Chapter 57: The Siege of Blackwood

The journey back to the Blackwood territories should have been a victory march. We had the cure. We had survived the fall of a god. But as we reached the iron gates of our home, the air didn't smell like pine and safety.

It smelled like betrayal and silver-smoke.

The grand banners of the Blackwood Pack—the silver wolf on a field of midnight—had been torn down. In their place hung the cold, sterile flag of the Lycan Council.

"Silas," Killian growled, his hand gripping the steering wheel of the rugged SUV so hard the leather cracked. His body was still covered in bandages from the Solar Spire, but his eyes were burning with a lethal, golden hunger.

"They moved fast," Mord whispered from the backseat, his hand resting on his rusted blade. "They didn't wait for the news of Solas’s survival. They assumed you died in the collapse and declared the Forbidden Wing an 'unstable zone'."

We rounded the final bend, and the palace came into view. It was surrounded. Hundreds of Council Enforcers in silver armor were stationed at every entrance.

"Look, Mommy," Lucian whispered, pointing at the balcony of our private quarters.

Silas, the High Elder, was standing there, looking down at the pack as if he already owned it. Beside him stood a woman I didn't recognize—a sleek, dangerous-looking wolf with eyes like frozen ice.

"That's Beatrix," Killian’s voice was a low, vibrating snarl. "My cousin. The one the Council always wanted on the throne instead of me."

"They think you're a traitor, Daddy," Nyx said. She was sitting perfectly still, her violet eyes fixed on the silver-clad guards. "They're telling the pack that you destroyed the Sun Temple to hide your 'demon daughter'."

Killian slammed the car into park and stepped out. He didn't hide his scent. He let his Alpha aura explode, a shockwave of silver and gold that sent the nearest guards stumbling back in terror.

"SILAS!" Killian’s voice echoed off the mountain peaks. "GET OFF MY BALCONY!"

Silas leaned over the railing, a smug, oily smile on his face. "Alpha Killian. Or should I say... Rogue Killian? You were witnessed destroying the Solar Spire and murdering a fellow King. By decree of the High Tribunal, your title is stripped, and your mate and offspring are to be taken into custody for the safety of the realm."

"You'll have to kill me first," Killian said, his claws extending.

"That's the plan," Silas sneered. He waved a hand. "Enforcers! The Alpha has returned in a corrupted state. Subdue him. Kill the Vessel if you must, but bring me the children!"

Dozens of silver-tipped spears leveled at us. The Council wolves began to shift, their bones cracking and fur sprouting as they prepared for a massacre.

I stepped forward, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with my husband. My brown eyes flared with a sudden, sharp violet spark—a remnant of the Tear of the Sun's energy merged with my Void-Mark.

"Killian, you take the front," I said, my voice resonating with a new, quiet authority. "I'll handle the back."

"Elena, you're human again, you can't—" Killian began, but he stopped when he saw the ground beneath my feet.

The shadows weren't just moving; they were standing up. Even without the intense pressure of the Sun Temple, my connection to the Abyss had evolved. I wasn't just a vessel anymore. I was the Commander.

"I'm not just human, Killian," I whispered, the black rune on my chest glowing with a balanced, serene power. "I'm a Blackwood. And no one takes my home."

Nyx stood up beside me, her small hand clutching mine. "Can I help, Mommy?"

"Don't hold back, shadow," I said.

Nyx smiled—a tiny, terrifying expression. She let go of her teddy bear.

"Okay."

In an instant, the shadows of the palace itself turned against the invaders. The coup was about to become a slaughter.