Mama

Chapter Six

Kieran was on Thorne in a blink.

No one in the Great Hall even saw him cross the stone floor before his fingers locked tightly around Thorne’s throat. His sharp claws ripped right through the thick, decorated fabric of Thorne's collar, tearing the skin and digging deep into the muscle beneath. With a terrifying show of brute strength, Kieran lifted the massive Alpha a full inch off the floor.

"Say that again," Kieran whispered. The sound didn't come from his throat; it scraped through the silent room like a rusted blade dragged over ice. "Suggest you will touch my wife. I dare you ."

Thorne’s hands clawed frantically at Kieran’s wrists. His thick fingernails dug into Kieran's arms, but Kieran didn't even flinch. Thorne’s face shifted from a dark red to a bruised, suffocating purple. His heavy boots kicked uselessly in the empty air, scraping against the stone steps. For a terrifying heartbeat, it looked like Kieran was going to snap his neck. The veins in Kieran’s hand bulged, his knuckles turning white as he squeezed, preparing to crush the older Alpha's windpipe into dust.

"Why are you making a scene, Kieran?" Vira's voice sliced into the heavy silence. She sounded sharp and angry, though her fingers twitched nervously over the hilt of her dagger.

Kieran’s pitch-black gaze slowly flicked from Thorne toward me. The violent darkness in his eyes began to fade, allowing the bright, ancient gold to bleed back into his irises. He released his grip all at once, dropping Thorne like a heavy sack of rocks.

The massive Alpha crashed to his knees on the stone steps, gagging and coughing violently. He clutched his bruised throat, his shoulders shaking as he sucked in heavy breaths of air. He spat a string of bloody saliva onto the clean floor.

"Then she is my Luna and it stands," Kieran said. He turned away from the choking man, calmly smoothing down the wrinkled sleeves of his black shirt as if he hadn't just tried to murder someone in public. "She is mine. Marked or unmarked. Anyone who disagrees should challenge me now ."

He scanned the entire room, his golden gaze pausing on every elder, every guard, and every council member. Silence met him. The fire pits popped, sending a spark into the air, but not a single soul moved a muscle. Hands remained frozen near weapon hilts. Everyone held their breath.

"Good."

Kieran turned his back on five Alphas as if they were nothing more than harmless pups and walked back to the dais. He stopped precisely beside me. He didn't touch me, but he stood close enough that the heat of his skin washed over my shivering, velvet-clad body. The copper smell of his fresh anger filled my nose

"The council disagrees, Nightbane," Kellan muttered from the back of the hall. His voice trembled slightly, though he tried to stand up straight. "You need to mark her, or Thorne will challenge for her the next time we come. You cannot fight all of us."

Kellan turned, his silver hair catching the light, and led the way out. Without another word, the elders and council members walked out through the massive oak doors, their heavy cloaks sweeping the floor as they disappeared into the dark night.

Left completely alone in the huge, echoing hall, the crackle of the wood fire was the only sound between us. Kieran spoke first, his eyes fixed on the empty doorway. "You didn't speak."

"Yeah. I vowed not to," I rasped, my throat tight as I kept my eyes locked straight ahead.

"Follow me."

He didn't check to see if I was behind him. He turned on his heel and strode past the main hall, his heavy boots echoing off the walls. I hurried to keep up, forcing my legs to move evenly despite the dull ache in my joints. We passed the long rows of the warrior barracks, where low whispers died out the moment Kieran’s shadow fell across the doorways, and went down a steep, narrow set of stone steps.

We plunged into the freezing, dark depths of the castle. The dungeons. The air down here changed instantly, thick with the stench of wet stone, rot, and old fear. The torches were spaced far apart, leaving massive pockets of total blackness between them.

Most of the heavy iron cells were empty, their doors hanging open like yawning mouths. Kieran stopped suddenly at a cell near the very end of the hallway. It was secured with heavy, cross-hatched iron bars and had a narrow window at eye level.

"Caleb," Kieran called into the dark square of the cell.

A soft, hesitant shuffling sound came from the shadows inside. Straw rustled. Then, a pale face appeared at the iron bars, lit by the faint orange glow of a distant torch. He looked so much younger, his cheeks sunken and thin. A dark purple bruise looked like rotten fruit under his left eye, and a rough cut ran along his jawline, covered in dried blood.

My breath caught in my throat. My little brother.

"Lyra? Lyra, is that you?" Caleb’s voice was a panicked whisper, his cracked lips trembling.

"Caleb. I'm here." My voice broke completely on his name. The empty numbness I had forced into my chest shattered instantly.

"I'm okay," he said, his hands gripping the iron bars so tightly his knuckles turned white. He stared at me, his frantic eyes moving down my body. "I'm okay. You seem... God, that dress. Did he—"

"It's nothing," I lied, though the velvet of the blue dress felt like heavy iron weights against my skin. I stepped closer, pressing my right palm flat against the cold, sweating iron bars.

Caleb immediately placed his palm against mine on his side of the metal. 

We couldn't actually touch—the thick iron bar sat like an unyielding wall between our skin—but just being close, feeling the warmth of his shadow, made my chest ache so badly I could barely breathe.

"Five minutes," Kieran reminded us from the dark shadows behind me, his voice sharp and cold.

"Lyra, you have to get out," Caleb whispered, leaning his forehead against the cold metal. His wide eyes were swimming with terror. "He is a monster. He killed Father."

"I know, and I'm working on that," I whispered back, my eyes scanning the dark corners behind him. "Are you alone? Caleb, where is Mama?"

Caleb’s face went entirely blank. His hand against the iron trembled, his fingers sliding down the cold metal. He let out a brittle, hollow laugh that turned into a dry cough. "I'm breathing. That's all that matters. There are others from our pack in the cells on the east side. Maybe ten of our warriors left. And about Mama... She died, Lyra. After the warriors dragged you away... Mama took a sword to her own neck. Right in front of me ."

The air completely left my lungs. The world tilted.

"Time's up," Kieran said, stepping forward from the darkness.

"Wait—no!" I screamed, my composure shattering into a thousand pieces.

Kieran reached out, his massive hands grabbing my upper arms with an iron grip to pull me away from the door. As I was yanked back, Caleb’s hand shot through the iron bars in a desperate lunge, his fingers clawing forward and catching the fabric of my dress at my wrists to hold onto me.

"No touching," Kieran growled, his grip tightening on my arms.

But Caleb’s thumb had already brushed directly over the thick, padded bandages hidden beneath my long velvet sleeves. He felt the bulky dressing and the sticky moisture of the medicine beneath. He realized instantly what those hidden wounds meant. Caleb's eyes went wide, his deep sorrow turning into pure, fiery fury.

"He touched you, Lyra! He hurt your wrists! You monster!" Caleb roared, throwing his entire body weight against the cell door so hard the iron rattled in its stone frame.

"Let's go ."

Kieran hauled me backward, completely breaking Caleb’s grip. He turned me around and forced me to walk fast, his hand firmly planted between my shoulder blades. He pushed me up the stone stairs as if he couldn't stand to breathe the stale air near that cell for another second. Caleb's furious screams followed us, echoing up the stairwell until the heavy wooden door at the top slammed shut, cutting the sound off entirely.

We didn't exchange a single word as we traversed the upper levels, moving deep into a deserted, narrow side corridor lined with heavy drapes.

Kieran stopped abruptly. He wheeled around to face me, his chest heaving slightly under his black tunic. "Satisfied?"

"No," I choked out, my teeth chattering as the image of my brother's bruised face flashed behind my eyelids. My mind was spinning, fracturing around the horrific detail Caleb had dropped. "What did Caleb mean? Where is my mother, Kieran? Tell me where her body is!"

Kieran didn't flinch. Instead, a cruel, mocking amusement danced in the dark gold depths of his eyes. He leaned down, bringing his face inches from mine, his hot breath fanning against my freezing skin.

"You really are pathetic, aren't you? Still looking for a savior," he whispered, each word dripping with deliberate venom. "Your mother is rotting in the dirt, Lyra. The very second my warriors dragged you out of that palace, she proved exactly what your cowardly bloodline is made of. She took a blade to her own throat. Slit it right in front of your brother because she couldn't face the consequences."

The world violently tilted beneath my boots. A suffocating, crushing weight crashed into my chest, stealing every drop of air from my lungs. My knees buckled, but Kieran’s hand shot out, catching my shoulder to keep me upright. "No. No, please, no... she wouldn't."

"Don't look at me with those weeping, useless eyes," Kieran sneered. He shifted his grip, his thick fingers snatching my jaw and digging into my skin with brutal force. He pinned my head in place against the stone wall, forcing me to stare directly into his unyielding Alpha mask.

"Your family is a disease," he hissed, his face so close I could see the tiny flecks of black in his golden eyes. "Your father died a traitor, your brother is a broken dog in a cage, and your mother was a coward who chose a bloody floor over fighting for you. She abandoned you, Princess. She looked at your life and decided it wasn't worth sticking around for."

A hot, heavy tear spilled over my lower eyelid, tracking down my cheek and scalding his thumb. Kieran hissed in immediate disgust, flinging my face away from him as if the mere touch of my grief contaminated his skin. He reached into his pocket, calmly pulling out a silk handkerchief to wipe his wet fingers.

"The council was right about one thing," he said, stepping right back into my personal space before I could even draw a ragged breath.

 "Unmarked means unprotected, and Thorne was not posturing back there. He would take you the moment my back was turned. So you don't get to leave my sight until I say so. I have to keep you alive and intact for just five moons, and then everything will come together exactly as I planned."

"Huh?" The broken, hollow word slipped out of my trembling lips.

"What, 'huh'?" Kieran mocked, his chest rising and falling heavily as he loomed over me, casting a long shadow across the narrow hallway. "The council is furious, and I don't blame them. You are a traitor's daughter. By all rights, you should have been butchered right alongside your parents in the courtyard. But thank your lucky stars that I found a specific use for your miserable existence. And when I'm done with whatever that is... I will be the one to end you personally. I’ll make sure you join them in the dirt."

He snapped his mouth shut, the cold, unreadable Alpha's mask locking back over his features as he shoved the handkerchief away.

"Your quarters are next to mine," he commanded, his voice dropping back into a flat, gravelly drone that cut worse than his anger. "I'm giving you a room only because I know exactly what the council is capable of doing to an unmarked female, and I won't have my property damaged before its time. Guards will be posted at your door around the clock. Do not ever go near those cells again."

He turned toward the spiral stairs, his heavy boots clicking against the stone as he walked away, leaving me shivering alone in the dark corridor. His final words floated back through the shadows, sharp as shattered glass.

"You will receive the treatment of a Luna in public. But don't you dare delude yourself into thinking you are anything more than a ghost waiting for execution."