FAZER LOGINThe words hung in the air.Kiyan moved in front of me fully now, blocking my path, his gaze steady in a way that forced me to focus on him whether I wanted to or not.“You don’t mean that,” he said quietly.“I do.”“No, you don’t.” he replied, just as quiet, just as certain.Something in his tone—something grounded, something unyielding—cut through the noise in my head.“I felt it through the bond, Kiyan. Her fear. Her terror. She was crying because of what Valora did. Because of me.”Kiyan stood, stepping into my path. “I know. I get it. But think about what happens next. You rip her head off and her coven declares war on Narth. Your father will have to choose sides. The alliance crumbles. And Rosalind? She becomes the first target. A pawn.Bottom-tier were-wolf used to settle scores between the big leagues. Is that what you want?”I wanted to roar. I wanted to tear the room apart. But I forced myself to listen, because he was right.The last war had taken Rivan from me.I remembered
I couldn’t sit still.The room felt too small, too suffocating, like the walls were closing in with every step I took. I paced from one end to the other, boots striking against the floor in sharp, uneven rhythms, my hands clenching and unclenching at my sides like I was trying to hold something back—something violent, something inevitable.“Aklan,” Kiyan said for what had to be the fifth time. “You need to calm down.”I didn’t answer because I couldn’t.Every time I slowed, every time I tried to listen, it came rushing back—the image of her in that clearing, trembling, terrified, completely out of control. I could still feel it, like it hadn’t ended, like it was still happening somewhere inside me.The mate bond pulsed under my skin, raw and relentless.I shouldn’t have been tapping into it.I knew that.It was torture—pure, self-inflicted torture, but I couldn’t stop. I kept reaching for it, kept brushing against the echo of her fear, her confusion, her pain. It wrapped around my che
The room was small, circular, walls lined with shelves of forbidden texts and relics my father had smuggled here over the years.I walked straight to the center, where a chest sat on a low stone pedestal.It was green, ornate and unmistakable. The magic radiating from it made me want to run out of the room, but I couldn’t. I had to do this.My hands trembled slightly as I knelt in front of it, the key fitting perfectly into the lock like it had been made for that moment alone. It clicked open with quiet finality.I lifted the lid.Inside, resting on dark velvet, was the gold amulet.A single emerald in the center, the size of my thumbnail, carved with runes older than Norsen itself.The kind of object that didn’t just carry magic—it was magic. It hummed faintly as I picked it up, the weight of it far heavier than it should have been.I swallowed hard, my grip tightening.“This is it,” I murmured.For a moment, I couldn’t move.All the years of preparation, all the warnings, all the th
The letter arrived at dawn.I found it slipping under my door like a secret shame, unconcealed and with no seal, just my name in my father’s sharp, unyielding handwriting. I knew what it would say before I opened it. I’d known for years.My heart didn’t race. It didn’t leap or falter or hesitate the way it used to when I was younger, when every piece of news from home felt like something sacred, something I wasn’t quite ready to carry. This time, it simply… settled in my bones like oil. Heavy. Certain.I closed the door behind me before breaking the seal, my fingers steady even as something deeper inside me shifted into place.I made my way to the edge of my bed and sat, the parchment trembling in my fingers, and read the words I’d been dreading since I was nineteen.“The time has come for the wheel of magic has turned. The Veil is thinning. The Marked One has awakened. Return at once and bring the Amulet of Othon with you. I believe you must have found it. Your son’s life depends on
“No.” His voice was flat, almost bored. “You were hypothermic. Near death. I ran you a bath. Body heat. That’s all.”I stared at him, searching his face for the lie.There wasn’t one.I exhaled shakily, relief warring with something sharper—something that felt dangerously close to disappointment.He smirked—just a flicker at the corner of his mouth, but it was enough. “Disappointed?”I glared at him, heat flooding my face. “In your dreams.”His grin widened, slow and deliberate. “You were the one almost begging the last time.”The memory slammed into me, his mouth on mine, his fingers inside me, the way I’d arched, moaned, squirmed like a loser and almost begged. My thighs clenched involuntarily.I shoved off the wall, looking for my clothes. “I need to leave.”He stepped into my path, blocking the dresser. “We need to talk.”“I have nothing to say to you.” I ducked around him, rummaging through the pile of fabric on the chair until I found my skirt and blouse—clean, folded, pressed,
My body ached like it never had before, every muscle, every nerve felt like they had been pulled apart and only just put together a few minutes before I woke up. Whatever I was feeling, it was hell on earth.I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands and the sight of the strange room I was in came to view. The walls were painted in ivory and decorated in tones of burgundy and gold. It looked regal to say the least.I shifted to the side, Still groggy from the sleepiness and saw the large four-poster I had slept on, big enough to fit six bodies comfortably. Slowly, and I mean, painfully slowly, I realized this wasn’t my room, and the memories of last night began to flood in bits and pieces.I ran off into the woods from the bathroom where I had almost obliterated Valora and her minions.I pressed my palm to my chest as the recollection finally slammed into place. I remembered how I had screamed—not just with my mouth, but with something deeper, something buried under skin and bone. I re
By the time I made it back to the dorm, my brain was a swirl of confusion and exhaustion. My boots barely made a sound on the stone floors, and all I wanted was to collapse face-first onto my bed and pretend I didn’t exist for a few hours. But as soon as I opened the door, two pairs of eyes shot to
I carried her the entire way back to Norsen, her weight light in my arms and unbearably heavy in my chest. She barely stirred, her head tucked beneath my chin, her breath shallow and uneven against my throat.The forest gave way to stone paths and torchlight, but none of it registered properly. All
The hallway was a ghost town at this hour—midnight had come and gone, and the academy slept under a blanket of silence broken only by the distant hoot of an owl. I leaned against the wall, bag slung over one shoulder, filled with essentials: dagger, cloak, a few potions from the black market, and t
By the time dinner was over and the sun began sinking behind the western towers of Norsen, all I wanted was a bed, a blanket, and the sweet, comforting silence of not having to think about Aklan for even five seconds.Ferna, Elsie, and I made our way down the long stone pathway toward our dorm wing







