Lucien blinked the sleep from his eyes and rolled onto his side, grabbing his phone from the nightstand out of habit. The screen remained black.
"Dead," he muttered, tossing it back onto the table with a grunt.
He didn’t think much of it as he plugged the charger in and set the phone aside. Morning light stread lazily through the window. Despite the chaos of the night before, there was a fragile stillness that settled over the estate.
It felt like a rare mont of peace.
And yet, even with that illusion... his gut wouldn’t quite relax.
He washed up, tugged on a clean shirt, and ran his hands through damp hair before heading out into the hall.
His footsteps were silent as he moved through the corridors, past the guards stationed near the upper wing. His eyes paused briefly on Erald’s door.
He didn’t knock.
She’d had enough to deal with. After everything she’d done for him: risking her life, exposing traitors, enduring loss, she deserved one quiet morning.
Still... he lingered a second longer than necessary before turning away.
"Let her sleep," Shade, his wolf, murmured from deep within. "She needs it."
"Yeah," Lucien muttered, "she does."
He walked past her room, heading toward the study. The halls were quiet, too quiet, but he didn’t mind the stillness, not this morning.
Maybe it was because Pierce was dead. Maybe it was because Erald had chosen to stay. Sohow, he felt—could he really call it that?—hopeful?
Lucien stepped into the study and exhaled slowly as he sat behind the massive desk. His thoughts wandered as he stared down at the stack of reports in front of him.
Things have changed so much since she arrived.
He leaned back in the chair, fingers steepled under his chin.
The council is shaking, the pack is opening up to again, even if only a little. Erald’s pushed to face truths I never wanted to. She didn’t have to help. She didn’t co here for any of this, but she stayed anyway.
A pang of guilt lanced through him.
She didn’t sign up to clean up my past. She could’ve left, should’ve left.
And yet, she hadn’t.
He smiled faintly. Maybe when this was over, when the traitors were exposed and the rogues stopped circling their walls, he could finally give her sothing soft. A night that didn’t end in spilled blood and broken walls.
"Maybe a quiet dinner. Sothing normal. Sothing just ours." Shade suggested.
Just then, there was a knock at the study door.
It creaked open, and in walked Talia, balancing a tray. She dipped her head, as polite as ever.
"Your breakfast, Alpha."
Lucien nodded absently. "Thank you."
He didn’t look up until she’d placed the tray on the side table. The scent of roasted at and citrus filled the air.
"Has Erald woken up yet?" he asked.
Talia smiled. "Still asleep. I checked on her a few minutes ago."
"Let her rest," he said quietly. "She needs it."
Talia bowed and slipped out of the room.
Lucien reached for the drink on the tray, a smooth golden tea, and lifted it to his lips. But just as the glass touched the rim of his mouth, a thought hit him... his phone.
He looked at the ti and rembered that he was supposed to make an important call this morning.
Lucien pulled the glass back and set it down. He stood, pushing the tray aside, and walked back upstairs toward his bedroom. His phone now had a faint blue light blinking... fully charged.
He grabbed it and flipped it open, scrolling through missed notifications.
A single unread ssage waited on the screen.
Erald: It’s not one of the elders.
Lucien froze in place, feeling every part of him go rigid as the words on the screen sent a chill through him.
The tistamp was from past midnight, around the ti he rembered leaving the study.
He stared at his phone, reading the ssage once, twice, three tis. Slowly, his hand tightened around the phone.
Lucien turned and stord down the hall toward her room. He didn’t bother knocking this ti; he simply pushed the door open.
Empty.
The bed was untouched, showing no signs that she had been there. Her belongings were undisturbed, and there was no trace of her usual freshly showered scent. Everything was just quiet and still.
His eyes scanned the space, looking for signs of struggle, of disturbance... nothing
The maid said she checked on her. That she was still asleep.
Lucien’s heart thundered. "Where is she?" Shade growled. "She wouldn’t leave without telling us. Sothing’s wrong."
Lucien’s jaw clenched as he reread the ssage: It’s not one of the elders.
His stomach sank.
"She was trying to warn ," he breathed. "The traitor..."
Lucien stord back to the study, where the breakfast tray still waited. Without touching it, he rang for the guard. "Send the maid from before in to return this to the kitchen," he said coolly.
Talia arrived seconds later, stepping in with her usual grace. "Everything alright, Alpha?"
Lucien studied her, calm and still. "Is Erald awake yet?"
Talia paused only for half a second. "She should be on her way down soon."
Her voice was smooth, almost too smooth.
"Get the food... I’m not hungry."
"Okay, Alpha."
Lucien watched as Talia moved towards his desk and reached for the food tray. In a blink, he was slamming her against the wall with a silver dagger to her throat.
Talia gasped, eyes wide. "Alpha!"
"Who are you?" Lucien snarled, his face inches from hers. "And what did you do with Erald?"
"I-I don’t understand—!"
"Lie to again," he growled.
"I’m serious, Alpha. I don’t know what you’re talking about."
Lucien tightened his grip. "You have five seconds to start talking."
Her eyes narrowed, then darkened in an instant. The innocence lted away like frost beneath sunlight. "If you kill , you’ll never find her. And by the ti you do..." she tilted her head, "...she’ll be dead."
Lucien’s whole body trembled as he breathed heavily through gritted teeth. Shade surged against his skin, screaming for blood.
He shoved her back and stepped away just as the study doors exploded inward.
Three rogues burst into the study in half-wolf form.
Lucien turned, already moving. His silver blade slashed the first across the chest. The second charged and caught his shoulder, ripping through cloth and flesh, but Lucien didn’t slow. He drove his elbow into the rogue’s skull and twisted, bringing it down hard.
Blood sprayed the wall.
The third leapt for his throat, but Lucien ducked and drove the dagger upward through the rogue’s chest.
Talia darted through the chaos, fleeing down the corridor.
"Coward!" Lucien roared, ripping his blade free and running after her.
The hall exploded into sound... guards yelling, boots slamming, weapons drawn. More appeared, not just rogues, but council guards. So bore the Midnight Fang insignia. Others... did not.
As he burst into the west courtyard, he skidded to a halt.
A group had already assembled: elders, guards. So of them he recognised, so of them had stood beside him during his rise to power.
Now they stood beside her.
"This is treason," he hissed.
Talia stepped forward. "Stand down, Lucien. It’s over."
Lucien’s grip tightened on his blade. "Where is she? Where’s Erald?!!!"
"Safe. For now."
"If you’ve hurt her..."
"I haven’t," she said, raising a finger. "Yet."
He raised his dagger again. "You won’t leave this courtyard."
One of the elders stepped forward, face twisted with disdain. "You should have let the past die, boy. You don’t deserve the title you stole."
"Kill him," another growled. "End it now."
Lucien’s eyes burned with fury, but then Talia lifted her hand. "No," she said, almost sweetly. "No need for blood yet."
She stepped closer, her eyes never leaving Lucien’s. "You want her back?" she asked. "Then beg."
His eyes narrowed. "You think I’ll..."
She raised a hand, silencing him.
"There’s only one condition under which I’ll tell you where Erald is," she said.
Lucien didn’t blink.
Talia’s smile spread, slow and satisfied. "I want you to kneel," she whispered. "Kiss my feet... and relinquish your title as Alpha."
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