MasukI woke with a jolt, heart hammering against my ribs, the phantom echo of Sera’s voice still slithering through my thoughts. ‘You are Amala Luna Velasco, and your hands will be stained with the blood of the King.’ The words had followed me into sleep, twisted my dreams into nightmares, and now greeted me in the grey light of dawn. My sheets were damp with sweat, Lukas’s side of the bed already empty. I pressed the heels of my hands against my e
I woke to cold sheets and the particular silence of an empty room. My hand found the space beside me before my eyes opened, palm pressing into the mattress where Amelia should have been, and for one terrible moment the fear was back, cold and certain. Then I remembered: she was awake. She was healing. She was mine.She stood by the wardrobe, already dressed in trousers and a loose sweater that swallowed her frame, running a brush through her copper hair with hands that still trembled slightly. The morning light caught the angles of her face, hollows where there should have been curves, and something in my chest twisted at the sight.“You’re supposed to be in bed,” I said, pushing myself upright. My voice came out rougher than I’d intended.Amelia didn’t look at me. “We won’t find Sera if I’m stuck in bed, Lukas.”I swung my legs over the edge of the mattress, feeling every hour of missed sleep in the stiffness of my shoulders. “Elara said—”“I know what Elara said.” She set the brush
I kept my arm around Amelia’s waist as we walked back to our bedroom, feeling the particular lightness of her body against mine with a protectiveness that bordered on possessiveness. Five days in a medical bed had left her thinner than she should have been, the curves I’d memorised with my hands reduced to angles that made something in my chest ache. She leaned into me more than she normally would, her steps careful but steady, and I matched my pace to hers without comment.The corridors of the palace were quieter than they should have been at this hour, most of the staff still confined to quarters after the Voice’s attack. The few guards we passed snapped to attention, their expressions carefully neutral though I caught the relief in their eyes at the sight of their queen walking under her own power. News traveled fast. By now, everyone would know Amelia was awake, was recovering, was—against all odds—still herself.
I woke to the sound of Lukas’s voice, low and controlled in the way that meant he was keeping a leash on his temper. My eyes stayed closed out of habit more than necessity—years of servant life had taught me the value of listening before being seen—and the medical wing resolved around me through sound alone: the steady beeping of monitors, the soft rustle of fabric, Dominic’s gravel voice answering Lukas with the particular precision of a man delivering bad news.“The rogue isn’t talking to me or Nico,” Dominic was saying, each word clipped with frustration. “Whatever Sera did to him, it left enough of him intact to recognise an enforcer when he sees one. He clams up the moment either of us enters the room.”Lukas made a sound that wasn’t quite a growl. “We need answers, Dominic. The blood moon…”“I’m aware of the timeline, my King.”I opened my eyes and stretched my neck, feeling the pop of vertebrae tha
The water hit my back like a physical blow, too hot by any reasonable standard but exactly what my exhausted body needed. I braced my forearms against the shower wall and let my head hang between my shoulders, water sluicing down my spine in sheets that turned the bathroom into a steam-filled cavern. Four days without proper sleep had left me running on something beyond exhaustion, a hollow, buzzing alertness that made every sensation too sharp and every thought too slow.I’d been standing there for—minutes? longer?—when Lily’s presence brushed against my mind. Not words. Just images, pushed through our tenuous connection with the particular lack of finesse that was pure Lily: Amelia, awake, propped against her pillows with one wrist still cuffed to the bed rail but the other free, a glass of water balanced carefully in her freed hand. She was rolling her eyes at something I couldn’t see, her copper hair falling around a face that had colou
Sleep pulled at me like a tide, dragging me under then releasing just enough to let me taste the surface before dragging me down again. My body felt wrong, heavy in a way that had nothing to do with exhaustion and everything to do with the poison still working its way out of my system. Each time I surfaced, the world resolved a little more sharply, the beeping of the heart monitor a constant I’d learned to track through the fog.The last time I’d woken, Lukas had been there. Now the chair beside my bed was empty, but the imprint of his weight remained in the cushions, the scent of him clinging to the air like a promise.I reached for Athena without opening my eyes, testing the bond between us the way I might test a bruise. For days—or had it been weeks?—the connection had been thin, frayed at the edges, the familiar copper warmth of her presence reduced to the barest flicker. But this time, when I reached, something solid met me.She was there, coiled in the depths of our shared consc
The drugs held me beneath the surface, a current I couldn’t fight no matter how hard I kicked. Sera’s poison lingered in my veins like winter frost, numbing everything from the inside out. I could feel Lukas’s hand on mine – warm, solid, real – but reaching him meant swimming through layers of something thick and cold that pressed against my consciousness from all sides. My body existed somewhere distant, separate from the part of me that was still trying to surface. Voices drifted through the haze, none of them clear enough to catch. The steady beeping of machines, the rustle of fabric, a low murmur that might have been Lukas speaking. I tried to focus on his voice, to use it as an anchor, but the drugs kept pulling me under. Sera’s presence had left stains on my mind, cold fingerprints I couldn’t scrub away no matter how hard I tried. In the deepest part of my consciousness, where the human mind met wolf instinct, Athena paced. Her copper form was dim
The door closed with a soft click, leaving me alone with the copper-haired girl who fate had cruelly designated as my mate. She sat across from me, her shoulders hunched beneath the woolen blanket, though her eyes never left mine. The mate bond pulsed between us, new and raw, a connection neither o
I dreamed of warmth and safety, of copper fur and freedom beneath a vast sky. Then reality crashed over me—literally—as ice water drenched my body, shocking me from unconsciousness with brutal efficiency. I gasped, choking as the freezing deluge filled my mouth and nostrils, my body convulsing agai
I sat motionless upon the ancient throne, carved from the heartwood of the first tree that grew in these lands, if the legends were to be believed. My back never touched its support—a king does not rest during judgment. Below me, the throne room hummed with the barely restrained excitement of the a
Cold shocked me awake, water cascading over my head and down my body in an icy deluge. I gasped, choking as some found its way into my lungs, my body convulsing with the sudden, violent awakening. Through streaming eyes, I made out the blurry figures of guards outside the cell, one still holding th







