me, so you don't get to make demands now."

I took the stranger's hand, and his skin was cool and dry, nothing like Killian's burning heat. As soon as our fingers touched, the house began to shake, and I could hear things falling and breaking in other rooms.

"But you're right about one thing," I said, looking back at the three brothers who had broken whatever stupid, naive part of me had wanted to believe they might protect me. "I'm not your sister anymore, and when I come back, I'm not going to be your bride either."

I leaned in close enough to press a ghost of a kiss against Killian's shocked lips, barely there but enough to taste the desperation and regret on him. "I'm going to be your Queen, and I'll start by burning this house to the ground."

The stranger pulled me into the shadows that were gathering around him like living things, and the world went black as everything I knew disappeared behind me.