"You sure this is the fastest way in?" Erald whispered.
Ares crouched beside her behind the low stone wall bordering the back of the Midnight Fang estate. His eyes scanned the periter like a soldier preparing for war.
"No," he muttered. "But it’s the least suicidal."
Erald peeked over the edge.
The once proud Midnight Fang manor now resembled a garrison... filled with rogues and guards, many of them unfamiliar. So bore the traditional crest on their shoulders. Others didn’t wear any insignia at all.
From their positioning and lazy postures, it was clear most of them didn’t expect trouble. Why would they? Talia thought her biggest threat had been reduced to ash.
"They really bought it," she said under her breath. "She probably thinks I’m dead."
Ares smirked. "Good. That gives us an advantage."
They moved together, ducking under brush and darting through blind spots. The periter guards were fewer toward the western wing. The patrols were slower, less organised.
"She has the numbers," Ares muttered. "But not the discipline."
Erald didn’t respond. Her heart was beating hard in her chest.
She didn’t know what she’d find: if Lucien was still standing, or bleeding out in so dark room, but every second they spent crawling along hedgerows and slipping behind walls just tightened the knot in her chest.
Minutes later, they slipped through a broken section of the estate wall and into the shadows of the courtyard.
They could hear voices floating down from the upper terrace, where a group of people had gathered at the main pavilion.
Erald’s heart stopped when she heard one of the voices.
Lucien.
They crept closer, staying just behind a row of stacked crates near the outer corridor. Erald carefully peeked around the edge.
There he was... surrounded.
Lucien stood tall, and despite the bruises and cuts on his face, he kept his back straight and his chin up.
In front of him was Talia, dressed in rich royal colours. Her hair was pulled back neatly, making her look like so glorified monarch. She wore a confident, almost smug smile, enjoying the feeling of being in control.
"You want her back?" Talia said, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Then prove to your people you’re not worthy of their loyalty."
Lucien didn’t move.
Talia took one step forward. "Kneel. Kiss my feet. Relinquish your title."
Erald’s fists clenched, her nails digging into her palms.
If Ares hadn’t found her... she would’ve been dead already... burned, and reduced to ash. Talia knew that, yet she was here, making claims.
"She’s bluffing," Ares whispered beside her. "Even she wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill you that quickly."
"I’m pretty sure the fire wasn’t bluffing when they burned ," Erald replied. "She wanted to bury and make him bow."
"So," Ares murmured, "what’s the big plan?"
Erald stared hard at the guards lining the pavilion. "We can’t fight our way through. And I can’t trust any of them. I don’t know who’s really on her side."
"Then we wait," Ares said.
"For what? An invitation?"
"For a mont... when she’s alone, she can’t stay surrounded forever."
Erald didn’t like it.
"That ans letting her win," she muttered.
Ares raised a brow. "So what? Lucien kneels, bruises his ego, buys us ti."
But before anything could happen, Lucien stepped forward, speaking in a cold and clear voice. "Prove she’s alive," he said. "If you want to kneel, I want proof."
Talia tilted her head. "You don’t get to make demands."
"You don’t get to, too," Lucien snapped back. "Not without proof."
Talia’s expression twisted with irritation. "You have no choice," she hissed. "Bow, or you’ll never see her alive again."
Erald’s breath hitched in her throat. She thought he would give in and do what she asked.
But instead, Lucien took a step back and stayed silent. The quiet between them felt overwhelming.
Talia’s smile disappeared completely. "You’re pathetic," she spat. "Throw him in the dungeon. Maybe ti in the dark will teach him manners."
Guards moved instantly, dragging Lucien away.
Ares watched the scene with an arched brow. "So much for you wanting to protect him, uhn?" he muttered. "But what is he doing? Guess pride still cos first."
Erald didn’t answer at first... she couldn’t. "I’m sure he cares and is planning sothing."
He snorted. "Didn’t seem like he cared much when he refused to kneel for you."
Erald flinched.
Ares continued, "He could’ve ended this. All he had to do was give up the throne. Instead, he let her throw him into a cell."
She wanted to believe Lucien had so plan... so reason for not bending. But the knot in her stomach tightened, and a small, ugly voice whispered, He chose his title over you.
Still hidden, Erald watched as Talia began issuing orders to the elders and guards. Ares leaned closer.
"We should move," he whispered. "She’s getting cocky."
They trailed her from a safe distance, ducking into alcoves and shadowed halls. Eventually, Talia disappeared into her private quarters at the far wing. Two guards took position outside her door.
"Great," Ares muttered. "We finally find the snake’s den, and it’s double-locked."
Erald’s eyes stayed fixed on the door.
Ares glanced at her. "So what’s the play now? Break into the dungeon and save your Alpha mate?"
Erald shook her head. "No."
Ares looked surprised. "No?"
"Talia might not be alone again soon... this might be our only chance at this," she said. "Lucien can wait."
After all, he’d chosen his pride over her, she said to herself.
Ares watched her for a long mont. "You’re angry."
"I’m focused."
He smirked. "Right."
Erald’s tone dropped. "Talia’s not a fighter. I can take her. I just need the guards gone."
"I’ll handle it."
Before she could say more, Ares bolted down the hallway, making enough noise to draw attention. The guards heard the clatter and ran toward it without hesitation, weapons drawn.
Erald sprinted the opposite way, slipping into Talia’s room in the next breath.
Talia was standing near the mirror, brushing her hair, her back to the door. She froze when the door clicked shut.
Her eyes widened when she saw who entered.
"...You."
Erald’s voice was cold. "Surprised to see ?"
Talia lunged for the door, but Erald tackled her before she could scream.
They slamd into the dresser, perfu bottles clattering to the ground. Talia tried to claw at her, but Erald caught her arm and twisted it behind her back.
"You’re so weak," Erald growled, rage boiling to the surface. "But you want to be Alpha so bad, huh?"
Talia gasped, struggling, but Erald slamd her down against the floorboards, pinning her.
Talia let out a strangled noise as Erald’s knee pressed into her spine. "You don’t deserve the title. You don’t deserve the power. And you sure as hell don’t deserve to speak his na."
Talia’s voice was a rasp. "You’re nothing."
Erald’s grip tightened. "You tried to kill . Twice. You manipulated everyone, turned them against him. All for what? A throne you’ll never keep."
Talia’s eyes burned with hatred. "You’re just another pawn. He’ll throw you away."
"I’ve been thrown away before," Erald said, voice trembling. "But not this ti."
Talia managed to kick upward, just enough to knock Erald off balance. She rolled, grabbing a glass vase from the nightstand and smashing it against Erald’s side.
Erald gasped, taking a few steps back as blood blood along her head, giving Talia enough ti to scramble to her feet and run towards the door.
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