Kaine’s pov.The war room was quiet, but the silence wasn’t peaceful. It buzzed with the energy of things left unsaid. The kind of silence that pressed against the skin like a storm waiting for the sky to break.I stood there for a long time after Oscar left, staring at the parchment map stretched across the table. Every peak and valley etched into it felt familiar, yet now they all seemed suspect. The lines blurred. The borders felt wrong. Nothing was safe, not anymore.I hadn’t told Celine I was leaving. Not yet. Not until I knew exactly what I was riding into.The last time I left without her knowing, she ended up in danger. This time, it was different—but no less risky. Tess had evaded us too long. Her trail had cooled and flared so many times that even our best trackers were starting to second-guess themselves. But the report Oscar brought today—this one held weight.A forgotten outpost in the eastern hills, abandoned for decades. Remote enough to vanish from memory, close enough
Celine’s pov. The villa was quieter without Kaine. Not in the way of missing his footsteps in the hall or his voice in the strategy room—it was quieter in the sense that my soul missed his presence. I could feel the hollow echo of it in my chest, a tug in the direction he’d gone, as if my magic could sense his absence even when my mind tried to ignore it.After he left that morning, Oscar had lingered at the door, uncertain, offering me a hesitant nod before disappearing down the corridor. I’d smiled, trying to assure him I was fine, but I wasn’t sure if I’d convinced either of us.I made my way back to the room Kaine and I shared. The bedding was still rumpled from when he’d left before dawn, his scent lingering like a memory too stubborn to fade. I sat on the edge of the bed, running my hands over the sheets.It was strange, the way grief and strength existed in the same breath inside me now. Since the miscarriage, I hadn’t felt fragile, exactly. If anything, I felt like something
Kaine’s pov. The corridors of the fortress were quieter than usual. Morning hadn’t fully broken, but the tension clinging to the walls had a voice of its own. My footsteps were silent as I passed the guards, their eyes shifting subtly to me but none daring to ask where I was going.Oscar was already waiting at the stables. He’d saddled the black mare I favored on long rides—Stormbreaker, powerful and sharp-eyed and had a pack strapped with provisions. The look on his face told me he knew better than to ask questions.“She’s still sleeping,” he said quietly as I mounted. “You sure you want to do this now? You could wait, bring her into the loop—”“She’ll know soon enough,” I interrupted, pulling the reins back just slightly. “But I won’t risk her again. Not for this.”Oscar’s jaw tightened. “We’re with you, you know that.”I gave him a nod. “Then ride out. Check the southern edge first. The map says the ruins used to be near the cliff, before the waterline rose.”Oscar mounted his hor
Celine’s pov. Murmurs rippled like a crack in ice.“She could be lying,” I continued. “It’s what she does best. But until we know for sure, we have to assume the threat is real.”“What would they want now?” someone asked. “With Tess locked away?”“The same thing she wanted,” I said. “Chaos. Power. Revenge.”“She killed threatened the safety of our children,” another growled. “If there are more like her—”“We don’t know that yet,” I said, raising a hand. “But if they exist, we’ll be ready.”Kaine finally spoke then, “The security measures have already begun. We’ll be unpredictable in our patrols. The pack will stay inside warded zones after dusk. We will not be caught unprepared.”“And what about you?” one of the older matriarchs asked, eyes settling on me. “If there’s more coming… if this is only the beginning… what will you do, Celine?”I stood then, not out of drama, but necessity.“I’ll be ready too,” I said. “For whatever comes. For however it comes. You trusted me once before. T
Kaine’s pov. Then she pulled away, sharp again.“She’s a threat,” she said. “Even chained. Even silent.”“I know.”“She can’t stay here forever.”“I know.”Celine’s voice dropped. “Do you think she meant it? That she has help?”I hesitated.Then… “If she does, they’ll show themselves. Sooner or later. They always do.”She didn’t argue.“We should prepare for an outside attack,” she said. “Reinforce the perimeter. Shift the guards to random patterns. Have Oscar go over the wards again.”I blinked. “You’ve already thought this through.”“I started the second she looked me in the eye and smiled like she was still winning.”I swallowed down the sick feeling rising in my throat.“She doesn’t win,” I said. “Not this time.”Celine nodded slowly, then walked toward the window. The moon spilled across her features, catching in her hair, her eyes.“I wasn’t afraid,” she said, almost too softly to hear. “Not of her. Not of what she’d say. I thought I would be.”“And you’re not?”“I’m angry,” sh
Celine’s pov. The steps down to the cellar were colder than I remembered. Stone groaned softly beneath my feet, as if it, too, had suffered long enough. Runes lit the path in dull blue glimmers, flickering each time I passed them, reacting to the hum of magic pulsing just beneath my skin.I wasn’t sure what I expected to find down here. I only knew I had to see her.Two guards flanked the heavy iron door. Both straightened as I approached, but neither spoke. They knew better. I nodded once, and one stepped aside to undo the layers of wards and locks. Silver clinked. Charms buzzed as they unraveled. The door swung open with a reluctant groan. The smell hit first—damp earth, blood, and something acrid like burnt herbs and rot.Tess sat in the center of the cell, bound by silver-dipped shackles and spells Kaine had approved himself. Her arms were chained behind her, her legs crossed awkwardly in front of her. Magic-suppressing cuffs bit into her wrists, and a ring of salt and ash encircl