Rian’s POV The second night came without sleep. Not because I didn’t want to rest—but because my mind wouldn’t let me. The cell was colder tonight, as if the stones themselves had learned how to siphon heat. My skin was raw from the chains, my wrists rubbed raw and sore, but I welcomed the pain. It kept me alert. Awake. Here. Because if I let myself drift—if I allowed the haze to pull me down—I’d see it all again. The fire. The screaming. Darius on his knees in a sea of flame, reaching for me with melting skin and blackened eyes. And I froze. Powerless. Dying inside before death even reached me. They weren’t dreams. The Seer said so. Visions. Of what could be. Or what would be if I didn’t stop it. I sat in the silence, legs curled beneath me, chains taut but not tight enough to crush. My back rested against the damp stone wall, and I counted heartbeats in the stillness. Thirty. Sixty. Ninety. Still alive. Still mine. The floor beneath me pulsed. I
Rian’s POV I woke up on cold stone. My whole body ached. My wrists were cuffed, and the metal burned just enough to make sure I didn’t forget it. The air smelled like old blood, mildew, and something sharp—magic, maybe. Whatever they’d used to bind me, it was working. I could feel my power, but I couldn’t reach it. Like it was locked behind glass. I tried to move. My head spun. Where the hell was I? A heavy door creaked open. I didn’t even bother lifting my head. I already knew who it was. “Elion,” I muttered. His footsteps echoed. Slow. Like he had all the time in the world. “I’m glad you’re awake,” he said, voice smooth and way too calm for someone who had me chained up like an animal. “You and I have a lot to discuss.” I forced myself up, back against the wall, legs weak. I probably looked like hell. Didn’t matter. I met his eyes anyway. “You won’t win,” I said. “Whatever this is, it ends with me walking out of here. Or burning it all down.” He tilted his head
DARIUS POV The cell door slammed behind me, but I barely heard it.Toran’s words still rang in my skull like poison bells, each one hammering my veins with ice and fire.“She’s a gate.”“They’ll bleed her dry trying to open it.”“You won’t reach her in time.”I couldn’t breathe. Not properly. Not like before. Not since I found her bed empty, her scent torn by strange leather and magic. Not since I caught the stench of betrayal leading me straight to my own Beta—my brother in arms—who had given her away like she was nothing.She was everything.And they took her.Rage flared inside me hotter than any flame my bloodline could summon. My hands itched to tear walls apart, to snap bones, to claim vengeance with every heartbeat. I’d hunted half the castle already, interrogating guards, ransacking every shadowed corridor. Salt trails, magic wards, whispers in the dark—they all screamed her name, and I followed them like a beast, forgetting what it meant to be careful. I was a king, and I wa
Toran POV They had me in chains. Good. Let them believe they’d caught the villain. Let them think this was justice. They didn’t realize this was part of the plan. Darius’s dungeon was colder than I remembered. Damp stone, rusted iron, the faint scent of mold and forgotten blood. I’d sent men here myself. Criminals. Spies. Dissidents. Traitors. Now I sat in their place. The irony tasted sweet on my tongue. The guards had beaten me, hoping for answers. But they didn’t understand me. No one did. Not really. Not Darius. Not his precious little council. Certainly not Rian, the half-blood princess who stole his reason. They all thought I served the crown. But I didn’t. I served myself. From the moment I stepped into the court, I knew the truth — I was smarter than them. Sharper. Hungrier. Darius had been handed power like it was a birthright, and he wore it like a burden. He never had the stomach for rulership. He wanted to guide, to inspire. I wanted to rule. I wa
Rian’s POV Pain came first. A low throb at the base of my skull, blooming behind my eyes like a dark flower. My limbs felt heavy, cold, not my own. The air was damp, stale, laced with mildew and something metallic. Blood. I blinked slowly, the world tilting sideways. I was lying on stone. Chains rattled when I shifted, iron cuffs biting into my wrists and ankles. My throat felt raw, my mouth dry. I wasn’t alone. The torchlight was dim, flickering from the far end of the chamber. A long room—stone walls, no windows. A single iron door. And in the corner, a figure sat in shadow, watching. “Welcome back,” a voice said. Male. Smooth. Familiar in the worst way. I tried to sit up. The chains resisted. “Where… am I?” “Somewhere beneath the eastern cliffs,” the man replied. “An old prison. One the wolves forgot.” I squinted at him. Recognition bloomed slow and cruel. Lord Elion. “You,” I whispered. “You remember me.” He stood, stepping into the torchlight. His f
Darius POV She was late. Not by much—twenty minutes, maybe. But Rian wasn’t the kind of woman who lost track of time, especially not after the week we’d had. She’d promised to speak to Avery before moving her things into my wing. She was laughing when she left. Light in a way I hadn’t seen her in days. Now that laughter echoed in my mind like a knife being slowly drawn across stone. I waited another five minutes. Then I moved. The corridor outside my chambers was quiet. My guards straightened at my approach, offering small bows. “Have you seen Rian?” I asked. They exchanged glances. “She passed through heading toward Lady Avery’s quarters about half an hour ago.” “And after?” A beat of silence. Too long. “No, my king.” My throat went tight. I nodded, turned, and walked—fast. By the time I reached Avery’s wing, the anxiety had turned acidic in my stomach. Mira opened the door, hair damp from a bath, wrapped in a robe. “Where’s Rian?” I asked, voice sharper