Chapter Three.

Riven clapped his hand and maids appeared,clearing the shattered glasses while quickly bringing in a new one. He handed over the dress he chose for her.

The silk robe slid over her body like liquid dusk.

Deep crimson, trimmed in black fur, fitted to her curves but regal enough to demand obedience. Her skin was still warm from the bath, and though her throat no longer glowed, the phantom ache of the mark pulsed beneath the silk collar stitched to hide it.

Riven adored her body with his eyes,he watched her face from the new mirror that had been set,then she looked up to meet his gaze, the silence between them buzzed.

“Your throne room is being prepared,” he said, voice low. “They await their Queen.”

Raya gave a slight nod, sliding her fingers through her damp hair. “How many are assembled?”

“More than usual. Word of your success traveled fast.”

She caught his tone,measured, but proud.

She didn’t respond.

Victory should have tasted sweet. But all she felt was a strange emptiness beneath her ribs. As if something had been taken from her in that wild night... and something else had been left behind.

She stepped out into the corridor, head high, eyes hard. The scent of burning pine filled the halls,an ancient tradition for returning alphas. Her footsteps echoed off the stone floor as she approached the towering arched doors of the throne room.

Two guards flanked the entrance, fists to chests in salute. The doors swung open.

And the room fell silent.

Every head bowed.

Every knee bent.

Her wolves, her court, her soldiers. Cloaked in furs, polished armor, tribal beads and war paint. They knelt as one, eyes averted.

A sea of loyalty.

But all Raya could feel was the weight of her own pulse in her throat.

She moved slowly through the aisle, the robe trailing behind her like flowing blood. The throne,a towering obsidian seat wrapped in bone and carved vines,stood at the far end, raised above the court. Her steps never faltered.Their headaches were down till she climbed up the stairs and sat on her throne.

Riven stood by the base of the platform. He offered his hand without a word, and she took it.

When she ascended and sat, the court rose with a thunderous sound,howls, chants, pounding of fists to chests.

“Glory to the Alpha Queen!”

“Daughter of Moon and Fire!”

“Breaker of Bloodlines!”

The titles rang through the hall like scripture, passed from warrior to warrior, reverberating in the bones of the mountain.

She lifted her chin. Cold. Beautiful. Unshakable.

Until they began to bring the spoils.

First came the weapons, blades laced in silver, taken from the enemy’s dead.

Then the armors, shattered chest plates, smeared with blood as proof of victory.

Next came the banners,ripped and scorched, the sigils of fallen houses dragged across the stone floor like defeated ghosts.

And finally, the prisoners.

Half a dozen rogues knelt in chains, heads bowed.

Her eyes passed over them like frost. 

Her court bowed again. The high war priest stepped forward, ancient and twisted, wrapped in ceremonial furs and bone jewelry. His voice echoed loud.

“The Queen returns triumphant. The land is blood-bound again. But there is still a shadow.”

Raya narrowed her gaze.

“Speak.”

He opened a scroll. “There are whispers of poison,seeping through water, through air. Not made by our kind. Something older. Something foreign. And some say… something called.”

The court murmured. Raya stilled them with a raised hand.

“Where?”

“In the western riverlands. Near the border you crossed, my Queen.”

Her stomach clenched.

Of course.

Of course.

She rose from the throne, robe rustling, descending the steps with quiet command. The war priest moved aside, revealing a low table set with a single item.

“What is that?” She asked…

“A little something we need to show you,” replied an elder.

A large picture was covered with a veil.

It glowed faintly blue.

“The water that is cursed,” he said. “This is all we could extract. The healers say the land resists cleansing.”

“And the antidote?” she asked.

The priest didn’t answer.

Riven stepped forward, gaze locked on her.

“There is one,” he said quietly. “But… you must see it yourself.”

Raya frowned. 

The veil was lifted,”what the…”

And then she saw it.

Not on the table.

Not in the room.

But in her mind.

The air rippled.

Her knees buckled.

Riven lunged to catch her, but the world was already fading.

She was standing in the woods again.

Naked.

Moonlight poured over her skin like liquid ice.

And he was there.

The rogue.

The man from the night.

He stood barefoot in the grass, surrounded by silver mist. His eyes glowed pale blue. His hair hung damp around his face. No scars this time. No blood.

Only a strange stillness.

She took a step toward him. Her breath steamed in the air.

“You shouldn’t be here,” she said.

“I never left you,” he replied, voice deep and echoing in the bones of the dream.

“You don’t belong to me.”

His lips curved into a soft, haunted smile. “Don’t I?”

She trembled. Her body remembered him. Her soul ached.

He stepped closer.

She felt it,the warmth rising again in her throat. The same mark. But now… it glowed.

He reached toward her.

She didn’t flinch.

When his fingers touched the spot just below her collarbone, her breath hitched. Her knees went weak. But then he vanished.

She was alone now,in a huge hole of darkness,every inch was quiet,she had no idea if she was standing or floating.

“You were meant to lead,” something whispered against her skin. “But something else is waking in you.”

She looked around and saw no one and the voice came again,like a motherly voice but laced with something dangerous.

“Welcome home, my love. Do what you must,I'm waiting.”

She gasped as a palm pressed flat against her chest,and suddenly a surge of heat slammed through her, too fast, too wild.

Light burst behind her eyes.

Everything vanished.

Raya's body hit the floor of the throne room, unconscious.

Gasps echoed across the court. Riven was at her side in a flash, cradling her head, shouting for the healers. The vial of blue poison shattered nearby, rolling across the stone.

And on her throat,hidden by silk but visible just for a moment,a mark glowed like silver fire beneath her skin.