Chapter 55

Elouera

The sound of a sword cutting through the silence was louder than thunder.

In the next second, Callan’s heavy, armored body was suddenly pulled away from me. I scrambled backward across the bed until my back hit the cold iron headboard. My hands quickly pulled the torn fabric of my nightshirt over my chest as I struggled to catch my breath. I was shaking with fear, and all I could smell was cold sweat, lavender medicine, and the sharp scent of my own fear.

On the stone floor beside the bed stood Commander Jace Corowa, his powerful body casting a dark shadow.

Jace moved so quickly and quietly that it was almost frightening. He didn’t simply push Callan away. He attacked him with the speed and strength of a wolf going in for the kill.

His left arm was locked around Callan’s neck, holding the Crown Prince tightly against his chest. In his right hand, he held his Vanguard short sword, its dark blade pressed against Callan’s throat. The sharp edge had already cut into his skin, leaving a thin red line of blood that trickled down onto the silver crest on his tunic.

Jace’s chest rose and fell slowly, but there was something dangerous about the way he held himself. His face was hard, and his jaw was clenched so tightly that it looked as if his bones might break.

But it was his eyes that truly frightened me.

They were completely black. The hazel color I knew had disappeared, replaced by the wild, dark eyes of an Alpha whose mate had just been threatened.

A deep growl came from his chest. It was so fierce and unnatural that it seemed to make even the heavy wooden floor tremble.

Callan’s sword fell from his hand and hit the rug.

The Crown Prince struggled desperately, grabbing at Jace’s arm in a useless attempt to free himself. His eyes, red around the edges, were wide with shock and anger. But beneath it all, I could see the fear beginning to take over.

“Move even a little,” Jace growled into Callan’s ear. His voice was rough and terrifying. “And I’ll cut your head off before your body even touches the floor.”

“Jace, no!” I cried out, my voice breaking as it echoed through the dark room.

But the sword didn’t move, and Jace didn’t even look at me. His black eyes remained fixed on Callan’s throat. Every muscle in his body was tense, ready to kill the Crown Prince and cover the bedroom walls with royal blood.

In that terrifying moment, I stared at the most dangerous executioner in New Avalon, holding the heir to the empire at swordpoint.

And suddenly, I understood something that sent a chill through me.

Jace wasn’t listening to the Crown Prince. He wasn’t thinking about his oath to the Vanguard. He wasn’t even using his own judgment anymore.

Something inside him had taken control, and nothing—not even the royal family seemed capable of stopping him.

He was listening to me.

The mate bond I felt in my chest was more than a connection between us or a feeling of warmth. It was like a golden chain that tied him to me, controlling his heart, his instincts, and even his sword. Jace Corowa, the most dangerous Alpha from the outer colonies, the man who had terrified Vanguard cadets for three years, was now completely controlled by the golden mark on my neck.

If I ordered him to kill the Crown Prince, he would do it without hesitation. If I told him to burn the entire capital to the ground, he would be the one to light the fire.

The power I had over him felt amazing, but it also terrified me.

“Commander,” I ordered quietly.

My voice was calm but sharp enough to cut through the strong Alpha scent filling the room.

I swung my legs off the bed and stood up. The cold floor sent a chill through my bare feet, and my knees were still shaking, but I forced myself to stand straight.

“Stand down.”

Jace’s shoulders stiffened immediately.

For two painful seconds, the wild Alpha inside him fought against my command. Through our bond, I could feel his struggle. Every instinct in him wanted to kill the man who had hurt his mate, but the bond was also forcing him to obey me.

His grip tightened around the leather handle of his sword until his knuckles turned white.

“Elouera…” Jace growled. His voice sounded strained, almost like he was begging me to understand his pain.

“I said, stand down,” I repeated.

I stepped directly in front of him, holding the torn fabric of my nightshirt against my chest. I allowed the full force of my authority to pass through our bond.

“Put down your sword, Jace. That’s an order.”

Slowly, painfully, the darkness in his eyes began to fade. His original hazel eyes returned, though they still looked troubled and full of pain.

He released a rough breath, as if he had been fighting for control of himself. Then he carefully pulled his sword away from Callan’s throat and took exactly three steps backward.

He lowered his head, returning to the same quiet, obedient position he had taken beside my bed hours earlier.

Callan stumbled forward and fell onto his hands and knees on the rug. He grabbed his bleeding throat, coughing and struggling to breathe.

“You…” he managed to say.

He coughed up blood, then stared at me with wild eyes. His gaze moved between my bare collarbones and Jace, who stood silently behind me.

“You marked her…” he rasped. “You filthy outer-colony bastard!”

A cold, mocking laugh came from the dark shadows beside the heavy velvet curtains.

“Oh, what a wonderful family reunion,” Archduke Holden said softly.

He stepped out of the shadows and into the pale moonlight.

He held his mechanical brass cane loosely in his left hand. In his right was a heavy brass vial with a glass top. Inside it, a thick, glowing silver mist swirled around. The vial gave off a strange, low humming sound.

My blood turned cold.

Catalyst-7.

The pure, concentrated vapor.

“You see, Callan,” Holden whispered, his dark eyes shining with a frightening kind of excitement as he looked at the three of us trapped in the room, “your little brother was never meant to sit on the throne. She was created to be the spark that burns this entire corrupt family to the ground.”

He raised his thumb and placed it directly over the glass seal on the vial, ready to break it.

“And now,” my uncle said with a smooth smile, “midnight has finally arrived.”