Chapter 100

Mira’s POV

The walls here were pure obsidian and iron, darker than midnight and twice as unforgiving. The second I crossed that threshold, those massive doors slammed so hard behind me, the torches flickered. Blood clung to my skin. Not fresh, but definitely there.

God, I hate failing. It doesn't matter how many times I tell myself to toughen up, it sits on me like a curse every single damn time.

And Dominic? That bastard survived.

I had run through every possible outcome, made my peace with pretty much all of them... except that one. He was weak, barely hanging on, reeking of death and desperation. In my mind, he had already died. But nope. He just had to ruin it. Not only did he make it, but he looked at me like I was something to pity.

That stung more than losing the fortress. More than all the blood. That look set my nerves on fire.

I ripped my gauntlets off and hurled them at the war table. They crashed down, scattering my carefully arranged troops like cheap toys. The soldiers lining the room stiffened up, eyes wide, probably praying I wouldn’t notice them next.

“Out,” I snapped.

They ghosted out of there so fast, I almost laughed. Almost.

Silence.

Just me and the angry thud of my heartbeat. I inhaled and tried to steady myself until I could finally breathe normally again.

Then the door creaked open, and my father’s voice rang out in all cold amusement. “Heard you lost the fortress,” he said.

Didn’t bother turning around. “Heard wrong,” I shot back. “I gave it to them.”

He laughed. “Retreat’s got a new name, huh?”

I turned, slow and deliberate. “It was a test. They passed. Now I know exactly what they can do.”

He raised an eyebrow, really dramatic. “You sound like your mother.”

Ah, there it was. The old wound. But you know what? It didn’t even hurt anymore.

“Maybe that’s not the worst thing,” I said.

He walked round the table, silver hair shining, looking every inch the arrogant Alpha. “Your mother was a dreamer. Prophecy, bloodlines, fate... she ate that stuff up. But you? You’re chaos. Dangerous. Stupid.”

“Stupid?” My voice shot up, pissed. “Because I won’t play with a puppet?”

He grinned, sharp as a knife. “Because you think revenge is the same as a plan.”

The wolf inside me snarled. “Dominic took everything. He broke the bond. Humiliated me. If all I’ve got left is vengeance, I’ll wear it like a crown.”

His eyes glittered. “You can’t break a guy like Dominic by charging at him. He’s built for war. You wanna destroy him? Go for what makes him human.”

That stopped me for a second.

I leaned on the table, trying to slow my pulse. “Elora,” I muttered.

He didn’t answer, but he didn’t need to.

A slow, ugly smile crept across my face. “You think I haven’t considered that?”

He studied me, squinting his eyes. “You’re closer to the edge than I thought. Makes me wonder, just how far are you willing to go before even I have to stop you?”

I stared at him down. “Further than you ever did.”

Turned away then, before he could see anything soft or broken in my expression. Not that there was much left. Whatever used to burn between me and Dominic... that bond... it was gone. Replaced by something cold. Something means.

Not love... not by a long shot. Whatever it was, it was darker. A twisted echo of what should’ve been, poisoned by betrayal.

But it was still there. Still enough to make me want to watch him bleed.

I crossed the room and pulled open a drawer. There it was... a crescent-shaped silver pendant, stolen ages ago from the Crescent Moon pack. I held it up and felt the old magic humming.

“Call in the Night Blades,” I said, voice low.

My father cocked his head. “The assassins? For a skirmish?”

“This isn’t about winning,” I told him. “It’s about breaking them.”

He folded his arms. “Let’s hear it.”

I set the pendant down right on Crescent Moon territory. “Dante and Elora, they’re Dominic’s heart now. Take them out, I don’t need to storm his gates. He’ll implode.”

He just stared at me for a long time. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

I already knew that.

“I’m done playing,” I said, grinning. “The game's over. I’m finishing this.”

He edged closer, his voice quieter. “And when they strike back? When Dominic tries to take your head off again?”

I stared at him down, my eyes determined. “Then let him come. This time, I’ll make sure he’s got something to lose, too.”

Magnus let out a laugh. “You really are your mother’s kid, huh?”

He turned and disappeared down the corridor, boots thudding against the stone.

The second the door clicked shut, all that cool control I’d worn like armor just… slipped. My hands were shaking, not from fear, hell no, but from trying to hold myself back. The wolf inside me? She wanted blood. My stupid heart? I wanted something it couldn’t even name.

Dominic’s face flashed through my head, the look he gave me up on that ridge. Pure rage. Shock. And, yeah, that's gross, quite a pity.

That’s what really made me want to burn the world down.

My fist came down on the table, hard enough to split the thing.

“Send word,” I snarled at the shadow lurking in the corner, the scout who was basically a ghost, but deadlier. “Find the Crescent warriors. Hit them when their guard’s down.”

The shadow dipped its head. “A siege?”

“No,” I said, and my voice went all soft and dangerous. “No sieges. No big battles. Leave their walls standing. I want their hearts gutted.”

A pause. The shadow hesitated. “How?”

“Take what they love,” I breathed. “Let them keep breathing.”

That was enough. The scout just melted into the darkness, no sound, just gone.

Alone again, I crossed to the mirror on the wall. My reflection stared back at me, eyes burning with rage and my mouth twisted in a grin and a growl.

I pressed my fingers to the glass. Cool, almost humming under my touch.

“You really think you can just forget me, Dominic?” I whispered. “Go fall for someone else and pretend none of this ever happened?”

The mirror shimmered, just a little. Like I wanted to answer.

I smirked.

“Go on, then,” I said, voice low. “Watch me remind you what losing everything actually feels like.”

Outside, thunder rolled. The storm wasn’t coming for land or some pointless piece of territory.

It was coming for hearts.

For payback.

For me.