(Almira’s POV)I blinked, still trying to steady my breath. The twins had really outdone themselves this time, but there was no hiding the smile tugging at my lips. As much as I wanted to be angry at them for playing with my emotions, a part of me couldn’t help but admire their creativity. And then there was Lysander, standing before me with that damnable smirk on his face. His presence was enough to make my heart skip a beat, even after everything we’d been through.“You did this?” I asked, the question slipping out before I could stop myself. My hands trembled slightly, still too wound up from the adrenaline rush of the moment.Lysander tilted his head, an innocent look on his face that didn't match the misncing in his eyes. “Did what?”“You tricked me, didn’t you?” I couldn’t keep the smile from forming on my face, despite my best efforts to stay serious.Lysander chuckled, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down my spine. “Oh, I had some help, but yes. It was all part of my
(Rich’s POV)The forest felt suffocating in its stillness, as if the trees themselves were holding their breath, waiting. I don’t know why I’d come out this far—maybe it was the weight of everything pressing on me, or maybe I just needed to get away from the ever-present tension back at the estate. I thought I was alone, just me and my thoughts, but the sudden shift in the air told me otherwise. Something was off.Then I heard it—the unmistakable growl of a rogue, low and hungry. Before I could even react, a massive form lunged at me from the shadows, its eyes gleaming with madness. Its claws slashed at the air, and for a split second, I was sure I was dead.But then—just as quickly—it was gone. A blur of motion, a shadow crashing into the rogue, knocking it to the ground.Lysander.He moved like lightning, a sleek black figure against the night. His claws ripped through the rogue with brutal precision, each strike more savage than the last. The rogue snarled in pain, but it was no us
(Almira's POB)As Rich’s car faded into the distance, swallowed by the treeline and silence, I stood there for a long moment, holding my twins as if I could physically shield them from what I now knew was coming. The sun, once bright and warm above us, now felt dull, muted by the chill that had taken root in my chest.Lysander’s hand lingered on my back, his touch trembling ever so slightly. I could feel the turmoil in him—the conflict between the man who had tried to build a future with me, and the ghost of a prince raised by a legacy of blood and betrayal. I knew that look in his eyes. He wasn’t just worried.He was afraid.“I should have seen it coming,” I muttered, brushing Hazel’s hair back from her face. “He didn’t just find us by chance. Someone told him where to look.”Lysander finally tore his gaze from the horizon, his jaw tight. “Someone wants him to find us. And if Rich is involved, we’re not dealing with just power plays anymore. He plays a different game. Long moves. Qui
(Almira’s POV)The wind was gentle today, the air thick with the scent of pine and sunshine. I took the twins to a nearby playground nestled in the outskirts of the village, where human children often laughed and played. Asher and Hazel ran ahead, their gleeful squeals piercing the air like music. For a brief moment, I let myself believe that we were safe—that we were normal.It had been weeks since I clawed my way out of the nightmare of their abduction. Weeks of unanswered questions, sleepless nights, and the echo of masked men dragging my children away. I still woke up drenched in sweat, expecting to hear their cries. But today, they smiled. They laughed. And that was enough.Until a shadow slid across the sunlit glade.The hum of an engine broke the fragile silence. A sleek black car—too polished, too deliberate—glided to a halt beneath the ancient oak that stood like a sentry at the edge of the playground. My blood froze. That car didn’t belong here. Not in this peaceful place.T
(Almira’s POV)The healers said he wouldn’t wake up for a few more days—if at all.But that didn’t stop me from sitting beside him every hour, barely blinking.Lysander lay still on the white stone bed, his chest rising and falling with shallow breaths. His body had been torn apart—burned, slashed, cursed—and still, he had shielded me. Thrown himself into the blast radius of a dark witch’s spell with nothing but his body as a shield.It should’ve killed him.It almost did.I sat on the edge of the cot, my hand over his. I had changed the bandages myself. Cleaned the blood from his face. Whispered his name like a prayer while the healers worked in silence. And when they had all given up, it was my tears—my grief—that had triggered the magic that saved him.The Sunstone had bloomed from within me like wildfire, but it wasn’t destruction this time. It was healing.I
(Almira’s POV)The battle was over. The blood had been washed from the Citadel steps, the bodies taken care of, and the fires finally put out. But no one could sweep away what we all felt in our bones—that the world had changed.That I had changed.I walked slowly through the corridor, my limbs heavier than they’d ever been. The Citadel’s stone walls hummed softly with protective enchantments, but my magic—whatever I had unlocked when Lysander fell—was still pulsing faintly under my skin. Warm, golden, aching.I had killed them all.The witches. The corrupted werewolves with blue marks who’d screamed as they disintegrated beneath the blinding burst of light I’d poured out of my body.I remembered screaming Lysander’s name as I held him—his blood coating my hands, his heart slowing beneath my palms.And then…I remembered the Sunstone inside me cracking open like
(Almira’s POV)The battlefield stank of death.Flesh, smoke, burned fur, and bitter magic hung in the air, choking us with every breath. Screams pierced the thick fog, flashes of light erupted from witchfire bolts—red and violet streaks cutting through the forest like falling stars.I barely saw it—just a blur of blue and gold, then a body soaring through the air.“LYSANDER!”I ran. Fast. Too fast.My feet barely touched the ground as I pushed through tangled roots and flaming debris. Trees snapped like twigs under rogue bodies, and more witches dropped from the skies, their wings stitched with corrupted sigils. This wasn’t a battle anymore. It was an execution. A massacre.And at the heart of it all… lay him.His body sprawled against a tree, blood soaking through his chest—so much of it, too red, too fast. Witchbane.I crashed beside him, knees buckling, the world spinning around me.“No,” I gasped, shaking him. “Lysander, no, no, no…”His breathing was shallow, barely a whisper. Bl
(Almira’s POV)The night had been quiet. Too quiet.Lysander had just brushed my knuckles with his, his voice low and warm, when I heard the shift in the air. It was subtle at first. A sudden chill. The woods around the private hot spring went still—no breeze, no crickets, no life.Then came the snap.A surge of magic ripped through the trees and cracked into the earth like a bolt from a storm. The water behind us erupted into steam, scalding and thick, just as Lysander grabbed my waist and pulled me down.*Boom!*The ground where we’d been seconds ago exploded. Fire licked at the edges of the moss-covered rocks.“What the hell?” I hiss, rolling up to my knees. My eyes dart to the shadows moving fast between the trees—hooded figures, hands glowing with blood-red light.Witches.Lysander’s face hardens as he shields me with one arm. “They’ve found us.”Another blast tears through the air, and Lysander growls, the sound guttural and furious. He shifts halfway, claws erupting from his ha
(ALMIRA’S POV)I knew something was off the moment I walked into the garden.There were candles. Candles and flower petals and a blanket set out beneath the peach tree. The same tree where Asher and Hazel used to build their stick forts. Now it looked like a page outNow it looked like a page out of some fairytale I’d never believed in. A small table stood nearby with food—warm, freshly cooked food—and two glasses of sparkling elderflower wine. And there, sitting under the tree with sleeves rolled up and a nervous smile on his lips, was Lysander.“What… is all this?” I asked, raising a brow as I stopped at the edge of the scene.Lysander stood, brushing off his pants, suddenly looking like the awkward boy next door and not the powerful Alpha of one of the most formidable packs in the region. “It was their idea,” he admitted, nodding toward the house. “The kids said you’ve been too serious lately. They thought… maybe you deserved a break.”I blinked, stunned. “You let them set this up?