FATE OR MANIPULATION

That night in Seraphine's room, sleep came with violent fits, and each nightmare felt worse than the last.

She saw terrible fangs breathing out billows of smoke and fire everywhere. Her siblings were screaming. Her entire village was engulfed in smoke.  Arctic blue eyes boring into her soul, bloody claws and grinning fangs slashing and lodging deep into her skin, eliciting a scream as she woke with a shocked gasp, drenched in sweat.

A presence hovered in the dark.

She grabbed her dagger and spun—

Only to find a small envelope sitting on the windowsill, sealed with black wax.

She looked around searching for the intruder, spotting no one and nothing out of place, Seraphine opened it.

Inside was another letter with three words:

“He will betray.”

                                                                                     ,,,

Vaelspire Keep In The Lower Crypts

Alaric stood before a rusted iron door deep beneath the keep. The air tasted like bone dust and dark secrets waiting to be revealed.

Beside him, Riven stood silent in the shadows, his expression unreadable. In his hands was a piece of paper.

“Tell me something good.” Alaric peered out the curtain to the treacherous landscape before him, jagged mountains, tall forest trees, and rocky terrains.

“My scouts have surveyed the entire southern region. There were two sightings of a Hybrid stronghold and we’re taking them out tonight.”

“Only two?” Alaric turned to Raven as he sat on the workchair, in front of an oval oak table

“We will keep searching, my Lord.”

“Good.” He nodded. “What about the humans?”

“Members of the council have reached out.”

“They will obey, I take it?” Alaric said with a grimace.

“They will deliver the hunter to our gates in two Crescent Moons.” Riven confirmed.

“Tell me, Riven.” Alaric turned away from his second-in-command. “Should I hold these humans to their word?”

“You are the Alpha, My Lord. I dare not decide.” Riven replied with his head bowed.

Alaric whirled around, “You were bound to my sister. The next full moon would’ve been your mating ceremony, yet you speak so calmly, you appear unaffected by the dealings with those murderers.”

“It is not my right to take revenge.” Was the solemn reply.

“Send a reply to the humans and tell them we will wait for their delivery.” He stood up and headed for the door.

Riven’s eyebrows shot up at the order. “As you wish, my Lord.”

Alaric walked past him, “Ready the army. We attack by nightfall tomorrow. Duskbane’s life is mine to take.”

                                                                                      ,,,

Alaric Vaelthorn couldn’t sleep. Again.

The wind howled through the peaks like voices from the dead, and still, he paced. His claws dug into the marble floor of the ancestral chamber with each step, each turn. Something throbbed deep inside him, a phantom pain that refused to be silenced.

The scent of the bond.

Seraphine Duskbane clung to his skin even after he’d tried to wash her off him by cleansing himself in Hollowmere Mountain Fountain.

The bond pulsed through his veins like wildfire, violent, sharp, sacred, and he hated it.

He had tried. Moon above, he had tried to bury it. To ignore it. To resist it.

But every time he breathed, his chest tightened. Every time he bled, he felt it in his soul. His Wolf clawed and howled for her.

And that enraged him even further.

Because she was a human, she was weak. A hunter of his kind. And worst of all, she'd killed his only sister.

Yet the bond had chosen her.

And that was something he could no longer ignore.

He strode into the east wing of Vaelspire Keep, the flame of the torches flickering as he passed. Past the stone wolves and sigils of his bloodline. Past the chamber where his sister once sang to the moon as a girl.

And into the darkness of the chamber dungeon.

She was waiting for him.

Nyssa Greymoor, the seer, once a close friend and ally to the pure-blood, now a traitor, prisoner, and lover of dark magic.

“You look haunted, Wolf Prince.” she said, sitting crisscross-applesauce and barefoot on the rune-inscribed floor. Bloody rune inscriptions marred her feet and palms.

“I need your help.” He gritted out.

Her golden eyes glinted. “With the hunter?”

“Don’t look so shocked, wolf prince. I was born with the gift of sight.” She laughed as Alaric struggled to get his bearings.

“The bond. I want it severed.”

A long pause.

Nyssa rose slowly, gracefully, like liquid shadow. “You want to sever the bond?”

“I want it gone.”

She tilted her head. “You do realize… it could destroy your soul.”

“I’m aware.”

Nyssa studied him. “And if it doesn’t kill you, it will unmake you. No pureblooded Vaelthorn has ever tried this. Do you know what that kind of destruction it causes to the wolf inside?”

He clenched his jaw. “I’ll take that risk.”

“Because you believe it’s a mistake?”

He said nothing.

“Or because you can’t forgive her?” Nyssa probed.

"She is a human. Weak." He spat out. His disgust was palpable.

Nyssa stepped closer, her voice low and dangerous. “You know what I think? You don’t want the bond gone because she’s human. You want it gone because you’re getting attached.”

“I didn’t ask your opinion, traitor.”

“You’re afraid, Alaric. Not of the bond. But what it will force you to become. It will force you to protect her. It will force you to give her your seed.”

Alaric met her gaze. “Then destroy it.”

It was not a plea nor was it a request.

It was a challenge.

Nyssa sighed and drew a dagger from the folds of her robe. It wasn’t for killing.

It was for her dark rituals.

“Lie down.”

He obeyed, his wolf hammered against his ribcage, demanding its release, promising retribution to whomever would tear it apart from its mate. Alaric ignored its protests and forced it down.

“This will hurt,” she whispered.

He closed his eyes, “Good.”