Lorraine’s POV
It was nightfall.
The sky above the Lycan territory bled into a velvet black, littered with shards of stars, and the castle, once majestic, now lood in the darkness like a beast in slumber. But it wasn’t asleep. It was poisoned. And we were walking straight into its jaws.
Kieran, his seven royal guards, and I moved like whispers through the forest trail, our footsteps muted against the mossy earth. We were heading toward a secret entrance hidden beneath the thick roots of an ancient tree just behind the western wing of the royal castle. Kieran said only those of royal blood, and those closest to them, knew it existed.
The mont we slipped through the narrow tunnel and erged into the castle’s lower halls, my breath caught.
I had never been to the Lycan territory before. All my life I’d heard tales of its grandeur, the palace carved from blackstone and shadow marble, the massive statues of the first Alpha King guarding the gates, the halls that pulsed with ancestral magic. I never thought my first visit would be like this.
Sneaking through its dark corridors. During a war. Beside Kieran Valerius Hunter.
To get the ghosthound queen.
Who would’ve ever thought?
We moved quickly but carefully. The hallway stretched like a black vein beneath the castle, cold and silent. Every step we took felt heavier. The deeper we went, the more I could feel the air thicken with the stench of bloodlust and corruption.
The Crimson Hunt had been here. Recently. Their energy was thick and wrong.
Just ahead, Kieran signaled for us to stop. He raised his hand in a sharp command, and we all pressed flat against the wall.
That’s when I heard the footsteps. Heavy. Rhythmic. Uniform
Crimson patrol.
They walked in pairs, armored, masked, and eerily silent, heading right past the hallway in front of us. My heart jumped into my throat.
Suddenly, I felt a sharp tug.
Kieran’s arm wrapped around my waist and yanked backward, pulling with him into the shadows of a narrow alcove. His body pressed close against mine, his chest rising and falling steadily behind , his hand covering the side of my waist as we both stilled.
I could hear the guards’ boots echo down the corridor. But I couldn’t think about them.
Because all I could feel was Kieran.
His scent. His warmth. His body.
Pressed against mine like nothing had ever changed.
My wolf went absolutely still inside , eyes glowing from within, watching him. I tried to slow my breathing, but I couldn’t. My chest rose too fast. My thoughts blurred.
I hated that he could still make feel like this.
After everything. After what he said. After how he hurt .
And yet... here I was... flushed, wild-eyed, and breathless because he held close.
Kieran lowered his head. I told myself it was to listen better to the rhythm of the patrol’s footsteps echoing through the hallway. That’s all.
But then I felt it.
His breath.
Warm and slow, brushing against my cheek like the whisper of a forbidden mory.
And my body reacted like it had no sha.
My breath hitched.
My legs trembled, useless and hollow beneath .
My stomach clenched so tight I could barely breathe, and heat flushed through in a rush that pooled low in my belly.
Goddess....
I could feel myself getting wet.
Seriously?
Right now?
I tried to remind myself of how he’d spoken down to . How he’d discarded like I was nothing. A feral. A nobody. A girl not worthy of even been in his presence
I should be disgusted. Furious. I was furious. My mind rembered, perfectly, but my body.... my stupid, reckless body seed to react even more now that he didn’t want .
Now that he treated like I didn’t matter.
And maybe.... maybe that was what made it worse. The ache. The longing. The way every breath between us felt like a curse wrapped in silk.
The footsteps faded.
The patrol passed.
And just like that, Kieran let go.
His warmth vanished. His touch disappeared. And without his arm around , I felt the weight of my own body all at once. My knees almost gave out.
I stumbled forward.
Damn it.
But before I could hit the floor, his hand caught again, around the waist. Firm and steady
"Are you good?" he asked.
But his voice..... it was cold. Empty. Like I was a stranger. Like none of our mories existed anymore. Like I didn’t an anything.
I straightened. Shrugged off his hand.
"I’m fine," I said, my voice sharp, my throat tighter than I wanted to admit.
I didn’t look at him as I pulled myself together, even though every cell in my body scread for to turn around and et those dark crimson eyes.
No. Not this ti.
I couldn’t keep falling apart because of him.
Not now.
Not when we were this deep in enemy territory.
Not when the Ghosthound Queen was just a few halls away.
Not when my soul still burned for revenge.
So I straightened myself and wr moved quietly down the corridor, the sound of our footsteps nothing but faint whispers against the stone floors. The royal castle was massive, cold, and sterile, its walls all looked the sa. Smooth grey stone, adorned with golden sconces that flickered dimly with enchanted light. Every hallway was a copy of the last, and the deeper we went, the more it felt like we were descending into the belly of sothing ancient and monstrous.
It was like a maze.
And I hated it.
Each turn brought with it the possibility of running into a Crimson patrol. Each step heightened my anxiety, and I could feel my wolf growling quietly in my chest, alert and watchful. I was trying to match Kieran’s pace, trying to look calm, but my nerves were rattling beneath my skin.
He never looked back.
Not once.
But sohow, I knew he was aware of every breath I took.
We walked for what felt like forever. Twisting corridors, concealed staircases, hidden passageways behind tall grandfather clocks and bookcases that opened with invisible triggers, it was like stepping into a different world. A world ant only for royalty.
And then, finally, we stopped.
At the end of a narrow hallway was a black tal door embedded into the wall like it didn’t belong there, sleek and modern, unlike everything else around us. The surface pulsed faintly with a red light. In the middle was a small biotric pad that glowed when we stepped closer.
"This is it," Kieran said, his voice low and unreadable.
I watched as he pressed his palm, no, his finger, against the scanner. The pad glowed brighter, then hissed. There was a deep click as unseen chanisms unlocked.
A cool gust of air hissed outward as the door slid open, revealing darkness beyond.
It wasn’t just a room.
It was a chamber.
Hidden. Ancient. Powerful.
The mont the door opened, I felt it, the weight of the energy inside. It pressed down on like invisible hands, like the room itself was alive and had just awakened after decadess of slumber.
Kieran stepped inside first.
My breath caught in my throat, my heart thudding louder with every step.
I followed Kieran closely into the dark chamber, the air so cold it felt like walking into a crypt. I expected to see her, the infamous Ghosthound Queen, strapped to a bed, wires and wolfsbane keeping her sedated. The stories I’ve heard these past few days has painted a vivid picture in my mind, and I braced myself for it.
But then...m Kieran stopped.
Dead in his tracks.
He didn’t say a word, but I saw his shoulders tense. Sothing was wrong.
My wolf bristled beneath my skin.
"Kieran?" I whispered.
He didn’t answer, so I stepped around him, and the mont I did, my heart dropped.
There was the tank of wolfsbane, tall and tallic, but the greenish liquid inside it had long since drained. Its pipes hung uselessly in the air, ant to lead to sothing, soone.
But they were attached to.... nothing.
The saline bag was empty. Bone dry.
The bed..... it was empty.
The straps that were supposed to bind her down were shredded at the ends, hanging off the bedfra like torn threads. The ECG monitor next to it had flatlined, the screen a thin green line with no pulse.
"She’s...." I whispered, swallowing hard, "She’s gone."
"She’s awake," Kieran muttered, voice grave. "The wolfsbane finished.... and she’s awake."
A soft hiss suddenly sliced through the silence behind us.
The chamber door had shut.
We turned too late.
Too late.
The sound ca first, slashes, lightning fast and vicious, followed by a tallic thud. And then ca the sll. Blood.
I turned, hand flying to my mouth to suppress a scream.
She stood just in front of the door
The Ghosthound Queen.
Long, black hair like a veil of shadows spilled down her back, matted and streaked with blood. Her white hospital gown was soaked crimson, sticking to her form like second skin. Her eyes, dear Goddess, were pits of utter darkness. Not just black.... but empty. Like staring into the abyss itself.
And in her hands....
She held two heads. One on each hand
Decapitated heads. Still bleeding.
The heads of two of the royal guards. Their bodies lay behind her, limbs twisted grotesquely, eyes wide in frozen terror.
The Ghosthound Queen tilted her head at us. Slowly. Animalistic.
And then she smiled.
A crooked, blood drenched, inhuman grin.
She took a step forward.
Then another.
And her muscles coiled, her claws twitching
She was about to launch... at us.
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