LOGINLysander’s POV "Get back from the window, Thalia," I commanded, my voice biting as I watched those crimson eyes fixate on my wife, as if the rest of the world had ceased to exist. "What is that?" Thalia didn't budge. Her eyes were glued to the gargantuan entity slowly manifesting from the black mist, its body towering three times the height of the largest warrior. "I don't know," I admitted, a rare confession of ignorance that tasted like ash. "But whatever it is, it’s not some garden-variety shadow summoned by a common sect." Raven sprinted back in, her face drawn, her breath coming in jagged gasps. "Sire, I can feel it from here. It’s an ancient presence. This isn't magic conjured overnight." "Explain," I demanded, though a cold dread was already settling in my gut. "It means someone has called upon something that should have remained long buried," Raven replied, her voice shaky as her fingers tightened around her blade. "Something even older than your blood contract, Si
Thalia's POV The black mist crawled like a living, sentient creature, oozing toward the obsidian gates with an unnatural speed that defied the laws of mere vapor. "How long until they hit the gates?" I asked, my voice sharper than I intended, the tension in the air making every nerve in my body hum with irritation. "Less than ten minutes, Your Majesty," Brandon replied. He was already clad in his full battle armor, his grip on the hilt of his sword so tight his knuckles were white as bone. Lysander stood beside me, his jaw a slab of granite. "Brandon, seal every outer gate. Pull all guards to the inner defensive line. I don’t want a single one of those shadows breaching the second wall." "Understood, Sire." Brandon bolted, his heavy boots echoing like gunfire against the stone corridor. I turned my gaze to Lysander, feeling the familiar prickle of resentment. "Do you truly believe sealing a gate will stop them?" "No," he answered with brutal honesty, his eyes locked on
Lysander’s POVI woke to an empty bed, and the immediate void sent my instincts into a jagged frenzy. I tore through the castle corridors, my Lycan senses tracking the faint, lingering scent of her—toward the eastern wing, toward Raven’s alchemy room. As I neared the heavy oak door, I heard Brandon’s voice, strained and frantic, and the words that made my blood run ice-cold. "...black witchcraft sect... a life of equal value..." I kicked the door off its hinges without knocking. Thalia stood in the center of the room, holding a letter with trembling fingers. Her skin was deathly pale, but her jaw was locked tight—the same frozen mask she had worn since the night she uncovered that journal. "What is that?" I hissed. Thalia looked up, her eyes meeting mine with that familiar, searing hatred—the same hatred that had never truly faded since she learned who I was. But beneath it, this time, was something else. A flicker of terror she was struggling to bury. "None of your busi
Thalia's POV The sharp, stinging scent of dried herbs and lavender oil greeted me as I slipped into Raven’s alchemy room before the sun had fully crested the horizon. My skin still felt scorched—the ghost of Lysander’s possessive grip from the night before lingered on my arms. I loathed the fact that I could still feel it, and I hated my own body for betraying me, for remembering his touch when my mind had sworn a blood oath never to forgive him. Focus, Thalia, I told myself. Do not get distracted. Not now. Raven looked up from her workbench, her frame still encased in partial armor despite the early hour. Her brows arched as she took in my appearance—my disheveled state and the burning rage still etched into my features. "The King doesn’t know you’re here, does he?" she asked. "He’s asleep," I bit out. "I need answers, Raven. No pleasantries." Raven set down her stone mortar, her expression instantly sharpening into one of wariness. "About what?" "His back," I said, m
Lysander’s POV Thalia had finally succumbed to exhaustion, her breathing settling into a rhythmic, steady flow. I stood before the massive, gilded mirror in the corner of the room, staring at my own reflection. The mark—the curse of the Blood Moon—was becoming angrier, redder, and more expansive. It felt as though a thousand scorching needles were piercing my spine every time the blood moon drew near. Why do I do all of this? The question haunted me. Why was I so obsessed that I had to orchestrate her very death? It all began eons before she was truly mine. In my first life, when I was nothing but a lonely, brooding Lycan King, I stood on the brink of total defeat in a great war. I lay severely wounded in the middle of a desolate forest, dying, stripped of all hope. That was when she—Thalia—appeared. She was no one then, merely a girl from a small village who had wandered off the path. She knew nothing of my status as a King. She only saw a dying man and helped me without a
Thalia's POV Beneath his possessive embrace, amidst the tangled silk sheets and the heavy, intoxicating scent of acacia wood saturating the air, I knew one thing for certain: I had chosen to remain in this cage of gold. It wasn't out of desire, and certainly not because I had forgiven him, but because I simply no longer possessed the strength to defy the gravity he had forged around me. I stared blankly at the dark ceiling, feeling the relentless thrum of his heart against my back. Every beat felt like a countdown, a cruel ticking clock measuring the fragments of my sanity that remained. "Are you still awake?" he whispered. His voice was a low, raspy rumble, laced with a smug satisfaction that made my stomach churn with nausea. "How could I possibly sleep after everything that happened?" I hissed, my voice tight. "You’ve shattered everything, Lysander. Do you truly believe that with this… this physical possession, you can just overwrite my past?" Lysander tightened his h
Thalia's POV The thick torrent of blood dripping from my chest struck the cold stone floor, instantly igniting the dormant, ancient blood magic runes carved into the labyrinth. I froze, staring down in absolute shock as the vibrant crimson fluid flowing from my body refused to simply puddle on
Thalia's POV The massive stone doors of the sacred temple’s underground labyrinth ground open, releasing a wave of freezing mist that reeked heavily of ancient blood. The agonizing screech of the scraping boulders echoed through the cavernous subterranean hall, sounding like the desperate scre
Thalia’s POVThe white silk dress Vance had sent felt like a cold shroud against my skin.In my first life, I had cried tears of joy while putting it on, foolishly believing it was a symbol of his devotion. Now, I knew the sickening truth. He had chosen this exact material because it was paper-thin
Thalia’s POVThe warm rush of my own blood coating my neck was the last thing I felt."Let her bleed out," a voice I knew all too well echoed through the freezing altar room. It sounded so calm. So effortless.It was Vance. My mate. My Alpha. The man who had held me every single night for three







