All Chapters of Dead Queens Don't Kneel Twice: Return of the Beheaded Empres: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

CASTIEL'S POVThe guards dragged me down the corridor.Their hands were rough on my arms, their fingers digging into my flesh like they were trying to leave bruises. They were enjoying this. I could see it in their eyes—the smug satisfaction of men who had been given power over a broken wolf. The kind of men who had never held real power in their lives, who had never commanded armies or led men into battle, and now they were basking in the pathetic illusion of superiority.I didn't resist.I didn't have the energy.My mind was a storm. A hurricane of confusion and pain and rage and grief that swirled together into something unrecognizable. I couldn't think straight. I couldn't breathe. All I could see was her face. All I could hear was her voice. All I could feel was the echo of her touch burned into my skin like a brand.Why?Why was this happening to me?I had never asked for this. I had never wanted this. I had spent three years drowning in grief, three years surviving on nothing b

NESSA’S POVThe door swung open and I stepped inside.The room was exactly as I remembered it. The vast canopy bed draped in crimson and gold, the fabric heavy and opulent. The thick velvet curtains that pooled on the floor like spilled blood. The marble fireplace with the Ketharan crest carved into the mantle, the wolf's jaws frozen in an eternal snarl. The massive windows that overlooked the courtyard where I had once stood as queen.I had slept in this room. I had loved, cried and bled in this room.And now I was back.I walked slowly, my fingers trailing across the furniture. The vanity where I had sat while handmaidens braided my hair, their fingers gentle and careful, their voices soft as they whispered gossip about the court. The writing desk where I had penned letters to my mother, letters she would never read, letters that had been intercepted and used against me. The wardrobe where I had hung my gowns—the ones I had worn to council meetings, to feasts, to the execution squar

NESSA'S POVI met his gaze. My eyes were cold. Empty. Dead."Touch me again," I said, my voice barely above a whisper, "and I promise you, your death will be the stuff of legends. Slow. Agonizing. The kind of death that makes grown men weep and hardened warriors beg for mercy. I will take my time with you, Valerius. Every second will be a lifetime of suffering."He licked his lips. A slow, deliberate movement. His eyes gleamed with sick amusement."I love this side of you," he said. "That fire. That hatred. It makes me want you even more. I've never had a woman who looked at me like she wanted to gut me. It's... intoxicating.""Then you're a fool.""Perhaps." He stepped closer. His voice dropped to a whisper. "But I'm a fool who gets what he wants. And what I want is you. After the Luna ceremony, when you're officially mine, I'm going to take you. I'm going to have you in my bed. I'm going to make you scream my name. And I'm going to make Castiel watch. I'm going to make him stand the

CASTIEL'S POVI stood in the doorway, staring at her.The uniform was too tight. The fabric scratched against my skin like sandpaper. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong. I was a Warrior Beta, a commander of armies, a man whose name was spoken with fear across every territory. I was supposed to be leading men into battle, not standing watch outside the chambers of the woman my wolf clung to while she prepared to marry a monster.But I was here. Because I had nowhere else to go. My wolf refused to leave her side, she had asked me to trust her. And despite everything—despite the pain, the humiliation, the suffocating weight of this nightmare—I was a fool. A pathetic fool bound by a bond I had no say in and I couldn't walk away even when every instinct screamed at me to run.The silence stretched between us. She was staring at me. Her eyes were red-rimmed, swollen from crying. She had been weeping. I could smell the salt on her skin. I could see the tracks the tears had carved

NESSA'S POVI couldn't breathe.He was too close. His body was inches from mine, the heat radiating off him like a furnace. I could smell him—cedar and smoke and something darker underneath that made my head spin and my knees weak. It was intoxicating. Overwhelming. It consumed every thought, every breath, every rational part of my mind.I stared up at him. My thoughts were a tangled mess, a chaotic storm I couldn't control. This man had turned everything upside down. What I had initially dismissed as a useful ally, a convenient tool in my quest for vengeance, had become something far more complicated. Something I refused to name.He had sacrificed everything. His position. His dignity. His pride. Any sensible man would have walked away. Any sensible man would have washed his hands of me and never looked back. But he didn't. He stayed. He stayed even when I pushed him away. Even when I told him to leave. Even when I made it clear that I was nothing but trouble.Why?Why wouldn't he ju