"We have a week and a few days until the full moon," Herod said, gaze drifting to the sky as if it might hurry up and make things easier. "Alaric says Ava must accept the bond of her own free will for to gain access to her powers. How do you propose I go about her wanting to mate with ?"
"It’s simple," Dorian said with a shrug. "She has to love you."
"You think love is simple?" he repeated.
"That’s why you have ." Dorian allowed himself a small smile. "Ava likes grand gestures. Also little things. Thoughtful things. The kind that make her feel seen, not just wanted. She wants to feel important. Like a queen, not a prize."
Herod scoffed, but it sounded forced. "If she can forget about Lucas..."
Dorian interrupted smoothly. "Then throw everything you have into making her want you. Not your title. Not your power. You."
Herod exhaled. "Well, the clock is ticking. Alaric better get to work."
Dorian slowed his steps. "One more thing, Your Highness."
Herod raised a brow, already looking annoyed. "Yes?"
"Rember that blank cheque?" Dorian smirked, falling into step beside the King with all the ease of a man who’d been waiting just for this mont.
Herod didn’t break stride, but his eyes narrowed, calculating. "What do you want?"
The smirk stretched wider across Dorian’s face, cocky and sharp. "As soon as you get her powers..." he paused, relishing the words, "I want you to hand her over to ."
The King slowed, just slightly. "What would you want with her?" he asked, a note of curiosity threading through his usual chill.
Dorian’s voice was smooth but dark, as though each word was dipped in poison and honey. "To kill her, of course."
Herod stopped completely. He turned to face Dorian, really looked at him this ti. He didn’t speak. His silence was sharp enough to slice through Dorian’s smug grin.
Dorian only shrugged, unbothered. "We all have our goals, Your Highness. Yours is domination. Mine is justice. Or revenge, depending on the angle. Either way—when you’re done playing lover-boy, I’ll be waiting."
*****
Dennis bolted upright, gasping as if escaping a nightmare.
"The hell...?" he muttered, blinking blearily in the half-light.
Beside him, Lucas groaned, tossing an arm over his eyes. "Five more minutes," he mumbled.
Dennis kicked him—hard—in the shin. "Wake up! Sothing’s happening."
Lucas hissed and sat up, rubbing his leg.
"Window," Dennis pointed urgently. "Now."
Lucas stumbled over to the window and peered through the narrow slit. What he saw made his heart leap so high it practically perford a sorsault.
A sea of wolves.
Not just any wolves—their wolves. Dozens of soldiers from both their packs, fierce and loyal, standing defiant at the gates of the High Council. At their head, Kade, glowed with fury.
Lucas grinned. "They’re here!" he shouted.
Dennis whooped, punching the air. "I told you! I told you they would co!"
Lucas laughed, disbelief and pride mingling in his voice. "Son of a bitch. I never would’ve thought...Kade actually brought the whole pack!"
Dennis grinned. "You don’t ss with wolves without their alphas."
Lucas’s chest swelled. Hope flooded through him like wildfire. "I’m coming for you, my little virgin."
*****
Alaric stood by the great hearth of his chambers, arranging ceremonial herbs. Candles flickered ominously, their light casting strange, snakelike shadows on the stone walls.
He’d ordered Ava brought to him. It was ti.
Ti to cleanse her of Lucas’s mark. Ti to sever her bond to the wolf who anchored her soul. Ti to prepare her for the King.
Ava was ushered in by two guards. Her eyes were stormy, full of suspicion, and just enough defiance to make Alaric’s fingers twitch. She had that stubborn set to her jaw again, the one that said she’d fight through hell before surrendering.
Alaric turned slowly, hands clasped. "goddess," he said. "You look... burdened."
"You look ridiculous," she replied flatly, eyeing the ritual circle drawn in chalk. "What is this? A sacrificial séance?"
Alaric chuckled, undeterred. "This is the path to freedom. A release. Your past with Lucas has you tethered. I’m offering you the chance to let go."
"You’re offering manipulation," Ava retorted, stepping back. "I’m not stupid."
Alaric approached slowly. "The full moon draws near. Herod cannot unlock what you hold until you accept him. Until you relinquish the past."
"And you think this," she gestured to the circle and incense, "is going to make forget him?"
"I think it will start the unraveling," he said, stepping into her space. "Lucas Raventhorn cannot protect you anymore. But Herod can give you everything."
Ava stared up at him, her eyes flaring with a fire that refused to go out. "Everything," she repeated bitterly. "Except my heart."
Alaric paused, watching her. "You’ll see," he said at last. "We always break. One way or another."
Ava crossed her arms. "Try ."
Ava steeled her mind. Every cell in her body scread in resistance, but she knew what was coming. Alaric had made his intentions clear from the mont he dragged her into this cursed castle.
It didn’t matter. They could strip the mark off her skin, flay it down to the bone, and it still wouldn’t matter. Lucas was already inside her—in every heartbeat, every breath, every mory tucked in corners of her mind that even magic couldn’t reach.
"Breaking the mate bond changes nothing, Alaric!" she spat.
"I know," Alaric said softly, almost kindly.
Ava blinked, thrown by the casual cruelty in his tone. "Then what’s the point?"
Alaric’s lips curled into a smile that made her blood run cold. "Because I plan on removing all mories of Lucas along with the bond."
That shattered her. "No!" Ava scread. It ca out in a ragged cry, all pain and panic. She launched herself at the guards. She fought dirty.
She ran. But she didn’t make it far before iron grips caught her by the shoulders, slamming her down to her knees in the center of a cruel, chalky sigil. The very spot Alaric had drawn hours ago with disturbing glee. Her skin touched the symbols and sizzled faintly, a warning.
"Please, Alaric," she begged, desperation cracking her voice in half. "I beg you!"
But he didn’t stop. He didn’t even look at her. His lips moved in a slow, steady chant, old magic spilling into the room. His steps were asured, circling her.
Ava gasped, clutching at her head. She could feel the spell digging around in her mind. The warmth of his arms. The way he called her my little virgin. That crooked smile he tried to hide when he thought she wasn’t looking. It was slipping.
"No...no no no...STOP!" she scread.
And then—sothing inside her snapped.
Or perhaps it awoke.
She reached deep inside herself, past the fear, past the pain, past even the mories. She reached for sothing older. Sothing louder. Sothing divine. Her chest burned, light pouring through her ribs and flooding her skin.
Her voice bood through the room. "NO!"
It wasn’t a scream—it was a command. A roar forged from grief, rage, and sacred power. Her eyes flared gold, brighter than fire, deeper than any spell Alaric could conjure. The room went deathly still.
Then, one by one, everyone in it bowed.
Including Alaric.
Even the smug jerk fell to his knees, caught in the thrall of her voice, his mouth slack with surprise.
Ava rose.
No...she ascended.
Her body shimred, cloaked in a silver light that pulsed. She wasn’t just a woman anymore. She was moonlight given form, fire given grace. Her skin sparkled as if the stars themselves had gathered to armor her.
Alaric trembled, still kneeling, still stunned.
Ava looked down at him, hair floating as if weightless, her gaze colder than ice.
Alaric had always known Ava was powerful. He had read the ancient scrolls, listened to the hushed whispers of seers and mad oracles who spoke of his ancestor, a woman wrapped in silver light. He had known she carried divinity in her veins, but knowing sothing and witnessing it were two very different beasts.
He watched, mouth agape, as her body rose, aglow. Her command had brought them all to their knees with a single word. The spell had shattered, and Alaric truly believed he was in the presence of a goddess.
And then... just as quickly as she had risen, she crumpled. The glow vanished, her silver shimr fading to skin and bone. Her knees hit the cold floor first with a soft, dull sound, then the rest of her followed, folding into herself as exhaustion swallowed her whole.
Alaric exhaled, long and shaking. Relief mixed with a twisted admiration. "Even without the amulet..." he whispered, inching closer to her prone form, "you are divine."
But divinity had limits in a mortal shell. Her body couldn’t contain all that power—not yet.
And that was fine by him.
Because now she was helpless again, and he held the reins.
With a cruel gentleness, Alaric knelt beside her, brushing a sweaty strand of hair from her cheek with mock tenderness. "Such fire," he murmured. "But flas burn out, don’t they, goddess?"
(Okay! Let the encouragents roll in! I was sweating writing this! Gifts, golden tickets, power stones. keep it coming and maybe, I will publish more)
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