로그인LADY SERAPHINE'S POVThe moment the door slams open, I know something is wrong. I don’t need the breathless servant stumbling over her words to tell me.“My Lady.....” she gasps, bowing too quickly, too messily. “She....she’s back....”The words don’t fully register at first.My mind rejects them because they don’t make sense. They can not be true.“Say that again,” I tell her, my voice soft.The servant swallows hard, trembling.“Saphra,” she whispers. “She’s inside the palace.”For a moment everything goes very, very still.Then the world snaps.The crystal vase in my hand leaves my fingers before I even realize I’ve moved.It shatters against the far wall in a violent explosion of glass and sound, shards scattering across the polished floor like fragments of something far more fragile.The servant flinches, dropping to her knees with a choked cry.I don’t look at her.I can’t.Because something hot and vicious is rising inside me, clawing its way up my throat.“She what?” I breathe
SAPHRA’S POV When we reach the palace Mara leaves us and heads to the servant quaters to create a distraction for us. We wait in the darkness. Every step echoes faintly, a reminder of how exposed we are despite the darkness wrapping around us. Then, a voice cuts through the silence above us. Sharp and loud. Familiar. “I told you I left it there!” Mara. I freeze for half a second, my heart jumping into my throat. Her voice rises again, louder this time, edged with frustration. “Don’t lie to me! I know it was here!” The sound carries through the stone above us, distorted but clear enough. Marcus doesn’t stop. If anything, he moves faster. “It’s working,” he murmurs. Above us, more voices join in. Confused, arguing. “What are you talking about?” “I didn’t take anything.” “You’re accusing me now?” The noise builds quickly, overlapping shouts echoing faintly down through the tunnels. Servants. Guards. Exactly what we need. My chest tightens, I know Mara is up there
SAPHRA'S POVDawn comes without warmth.The sky is a dull, lifeless grey. The mist hangs low over the forest floor, thick enough to swallow shapes and blur edges, turning everything into shadows.It feels wrong.Like the world itself knows what waits ahead.I pull my cloak tighter around my shoulders as we move, the fabric brushing softly against my legs with each step. The cold seeps through anyway, settling deep into my bones but I barely notice it.My focus is fixed ahead, on the path to the palace.Marcus leads us, his movements sharp and precise despite the exhaustion etched into every line of his body. He knows these woods better than anyone, guiding us through narrow, winding trails that twist away from the main roads.Every sound feels too loud in the quiet morning, the crunch of leaves beneath our boots, the faint rustle of branches as we pass and the steady rhythm of our breathing.Mara walks close to my right, her presence a steady anchor. I can feel the tension in her, the
SAPHRA'S POVSleep won’t come.I try.I lie on the thin bedroll, staring up at the rough wooden ceiling of the hideout, listening to the quiet sounds of the forest outside. I listen to the wind threading through branches, the faint crackle of the dying fire, the soft shift of movement from the others.But my mind won’t stop.It keeps circling the same thoughts.The same images.Lucien.The palace.Tomorrow.Every time I close my eyes, I see him. Not just the monster he’s becoming but the man he was.The man he still is somewhere beneath all of it. And the thought that I might be too late. It drags me back awake every time.I exhale slowly, turning onto my side.This is useless.I’m not going to sleep.Not like this.Carefully, I push myself up, ignoring the dull pull in my stomach where the wound still hasn’t fully healed. It’s better than it was, but not enough to forget.Nothing about this lets me forget.The hideout is dim, lit only by the fading glow of embers. Marcus sits near th
MARCUS’S POVI spread the map across the rough wooden table, pressing my palm flat against one corner to keep it from curling. Mara pins the opposite side with a small dagger, the blade catching the firelight. Saphra stands across from me, her gaze fixed, sharp, absorbing everything.Eira lingers slightly behind her, silent but present.Watching.“This was the last stable layout,” I say, my voice low, controlled. “Before things started… changing.”That’s one way to put it.Before Lucien started losing himself.Before the guards stopped trusting their own shadows.Before the palace became something unrecognizable.My finger traces along the outer wall, moving inward.“Guard rotations used to follow a strict pattern,” I continue. “Four-hour shifts. Overlapping coverage. Predictable.”I tap the map once.“That’s gone now.”Saphra’s brow furrows slightly.“How bad is it?” she asks.I exhale slowly.“Unpredictable,” I say. “Sometimes they rotate early. Sometimes they don’t rotate at all. H
MARCUS’S POVWhile Saphra was practicing how to control her powers I focus on our battle strategy. I return to the palace, Lucien is still in the same condition that I left him, still possessed. Lady Seraphine is still giving orders in the pack. They both seemed like they didn’t know i was gone for a while.Good. I stay in the palace and then after I decide to leave. By the time I reach the hideout, night has already swallowed the forest whole.The air is colder than it should be or maybe that’s just me.Everything inside me feels worn thin, like I’ve been stretched too far for too long, and something is finally starting to tear.I don’t remember the last time I slept properly. Don’t remember the last time I closed my eyes without seeing Lucien or what is left of him.The small clearing comes into view through the trees, faint firelight flickering between the branches. My shoulders loosen slightly not from relief, but from reaching the next step in something I don’t have the luxury to
MARCUS’S POVI have stood before Lucien Darkveil while cities burned.I have delivered reports soaked in blood, casualty counts that would have broken lesser Alphas. I have argued strategy while enemies pounded at our borders and traitors rotted in our dungeons.Never—not once have my hands shaken
SAPHRA'S POV I don't plan to tell her but the confession begins anyway. It starts as a crack and then everything inside me gives way.“Mara,” I say, my voice already shaking. “I need you to listen and try to understand me.”She stills instantly. The shutters are half-closed, dawn hours away. Candl
MARCUS’S POV I have learned to trust unease.It is a quiet thing, rarely dramatic, never loud but it has kept me alive longer than strength or steel ever could.Tonight, it sits with me in my office, coiled low in my gut, watching as I spread documents across the broad oak desk. Maps of the easter
MARCUS’S POV I should not be here.The knowledge follows me down the corridor like a shadow I can not outrun. Lucien’s order still vibrates in my bones and yet every instinct I possess screams that inaction now is betrayal later.I will find more proof.Something tangible. Something undeniable. S







