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CHAPTER 9: THE TASTE OF ASH

Author: Inkbyjane
last update publish date: 2026-06-04 13:32:18

ELENA’S POV

The Citadel’s private powder room was a quiet sanctuary of gold-leaf mirrors and running water. But the heavy scent of jasmine perfume could not mask the sudden drop in temperature the moment I walked inside.

I stood before the marble basin, letting the cold water wash the faint traces of Kaelen’s spilled wine from my fingers. In the reflection of the glass, my silver eyes looked back at me—steady, unyielding, and entirely devoid of the fear that used to define my life.

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    ELENA’S POV The ruined courtyard of the High Council Citadel was older than the kingdoms themselves. It sat exposed to the elements, a hollow ring of shattered obsidian pillars wrapped in frozen ivy. The ground was paved with fractured black stone, and overhead, the silver moonlight cut through the mountain fog like a series of pale blades. It was a beautiful, dead place. It suited me perfectly. I stood in the center of the ruins, my long burgundy silk gown pooling around my leather boots. The heavy fur cloak Nikolai had given me hung loosely from my shoulders, keeping the biting mountain wind from my skin. Every few seconds, the silver signet ring on my right hand would pulse, sending a steady, icy current of Eclipse magic through my veins. It kept the exhaustion at bay. It kept the memories from turning into pain. Since I had stepped onto the southern borders, the void inside my chest had become my greatest armor. I felt no nervousness. I felt no fear. I was simply a predator

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  • The Alpha Who Rejected Me   CHAPTER 9: THE TASTE OF ASH

    ELENA’S POV The Citadel’s private powder room was a quiet sanctuary of gold-leaf mirrors and running water. But the heavy scent of jasmine perfume could not mask the sudden drop in temperature the moment I walked inside. I stood before the marble basin, letting the cold water wash the faint traces of Kaelen’s spilled wine from my fingers. In the reflection of the glass, my silver eyes looked back at me—steady, unyielding, and entirely devoid of the fear that used to define my life. The heavy oak door behind me clicked shut. The lock turned with a sharp, deliberate snap. "You think you’ve won, don't you?" Lady Tanya stepped out from the shadows of the arched entryway. Her golden crown sat slightly crooked on her styled blonde hair, and her chest heaved with an ugly rage. She had shed her fake diplomatic smile, leaving only the cruel, spoiled girl who used to watch the pack guards kick me into the dirt. I didn't turn around. I simply tore a linen towel from the rack and drie

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