LOGIN[Elian’s POV]The fire burned low in the hearth of the Warlord’s bedchamber.I sat on the edge of the large mattress. Cillian knelt on the hard stone floor right in front of me. He did not wear his heavy battle armor tonight. He wore a simple, dark linen shirt. His massive hands hovered nervously near my throat. His thick fingers were completely steady, but his breathing was rough and uneven.He carefully tilted my chin up to look at my neck.The dark bruises from the invisible hand were fading. They were mostly an ugly, sickly yellow color now, wrapping tightly around my collarbone.Cillian stared at the marks. His jaw locked so tightly that the muscle in his cheek actually ticked. He blamed himself entirely. He had grabbed Selene’s throat in the Eastern basement, and her sympathetic blood magic had forced my body to take the brutal damage. He pulled his hand back quickly and looked down at the floor, unable to meet my eyes."It doesn't hurt anymore," I told him. My voice was quiet b
[Martha’s POV]Sleep refused to come.I lay in my small bed near the kitchens, staring at the dark ceiling. I turned onto my left side, then my right, but my old bones ached with a restless, nervous energy. I finally gave up. I threw the heavy wool blankets off my legs and sat up. I tied my thick robe tightly around my waist and stepped out into the quiet castle.I needed to walk. I needed to move my feet to stop my mind from racing.The stone corridors were freezing this late at night, but I did not care. My heart was entirely consumed with worry. I thought about Elian. He was finally out of that horrible bed, and the bruising on his throat was starting to turn a dull, healing yellow. But he was not truly safe. The dark magic connecting his life to that evil woman upstairs was a knife hanging directly over his head. Every time he took a breath, I wondered if it would be his last.And then my thoughts turned to Gaius.My chest tightened. Gaius was not a young man. He was a healer. He
[Selene’s POV]I walked across the floor of the royal suite. I turned at the large bed, walked to the heavy wooden door, and turned around again. My legs ached, but I could not stop moving. The walls of the room felt like they were shrinking.I reached up and touched my own throat. My fingers pressed against the dark bruises Cillian had left on my skin. A sharp pain shot down my neck, but I ignored it. I pressed harder, using the pain to keep my mind sharp.Hours ago, I sat in hot water and thought I had the perfect plan. I had sent the little maid, Clara, down to the kitchens. I told her to spread rumors about the King hiding while the rogue Alpha did his dirty work in the catacombs. I wanted Kaelen to hear the gossip. I wanted the rogue to get angry, to feel used, and to point his broadsword at Cillian's throat.It was a smart plan. It was meant to make the two Alphas fight each other.But the longer I stayed locked in this room, the more my confidence cracked.I stopped pacing and
[Kaelen’s POV]We walked into the absolute dark.The fourth tunnel was entirely different from the rest of the foundation. It was tighter, colder, and completely silent. The only sound in the deep earth was the heavy, dragging footsteps of the frail scholars behind me. My iron broadsword was drawn, held loosely in my right hand as my eyes scanned the shadows for ancient traps.The air down here was a weapon. The magical silver dust was so thick it looked like a heavy winter fog coating the jagged rocks. It stuck to my dark leather armor and settled heavily on my shoulders.I looked back over my shoulder. The four old men were struggling to keep up. They were bent over, their chests heaving as they desperately tried to pull the thin, freezing air through their oil-soaked linen masks. They were completely exhausted. These were men who lived their entire lives inside warm libraries, reading paper and drinking hot tea. Now, they were trapped in a collapsing maze, completely relying on a f
[Kaelen’s POV]My thick iron dagger was the only thing standing between us and a brutal death.I knelt on the cold dirt floor of the narrow ventilation shaft. My left hand was locked in a vice grip on the young scholar's shirt, keeping him completely frozen. Directly above our heads, the massive, spiked iron block hung in the dark shadows, held up by rusted chains. The flat stone pressure plate was right under the boy’s heavy boot."Do not move a single muscle," I commanded. My voice was a low, steady rumble in the tight space.I let go of his shirt. I grabbed the heavy iron dagger from my belt. I leaned forward, moving incredibly slowly. I slid the thick metal blade directly into the tiny gap between the pressure plate and the solid stone floor.I pushed down with all my strength. My arm muscles tightened and burned. The iron blade scraped harshly against the rock. I forced it deeper into the mechanism, wedging it tightly under the flat stone."Slide your foot back," I told the boy,
[Elian’s POV]My eyes snapped open, but my lungs were completely empty.I shot up from the mattress, my hands desperately grabbing the thick blankets. My chest heaved, pulling in short, jagged gasps of air. I was not in immediate physical danger. The bedroom was incredibly warm, and the heavy oak doors were locked tight against the winter chill. But the panic was already inside my blood, hammering violently against my ribs like a trapped bird.The heavy reality of what was happening hit me all at once.While I was resting in a soft, safe bed, Kaelen was currently walking through the dark depths of the mountain. He was down there in the absolute pitch-black, risking his life in a collapsing maze just to find a cure for my curse. He had left the safety of the courtyard and walked straight into a death trap.My hands started to shake uncontrollably."Elian. Look at me."The voice was deep, steady, and cut straight through the deafening noise of my panic.I did not have to search the room
[Cillian’s POV]Bong. Bong. Bong.The heavy iron bells of the Blackwood chapel did not sound like a celebration. To my ears, they sounded like a funeral dirge, tolling for the death of my soul.I stood at the high altar, dressed in ceremonial armor polished to a blinding silver shine. The great hall
The solid rock cracked under his fist, sending a shower of dust to the floor. The force of it snapped something back into place inside my head. Raw, pure fear cut through the fever haze. I pulled my hand back, pressing it tightly against my chest. What am I doing? I thought, panic cutting throug
"Alpha."The word hung in the hot, heavy air of the room, heavy and completely damning. I couldn't believe I had said it. My brain screamed in horror, but my body didn't care. My inner Omega, starved and beaten down into the dark for nineteen years, clawed its way to the surface, demanding I give i
My ribs ached before I opened my eyes. That was how every morning started. Pain. A dull, steady ache burned on my left side where Alpha Thorne had kicked me two days ago. My crime? I hadn't scrubbed the blood out of the training mats quick enough. It wasn't just that my ribs ached. The screaming







