LOGINI thought heartbreak would break me. Maybe it did. But not in the way I expected. It awakened the monster inside. On the night I caught my boyfriend of five years with another woman, something snapped inside me. I wore rage like an outfit. Claws tore through my skin. I heard voices in my head, voices I was certain weren’t mine. Then he appeared. Darian McAlister, the Lycan prince, all shades of danger wrapped in silver hair and flaming eyes. He saved me from myself that night, and then, accidentally marked me. Now, I'm tied to the man who's already betrothed to another. A man who wants nothing to do with me, and has made that clear. A man who still lurks in the shadows, waiting for something. And to make things worse, the Lycan family wants me dead, because the blood flowing through my veins creates a bond between me and the enemy that nearly destroyed them. But fate doesn't care about politics or debts owed. The accidental marking demands blood, and if we don't complete the Lycan’s mating process… One of us dies.
View MoreIris’ POV
He’s late. Again.
“Archer!” I type for the twentieth time tonight, my thumbs trembling. “Where are you?”
The double-tick flash across the screen, just like the other messages I’ve left him. Yet, Archer is nowhere to be found.
My eyes dart around the cozy restaurant, and then back at the door. The waiter approaches again, but this time, the warmth in her eyes is gone.
“You’ve got to leave now,” she starts, picking up the empty glass on the table. “The restaurant is about to close.”
“Please.” I stare up at her with puppy eyes. Archer finds it cute. “He’ll be here any minute now. I’m sure he’s just running late because of traffic.”
She grabs the tray under the glass and scoffs. "He stood you up, girl! If you have any dignity left, I'll advise you to grab your things and go home. Block his ass and move on with your life. He doesn't deserve you."
“You don’t know him enough to say that!” I snap, jumping to my feet. “Archer was right. I should have postponed our anniversary celebration. He told me he was going to be busy this week. Right now, he’s risking his life to get here.”
“Is he at least answering his phone?”
The lie is on the tip of my tongue, but I stop myself.
"Sweetheart," the waitress leans in. "It's almost midnight. There's no traffic at 11 pm."
I grab my things and make for the door. “Thanks, but I don’t need your advice.”
Outside, the chill in the air hits me instantly. Wrapping my arms around myself, I look at both sides of the road, wondering if I should call Daisy to come get me or just wait a little longer.
I know Archer will still come around. He always does. He knows how important today is for both of us.
And that’s when I see him.
Right across the street. His hair is tousled by the wind, and his arms are wrapped around the waist of someone else. His teeth glimmer under the neon lights of the club's entrance as he laughs at something she says.
He pushes a curl behind her ear, and I think I am going to lose my mind.
Sabine. I have seen her a million times in school. Her platinum-blonde hair is unmistakable, and the way she carries herself, like she's the answer to everyone's prayers.
My chest caves in just as Archer pulls her closer to him. His lips find hers, and she giggles like a love-struck high schooler.
My boyfriend, who has been with me for five years, is kissing another girl on the night of our anniversary.
I barely realize when my purse hits the ground in a whisper. Something inside me tears. It sounds like a hiss, like dry wood tossed into a hearth. My chest thumps so hard, as if trying to claw right out of my chest.
Fire engulfs my whole being suddenly, pulling me under. I don’t attempt to fight it, my rage edging it on. It is hard to breathe, but I find out that I am fine without it. I curl my hands into fists.
I can feel my nails digging into my palm. Last I checked, they were not that long for something like that to happen.
My chest rises and falls. Heat floods my bones. My back curves.
“Isn’t that your little girlfriend over there?” I hear Sabina giggle from across the road.
Archer turns casually, his lips mere inches away from hers. “Iris?”
He angles his head, as if to make sure it is really me. His eyes widen when he takes me in, like he’s surprised I saw them.
The nerve of Archer!
I don’t think twice about it as I charge towards them. All that I can picture is that little grin on Sabine’s face, and how bad I want to wipe it off.
My heels hit the pavement, but I can tell something is wrong. Everything feels sharper. I can tell the red and green apart in the neon lights of the club, and I can hear the scrape of a chair from somewhere upstairs.
I stop when a baby cries exactly five blocks away. A woman whispers, “Shhhh. You’re going to wake the world.”
Sabrina's laughter brings me back. "What are you trying to do? Fight back? We all know you are a two-goody-shoes for that. You're only going to end up hurt."
“She’s right, Iris,” Archer murmurs, slowly stepping in front of her. “You should calm down, okay? Let’s talk.”
“Talk?” My voice breaks, but it isn’t fear. I am boiling with so much anger than I can contain. “You’ve been ignoring my texts all day, and now, you’re right across the street from the restaurant reserved for our anniversary, making out with her?”
Something shifts under my skin, just as Sabine scoffs. "Don't blame him, Iris. You were just never good enough for him, and you never will be."
I don't remember moving. One second, Sabine is grinning, and the next, her back hits the wall behind her, a sharp crack echoing into the night. My hand pins her in place, and my eyes don't feel like mine.
“What did you just say?” I growl, my nails digging into her neck.
“Iris!” Archer screams, pulling my arm. “Stop this right now! You could hurt her.”
The minute his hands touch my skin, Sabine is the last person on my mind. I edge towards him, but just then, a blinding pain hits, pushing me to the ground.
My bones are stretching, breaking, and hurting. I feel something trying to crawl out of me. I can hear Archer somewhere in the distance, still screaming, but I can't tell what he is screaming at.
Suddenly, strong arms yank me off the floor, a blur of silver and black in my vision. I fight hard against him, but his hold is too strong. He’s moving. I can tell by the rhythm rocking through me.
“Let me go!”
“Not until you are calm,” a cold voice responds. Something about it makes me stop.
“Who…who are you?”
“The one who just saved your life.”
And then, the pain returns. I hear his voice faintly.
“I’ve got you.”
IRISI grip the wooden staff tighter, feeling it thrum with every movement I make. Grandfather watches me from across the training yard, arms folded, his eyes sharp as ever. “Again,” he says. “Faster. Strike with purpose, not hesitation.”I pivot, swing, and jab. My muscles scream, but I push through. The staff clicks against his own with a precision that makes my teeth grit. “Better,” he nods. “Your footwork is clean, Iris. Again.”We move in a rhythm now, attack and counter, a loop that makes sweat sting my eyes. I’m improving fast and I even notice it. Grandfather’s brow lifts slightly each time I anticipate his strike. “You’ve got talent,” he says, and for a split second, pride warms my chest. “Better than I expected.”I smirk. “Told you I wasn’t useless.”He chuckles low. “You’re far from useless. But talent without control is dangerous.” His voice is calm, steady, like it always is, but there’s that edge underneath, the one I’ve felt my entire life. “Ten more rounds. Make me see
ADRIANThe dining hall still smells like wine and tension.Everyone’s pretending the spill didn’t happen. The servants are scrubbing at the stain like it’s a sin they can erase, but the red only spreads deeper, darker. My brother’s laughter still echoes faintly in my ears, sharp, strained, nothing like him.I watch Zeus storm out before dessert even hits the table, shoulders tight, jaw locked like he’s holding back something dangerous.Something’s wrong.I feel it in my bones.I give it a minute before I follow, rising from my seat. “Excuse me,” I mutter, ignoring Father’s questioning look. The moment I’m outside, the air hits cold against my face. I spot Zeus’s silhouette already halfway down the corridor, moving like a shadow with purpose.“Zeus!” I call out.He doesn’t stop. Doesn’t even slow down.“Zeus!” I try again, louder. “You’re not gonna pretend that didn’t just happen, are you?”He keeps walking. The bastard’s acting like I’m air.Something in me snaps. I quicken my pace,
ZEUSThe night breathes in silence. The Haven always does before blood is spilled.I move through the marble corridors like a ghost, every footstep measured, my heartbeat steady. The servants pass me, heads bowed. None of them look twice. They know better. In my jacket pocket sits a tiny glass vial.Vallora.Odorless. Tasteless. The quietest of killers. Conan said five drops were enough to stop a heart, but I brought seven because I’ve seen the King’s strength, the stubborn pulse of his Lycan blood. He will not die easily.The vial feels warm between my fingers as I pull it out in the kitchens.A single candle burns in the corner, throwing amber light over the copper pots and clean silverware. The cooks have already finished the evening meal. I made sure of it. I told them I wanted to “serve my father personally” to show respect.They looked thrilled. The dutiful son, stepping up at last.Idiots.The kitchen smells of roasted meat and herbs. There’s a jug of wine waiting, half full.
ZEUSI walk into the high vaulted foyer of the Haven, with my boots thudding softly against the polished stone floor. My mind is a spiral of purposeful thoughts, each one sharpened like a dagger aimed at the heart of the throne room. I tell myself Daisy doesn’t mean anything. I tell myself she’s done. I tell myself that the flicker of something I felt when she screamed at me, when I kissed her was just the residue of a game. She was a pawn and I’m done with her now. I need to move on. The world will bend beneath me soon.Darian is out of town. The conglomerate packs had trouble, the usual rogues, raiding, chaos. Perfect. He’s away and our father, the Lycan King, is off consulting outlying territories. He’s trusting. Relaxed. Thinking his heir will never lift a finger. He’s wrong. By the time Darian returns, the throne will be mine. All mine. This is the next phase. The plan Adira and I have crafted. Calculated, precise. A whisper, then a collapse.I pause at a corridor intersection
DAISYI stomp away from Adrian without a backward glance, my boots pounding hard against the cracked pavement outside the school. His voice trails behind me, light and teasing, but I’m beyond caring. His words bounce off me like water off stone, but the ache inside won’t let me forget the bombshell he just dropped. Adira. Zeus. Together. After everything.My fists clench and unclench, fingers scraping the rough fabric of my jacket, trying to hold myself together. But the tension in my chest tightens, a coil snapping inside my ribs. I round the corner near the bleachers, searching for a quiet spot, somewhere to catch my breath.The world spins, and I lean against the cold brick wall. My vision blurs as the tears break through—soft sobs, barely audible, trembling with betrayal and confusion. I’m alone. Iris isn’t at school today, and the chaos inside me needs somewhere to go. I can’t call her. I don’t know who else to turn to.A shadow falls over me.“Daisy.”I flinch but don’t look up.
DAISYThe sun is way too bright for someone like me, whose morning started with three hours of homework, a burnt piece of toast, and a caffeine crash halfway to school. I drag myself into the courtyard, my bag slung over one shoulder, clutching a book that definitely isn’t for class.Of course, Adrian McAlister is exactly where I expect him, sprawled out on the stone ledge near the fountains, looking like he walked straight out of a YA fantasy novel. Lazy smirk, perfectly messy hair, and a phone in his hand like it’s his lifeline.“Look who finally decided to show up,” he says, barely glancing up. “I was starting to think you’d joined some cult or something.”“I did,” I say, dropping my bag with a thud. “We worship books and drink iced coffee instead of Kool-Aid.”He raises an eyebrow. “I think I’ve read that book.”“Probably didn’t finish it.”“You wound me.”I sit down beside him, careful not to get too close, and hold up the book for him to see; A Court of Fang and Foolish Decision
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