The courtyard of the Blackwood Palace was no longer a place of welcome. It was a forest of silver-tipped spears, all pointed at the man they once called King."Killian, stand down!" Silas’s voice boomed from the balcony. "You have no authority here! You are a rogue, and your mate is a shadow-infected abomination!"Killian didn't respond with words. He stepped forward, his boots crunching on the gravel. Every step sent a ripple of golden Alpha energy through the air, so heavy that the nearest Council Enforcers began to choke."My authority doesn't come from a Council scroll, Silas," Killian growled, his silver hair flickering in the wind. "It comes from the blood of this land. And the land recognizes its King."Beatrix, the cousin, let out a sharp, cold laugh. She shifted, her wolf form—a sleek, white-furred predator—leaping over the balcony railing to land in front of us. She bared her teeth, looking at me with pure disdain."He’s weak, Silas," Beatrix snarled, her voice a mix of huma
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