His Breaking Point- I

KEIRA

The blade didn’t fall.

It stopped.

Just... stopped.

Right at the curve of Nikolai's throat. Just barely nicking it, just enough to draw blood. A single, jagged line of blood bloomed red, stark against the pale sweep of his neck, like a rose pressed into winter snow. And yet… he didn’t blink.

Not a twitch.

Not a flinch.

Not when the prince's jaw clenched, not when his knuckles turned white from how tight he gripped the hilt. The blade trembled. His hand shook like he was trying to stop it from ending everything.

My chest squeezed. My fists clenched so tight my nails bit into my palms. 

And Nikolai?

He just stood there, firelight catching on the edges of his eyes. 

“What’s the matter? You finally have the chance, and still, you can’t do it? Is that all your grief amounts to? Shaking hands and half-hearted threats?”

I stepped closer, my pulse hammering. I could see the blood tracing a thin, crimson line down his throat.

And still... no fear.

“Do it. You’ve always been good at turning your back. Finish this, too.”

The blade wavered.

“Don’t,” The Prince's words cracked. He swallowed, his Adam's apple bobbing. “Do. Not. Speak like that.”

“Why?” Nikolai kept walking, slowly, forcing that blade to draw more blood with every inch, disappearing into the collar of his torn coat. “You didn’t stop when I stood in front of you, either. Not when I told you the truth. Not when I bled for it.”

“Don’t—”

“I chose you,” Nikolai's voice rose, ragged, torn from some part of him the world had never seen. And then... the first tear. Rolling down his cheek, and he let them. “And still, still, you spat on what we had. Every. Damn. Time.”

The blade dropped half an inch when Nikolai's shoulders trembled.

“You want someone to blame?” Nikolai hissed. “Then look at the one who refused to believe. I came to you... and said the thing no man should ever say.” He let out a bitter laugh. “I told you you were mine. And what did you do? You laughed. You turned around and went to war with your own fucking heart.”

I swallowed. My throat burned. This wasn’t just a fight. This was years unraveling in one breath.

“Years... years of watching you pick everyone but me. Of you shoving mortal women into your bed just to shut out what you knew. What you felt.... And I? I fucking watched you play pretend... while you left me in that cursed northern wasteland, bleeding for a mate who wouldn’t even say my name.”

The Prince’s jaw tightened. His chest heaved. His hands trembled, though he didn’t move. “You were never mine,” he rasped.

“Weren't I?! I begged you, Zaqriel. I fucking begged you to choose me!”

The name hit me like a slap. I didn’t know that name, and yet—I somehow... did.

“And now she’s dead,” Nikolai whispered, trembling. “And it’s my fault? Mine?”

“She died because of you!”

“She died because you didn’t listen! You bound yourself to her, chained her to you, made her carry the weight of a bond she never asked for, while the one who was meant to bear—the real one—stood right in front of you.”

The words slashed through Zaqriel. I saw the crack in his armor. The ghost of guilt. But the anger, the rage, kept him upright.

“She’s free now... Do you think she’s watching us from wherever the dead go? Do you think she’s proud? You think this vengeance makes her death mean something? It doesn’t. You’re still a coward, Zaqriel. A coward who would rather drown in guilt than admit he’s afraid of me.”

“Shut your fucking mouth!” Zaqriel bellowed. My knees threatened to buckle. Even from across the hall, the force of his roar rattled me.

“You remember the first time you looked at me?” Nikolai pressed. “You thought I was just a pup. I was seventeen. Seventeen and stupid and... and already shackled to a bond I never even asked for. Do you know what it’s like to feel everything you feel, every desire, every ache, every choice... and know none of it is for me?”

Zaqriel reeled like he’d been slapped.

“And still I came to you. Again. And again. And AGAIN. You spat on the bond. You turned your back. You made me watch you love her. You let her suffer, Zaqriel. You let Ivy die before ever freeing her.”

“Don’t—say—her—name!” Zaq screamed. His hand jolted, and for a breath, I thought it was done. That blood would pour, and Nikolai would drop.

But he didn’t.

The blade only bit deeper.

And Nikolai didn’t budge.

“Why not? She trusted me. That was her last mistake. You didn’t even come to her when she was suffering. I did. Want to know what she said, Zaq?”

Zaqriel’s other hand curled into a shaking fist.

“She said... ‘Tell him to stop fighting it. I was never his.’” 

“You want to die, Nikolai? Think this makes you a martyr?”

“No.” Nikolai smiled. It was jagged. Broken. Beautiful. “This makes me free. Go ahead. Bury that sword. Make it count.”

Zaqriel’s whole body shook now... veins standing out, breath shallow. But the blade never moved beyond that thin line at the throat.

He was crumbling. I could see it.

“Finish it, Zaq... End my agony. Kill me.”

Zaqriel roared... roared... and flung the blade away. Metal rang as it clattered across the bloodied stone.

He reeled back, gasping like a man trying not to drown in his own fire. He turned, fists clenched, steps shaky. 

“Why can’t I do it?” he whispered, to no one, to himself.

No answer.

“WHY CAN’T I FUCKING HURT YOU?!”

“You know why.”

“You’re a fucking wolf!” Zaqriel spat, not turning to face him.

“Half-wolf. The other half you’ve tasted more than once.”

Zaqriel turned back, his eyes bleeding crimson. “You are a mistake the bond made.”

“Then why didn’t you kill me?”

“Because I fucking hate you.” 

“No,” Nikolai leaned. “Because a part of you never stopped wanting me. Because deep down, you know, I'm your—”

Zaqriel lunged. Not with his sword, but with his fist, slamming into Nikolai’s chest, shoving him against a crumbling pillar. The crack of impact echoed through my bones.

And I felt it... ripping through me. My stomach lurched, my lungs seized, and I gasped, clutching at my ribs like I could hold the pieces together.

I couldn't.

And when Nikolai coughed blood, the sound ripped through me like it was my own lungs collapsing. I clutched my throat, and the sharp taste of copper coated my tongue.

What the hell… how—how was I bleeding for him?

My knees buckled, my vision blurred, but I couldn’t blink. Couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

And then… Zaqriel’s mouth lowered, brushing against Nikolai’s bloodied throat... slow... right where his blade had kissed.

My heart forgot how to beat.

And he... bit.