LOGIN“Why don’t you give your son some credit?” Lucian asked. “After all, he was wise enough to align himself with the right side in the end.”Kane's look of panic turned to that of pure anger. “You little traitor,” he growled. “How could you turn on your own family?”“I warned you that you were going to
[Violet’s POV]I had no idea what came over me.One moment I was safe and secure in Lucian’s arms and the next I was crossing the room to punch Kane Venmer straight in the face.Everyone watched in total awe and shock as I practically knocked the older man to the ground. But I didn’t care. I was fed
I snapped my head to the side and stared daggers at Kane.“You fucking touched her!” I snarled. A strong arm curled around my shoulder. Had it not been for Dmitrius holding me back, I would have surely killed Kane.“Easy,” Dmitrius muttered. “Lucian. Come back to yourself, cousin.”I gruffed and
[Kane’s POV]How could I have made such an appalling miscalculation??I’d sent for Silas’ presence on the grounds that my deal with Burmstone could once again take place. He’d demanded I offer something of better value and I had gone out of my way to ensure such a thing was possible.The fated mate
[Violet’s POV]I tried to hide my growing fear behind my carefully curated mask of indifference.But with every step this vampire took to get closer to me, the stronger my heart was fighting to break through my chest.Silas kept a firm eye on me as he began to circle around the chair I was still bou
[Lucian’s POV]I felt awful.No, ‘awful’ wasn’t the word I was searching for...Desolate...Tormented...Mournful...Agonized...My Gods, the list was endless. But above all else, I could easily say that I was heartbroken. And I had no one to blame but myself.I shouldn’t have kept all of this from Vio
(Violet’s POV) They stood when I entered.Not out of respect or fear but out of awareness. The kind that settles into the bone when a room realizes the air has changed—when every whispered theory, every hushed debate, every what-if and no-she-wouldn’t finally walks through the doors wearing real s
I lifted the bundle and tipped it into the river. The ash fell in uneven strands, scattering across the surface before the water pulled it down—into the silt, into the memory, into the deep.The wind shifted, brushing against my cheek like something ancient exhaling through the trees. I didn’t whisp
(Violet’s POV)They didn’t riot.Not in the way commoners might, with fists and torches and shattered glass. Nobles unravel differently. Their violence is measured. Polished. Drenched in silk and scent and disbelief sharp enough to draw blood.The first wave came in the form of murmurs—too loud to b
(Violet’s POV)The room didn’t shift at first.When the bailiff stepped forward and murmured something to the lead Justicar, no one leaned forward. No one held their breath. They were too well-trained for that.But when the Justicar’s gavel struck again, short and unplanned, the quiet that followed







