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Beyond the Gates
Last Updated:
2025-12-15 08:02:40
Angel ColeThis chapter is a real turning point—all about belonging, not fighting. The ancestral palace isn't just a place; it's a promise. A place where family history matters, where power comes before politics, and where Talia finally becomes who she's always meant to be. I wanted to savor this moment—let the awe, closeness, and calm certainty shine before the storm hits again. A safe place can be just as dangerous as war when you're still trying to trust each other.
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Lucian POVBy the time dawn came, the snow had stopped falling.The world outside glowed a pale gold, a fragile light that could make even ruin look holy. Lucian stood on the palace balcony, hands braced against the stone rail, eyes fixed on the horizon.He’d been awake all night, searching through the mate bond, tracing every flicker of warmth, every echo that wasn’t pain. And somewhere in the quiet hours before sunrise, it happened.A pulse.Not of fear.Not of grief.But something else—something soft, bright, and alive.It spread through the link like sunlight breaking through storm clouds, wrapping around him before he could even catch his breath: warmth, laughter, the sound of a woman humming softly by a fire.Talia.He could feel her. Not in words, not even in thoughts—but in feeling. The bond pulsed with gentle joy, lightness, peace.For the first time in months, he smiled.The wind shifted across the balcony, cold against his face. It couldn’t touch the warmth in his chest. He
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Talia POVBy the second night, the storm had broken into silence.The air hung heavy and still, snow glittering under a waning moon. The horse, Alder, walked slowly and tired, every exhale puffing white against the cold. When the outline of a cabin appeared through the trees—a dark, sagging shape half-buried in frost—Talia almost thought she’d imagined it.But it was real.The old structure leaned against the hillside as if it were trying to disappear into it. The windows were broken, and the door hung off one hinge, but the roof held. Shelter.She dismounted, legs shaking from exhaustion, and led Alder under the small overhang beside the cabin. “You rest here,” she whispered, patting his neck. “I’ll find us something dry.”Inside, the air was thick with dust and old wood. Her breath misted in front of her face. A few broken chairs lay scattered, and a stone hearth sat cold and empty in the corner. But it was four walls and a roof—and for the first time in days, she wasn’t being hunte
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Snow still fell, but thinner now, the wind easing just enough to let scent through.Ash.Blood.Burned fur.Talia slowed Alder instinctively. Kaela stirred beneath her skin—not loud, not demanding, but alert. Watchful. Her wolf had been unusually quiet since Talia left the mountain house. Not sulking. Not petulant. Kaela did that when she didn’t get her runs, when she felt ignored—an obnoxious two-year-old in spirit who could flood Talia with restless energy until she laughed or gave in.This was different.Kaela wasn’t restless.She was grieving.“I know,” Talia murmured under her breath. “I feel it too.”They crested the ridge, and the world below came into view.What had once been an outpost was now a grave without markers.Charred beams jutted from the snow at crooked angles, blackened and split. The border marker—etched generations ago with oaths of loyalty and protection—lay shattered in two, its runes scorched beyond recognition. Smoke no longer rose, but the smell lingered, he
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Lucian's POVThe storm swallowed her tracks by morning.Cassius said she’d taken the southern trail—the one that cut along the ridge toward the old Blackriver borders. Lucian hadn’t needed confirmation. He could feel the bond stretching thin in that direction, faint and flickering, like a heartbeat muffled by smoke.She hadn’t severed it.She’d muted it.That was worse.All through the night, Lucian paced the great hall, hearth after hearth burning down to ash beneath his restless hand before flaring back to life again. Smoke clung to the rafters. The stone walls felt closer with every passing hour. Savage prowled beneath his skin, restless, pacing with him—fur bristling, claws scraping bone.Savage missed her.Missed Kaella’s presence in the wind. Missed the rhythm of their shared runs, the way she always laughed when Savage surged ahead and doubled back for her.Cassius lingered near the doorway, silent, knowing better than to offer comfort to a king whose instincts were caged and w
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Lucian POVLucian decided to let Talia get as much sleep as possible before they left for the inner city. Whatever strength she had left, she would need it behind stone walls and ancient wards, not here in a mountain house that pretended to be safe.The fire had burned low, little more than a hush of orange coals. Lucian sat awake beside it, boots planted on the stone floor, elbows resting on his knees, listening to the quiet as soldiers listened for ghosts.Quiet never meant peace.It meant waiting.Talia lay in the next room, her breathing soft and even—too even. Lately, even her sleep felt heavy, as if rest no longer reached all the way to her bones. She spoke less each day. Laughed less. The spark in her eyes—the one that had survived exile, war, prophecy, and blood—had dulled into something fragile and distant, like a star seen through fog.He’d told himself it was exhaustion.That carrying three lives would weigh on any woman.But tonight, he had learned it was more.Through the
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Alina didn’t need the mind-link to know who was coming.She opened the door quietly, slipping into the corridor before the handle could turn.Casius stood there, his expression calm, which was impressive given their circumstances.“The library,” he said in a low voice. “I already called Lucian.”Alina’s gaze flicked toward the closed door farther down the corridor—Talia’s room. “She’s resting,” Alina whispered.“Good,” Casius replied. “She stays that way. She can’t be part of this conversation. We protect the Luna—even from herself.”The library sat half-buried in the mountain, its walls thick with stone and old magic. Shelves lined the room floor to ceiling, heavy with records of wars, bloodlines, and decisions that had reshaped kingdoms.Lucian stood at the tall, narrow window overlooking the treeline, moonlight casting his silhouette in pale silver.“You called?” he asked without turning.Casius closed the door behind them, the sound final. “We needed to talk. Away from her.”Lucia
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