LOGINAnd another chapter in!!! Tension is rising, rage is brimming and side enemies are forming… (Selene) The Prince feels insulted and Ava feels mistreated— the perfect combination for the wrong Combination. Lol. — oh, and there’s Revna. Don’t forget. See yA!
{Ava’s POV}The Palace courtyard was quieter than it had been in weeks.Not empty— never empty anymore, but settled, like a body learning how to breathe again after nearly drowning. Guards stood watch with less tension in their shoulders while Citizens passed through the outer gates without flinching.Healing, I had learned, did not announce itself.I stood near the eastern colonnade, listening to the sound of boots on stone and the low murmur of voices beyond the walls. The air felt different now— lighter, but not free. Grief still lingered like smoke trapped in fabric.Edna had left me moments earlier to oversee the reassignment of combat units. She’d taken to command like it had always belonged to her, even if she still rolled her eyes whenever someone called her Captain.I was alone.Or so I thought.I sensed him before I saw him.It wasn’t the bond of memory— those had dulled with time and pain, but the faint, familiar tug of recognition. The way your body remembers something you
{Ava’s POV}~ Some Days Later ~ The bells began at dawn.Not the sharp, celebratory chime used for victories or coronations— but the low, slow toll reserved for endings that mattered. Each strike rolled across the Palace grounds like a breath released too carefully, echoing through stone corridors, over battlements, down into streets still stained with the memory of war.They rang for Calita.I stood at the foot of the Palace steps, hands bare, shoulders unarmored, the morning air cold against my skin. I hadn’t worn my armor or any important clothing today. I hadn’t worn anything that marked me as Eclipse-born, or Warg, or future anything. Just black cloth and the weight of knowing exactly who we were about to lay to rest.They brought her out slowly.The casket was simple— dark wood, moon-carved, unadorned by sigils or rank. That had been my choice. Calita had never wanted attention. She had spent her life in the spaces behind others, in the pauses between danger and disaster, doing
{Ava’s POV}The Palace had learned a new kind of silence.Not the fearful hush that crept through corridors during the war, nor the brittle quiet that followed death and judgment— but something gentler. Heavier. A silence that held memory instead of dread.I stood on the eastern balcony just as dawn crept over the city, the horizon painted in soft gold and pale blue. The Palace city stretched below me— scarred, rebuilding, breathing again. Smoke no longer rose from broken towers. The bells were silent now, resting after days of mourning and victory and too many names carved into stone.For the first time since everything broke, the world wasn’t asking anything of me.I rested my hands on the cool stone railing, flexing my fingers slowly. The shadows beneath my skin were quiet— present, but calm. Not coiled. Not hungry. Just there, like a steady pulse beneath my ribs.I didn’t realize how much I’d needed that until now.Footsteps approached behind me.I didn’t turn as I knew who it was
{Ava’s POV}I stood at the edge of a tall Palace balcony as dawn lifted slowly over the city. The air smelled different now— less of ash and blood, more of damp stone and early morning smoke from hearths being lit for warmth instead of warning.People were gathering. Not summoned. Not ordered. They came quietly, as if afraid that too much noise might wake the dead.Families stood shoulder to shoulder. Warriors leaned on spears that were no longer raised. Children clutched hands too tightly, eyes wide, uncertain whether this calm was real or just another trick of fate. They were gathered for something and people were going to find out, but I stayed back. I didn’t go. Habit, maybe. Or instinct. For so long, my presence had meant disruption— fear, whispers, shadows tightening around me like accusation. Even now, the eclipse beneath my skin stirred faintly, not restless, just… present. A reminder of what I was.What I had become.“They’re here for you,” Edna said softly as she stopped b
{Ava’s POV}The chamber smelled like stone and finality.It wasn’t the Grand Hall. No. This place was older, deeper beneath the Palace, carved from an era when justice had been simpler and far crueler. No banners hung from the walls. No sigils. It was just bleak and streaked across its walls with torches that didn’t really bring much color. This was not a place for ceremony.It was a place for endings.Revna stood at the center of the floor, wrists bound behind her with etched silver restraints. It was her turn now. She stood with posture straight despite the chains and she wore no armor. Just dark clothing torn at the hem, stained with old blood and mud. Her hair had been pulled back, exposing her face fully— sharp, unrepentant, and untouched by fear.She looked smaller like this.Not diminished. Just contained.The council sat in a semicircle before her— elders, generals, judges of old bloodlines and newer scars. Some had fought in the courtyard. Others had lost kin to her rebelli
{Ava’s POV}The chamber smelled like fear.Not blood— most of that had been washed away from the Palace stones by now, but the sharper scent of dread that clung to skin and breath when people were made to wait without answers.They had been gathered beneath the eastern, in the Dungeons keep that was used to hold ragged criminals back in the day; where iron sconces lined the walls, their flames steady and low, casting long shadows that bent unnaturally across the floor. Standing before them, chains hung unused now, pushed back against the stone and mostly symbols than tools.There were thirty-seven of them.I counted without meaning to.Rebels; fighters who had followed Revna into war. Wolves who had raised blades against the Palace, against me. Every one of them stood— or knelt, in darkness, eyes clouded white or sealed shut, faces turned inward as if the world had already abandoned them.They did not speak.Some clutched each other’s sleeves. Some trembled silently. One man pressed







