Blood Message.

The castle was quiet as I made my way through the corridors, the echoes of my footsteps the only sound breaking the silence. My body ached from the day’s training, but the exhaustion was a welcome reminder of how far I’d come. Marcus’s words still echoed in my mind, a steady rhythm that kept me moving forward. You’re stronger than you think. For the first time, I was starting to believe it.

I paused outside the door to Alejandro’s study, my hand hovering over the handle. The faint glow of candlelight spilled from beneath the door, and I could hear the soft murmur of voices. One voice was Alejandro’s, deep and steady. The other was lighter, smoother—Clarice’s.

My stomach tightened, and I hesitated, unsure whether to interrupt. But the thought of leaving them alone together made my chest ache in a way I couldn’t ignore. I knocked softly.

“Come in,” Alejandro called.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The room was warm, the fire in the furnace was flickering, casting shadows across the walls. Alejandro sat at his desk, his brows were furrowed as he studied a stack of letters. Clarice stood a respectful distance away, her posture was elegant and poised, her hands neatly in front of her. She looked up as I entered, her lips curving into a polite smile. Alejandro was surprised to see me. “Yolanda, his voice high and steady, “this is quite a surprise, aren’t you exhausted from training?” “No my love” the room immediately fell silent again. Alejandro’s heart jumped and I was also shocked because it was the first time had called him “my love” he giggled and he sounded so cute.

“Yolanda,” she said, her voice smooth and measured, she interrupted “Good evening.”

“Clarice,” I replied, my eyes flicked to Alejandro, who gave me a small, reassuring smile.

“Yolanda,” he said, his tone warm but slightly distracted. “I was just finishing up with Clarice. She brought some reports from the northern territories.”

“I thought it best to deliver them personally,” Clarice added, her tone almost too innocent. “Given their… sensitivity.”

I forced a smile, though my unease grew. Clarice had always been careful, always playing the part of the perfect ally and there was always an eerie feeling anytime she was present and I’m sure Alejandro could feel it too. My mind flashed back to an encounter weeks ago, in the castle gardens. I had stumbled upon her there, I had thought much of it at the time, but now, standing here, the memory gnawed at me again.

“Well, I won’t keep you any longer,” Clarice said, her voice pulling me back to the present. She turned to Alejandro, her smile softening just enough to be noticeable. “Thank you for your time, Your Majesty. I’ll leave these reports with you.”

Alejandro nodded, his expression polite but distant. “Thank you, Clarice. Your insights are, as always, appreciated.”

She inclined her head gracefully, then turned to leave. “Goodnight, Yolanda,” she said softly. “Do take care of yourself. You’ve been looking… rather tired lately.”

The words were innocuous, but the way she said them made my skin crawl. I forced a nod, watching as she left the room, her presence lingering like a shadow even after she was gone.

Alejandro sighed, leaning back in his chair. “She’s… thorough,” he said, his tone carefully neutral.

“You don’t trust her,” I said, more a statement than a question.

He hesitated, his gaze shifting to the door as if to ensure Clarice was truly gone. “I trust her information,” he said finally. “When it’s verifiable. But Clarice…I don’t let my guard down around her.”

I felt relief at his words, though the unease in my chest remained. “She makes me uncomfortable,” I admitted. “And I’ve got her on my mind Alejandro.”

Alejandro’s expression softened, and he reached out, taking my hand in his. “You’re not wrong to be cautious,” he said gently. “Clarice is clever, and she has her own agenda. But as long as we’re careful, she can’t do any real harm.”

I nodded, though the memory of her in the garden still nagged at me. “What if she’s more dangerous than we realize?” I asked quietly. “What if she’s playing a deeper game?”

Alejandro’s grip on my hand tightened, his gaze steady. “Then we’ll be ready,” he said firmly. “But for now, we focus on what we know. Clarice may be cunning, but she’s not invincible.”

His words were reassuring, but as I left the study and made my way back to my chambers.

Meanwhile, back at the northern fortress was a place of nightmares. Its walls were black, almost as if they were blackened by fire and they were stained with blood, and the air smelled like death. Deep inside was a room lit by torches, Lucian sat on his throne. It wasn’t a throne of gold or jewels, it was horrifying and jagged, made of twisted metal and bones, like something ripped from the depths of hell.

Lucian leaned forward, his eyes glowing like hot coals. His face was like Alejandro’s, but twisted, sharp, cruel, and full of hate. His dark hair hung wildly around his face, and his lips were curled into a snarl. The messenger kneeling before him was shaking so hard he could barely utter a word.

“M-my lord,” the man stammered, holding out a blood-soaked piece of parchment. “A message… from your brother.”

Lucian’s hand shot out, claws slicing through the air as he snatched the parchment. His claws were long, black, and sharp, like a beast’s. He unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words carved into the dead assassin’s chest: “This is what happens to those who betray me.”

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Lucian’s growl started low, deep in his chest, and built into a roar that shook the walls. The torches shut off then the room became slightly dark, and the messenger flinched, his face pressed to the floor.

“Alejandro,” Lucian snarled, his voice like gravel and fire. “He thinks he can mock me? He thinks he can defy me?”

Lucian stood, his massive frame towering over the room. His muscles rippled under his skin, and his claws became sharper, scraping against each other with a sound that made the messenger’s blood run cold. Lucian’s eyes burned brighter, and his face twisted as his wolf surged forward. His bones cracked, his body shifting into something monstrous, half man, half beast, all killer.

The messenger whimpered, his body trembling as Lucian turned those glowing red eyes on him. “You,” Lucian said, his voice a low, deadly rumble. “You’ll deliver a message to my brother. Tell him I’m coming. Tell him I’ll take everything from him, his throne, his mate, his life. And when I get there, I’ll make sure he watches as I destroy it all.”

The messenger nodded frantically, his voice choked with fear. “Y-yes, my lord. I’ll tell him.”

Lucian’s lips curled into a cruel smile, and he stepped closer, his claws glinting in the torchlight. “Good,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “But first… a reminder.”

Before the messenger could move, Lucian’s claws slashed through the air. The man didn’t even have time to scream before he fell, his body crumbling to the floor. Lucian stood over him, his chest heaving, his claws dripping with blood. He turned to the shadows, where his followers waited, their eyes gleaming with hunger.

“Get out,” Lucian growled, his voice like thunder. “All of you. Now.”

They didn’t hesitate. They scrambled to obey, leaving Lucian alone in the throne room with the body at his feet. He stared down at it, his breath heaving in ragged growls, his claws twitching as if they still craved more blood. The rage inside him was a living thing, a beast that couldn’t be tamed.

“Alejandro,” Lucian whispered, his voice a chilling promise. “You think you’ve won? You think you’re safe? I’ll make you regret the day you crossed me. I’ll make you beg for death before I’m done.”

He turned back to his throne, his hybrid form shrinking back into his human shape. But the rage in his eyes didn’t fade. It burned brighter and hotter, like a fire that wouldn’t stop until everything was ash.