LOGINZephyr's POV
Kill her. The voice in my head was cold and clear. Not my voice and never my voice. Kill her before she destroys everything. I stood in the shadows of the east corridor, watching Cax walk toward the servants' quarters. Watching him go to her. Our mate. My mate. No, not yours. Never yours. The voice was getting louder. It always got louder when I was near her. When I thought about her. When I felt the bond pulling at me like a rope tied around my ribs. I pressed my hands against my temples, trying to push it back. Trying to silence it. It didn't work. It never worked. You know what she is. The Prophecy Child, the one with violet blood. She'll ruin everything, she'll break the plan and she'll expose you. "Shut up," I whispered into the darkness. "Shut up, shut up, shut up." But I couldn't make it stop. Because part of me knew it was right. I wasn't supposed to be here. Wasn't supposed to be one of the triplets. I was supposed to be a weapon. A spy. A tool for the Sylvan agents to use against this palace, against this pack. They'd put something inside me when I was young. I didn't remember when. Didn't remember how. But I knew it was there. A second soul, a second voice and one that didn't belong to me. And now that voice wanted my mate dead. I started walking. Not toward the servants' quarters, away from it. Toward the restricted wing where Dr. Elara kept her research. The Sylvan soul pushed me forward. Made my feet move even though I wanted to stop. Wanted to turn around. Wanted to go to Ava and protect her from everything, including myself. She's dangerous, she'll sense what you are, she'll tell them and she'll destroy you. "She won't," I said out loud. My voice sounded strange. Broken. "She doesn't even know I exist." That's good. Keep it that way. Get what we came for and leave. I reached the door to Dr. Elara's lab. My hands knew the code without me thinking about it. The Sylvan soul had memorized it weeks ago, waiting for the right moment. This was the right moment. While everyone was distracted. While my brothers were focused on the new mate. The door opened. The lab was dark and empty. Dr. Elara was gone for the night, meeting with contacts in the city. The Sylvan soul had made sure of that too. I walked to the locked cabinet in the back. Inside were samples. Blood samples. All different colors and types, collected over years of research. But there was only one I needed. The violet one. My hand reached for the cabinet lock. The Sylvan soul guided me, showed me exactly how to pick it. I'd done this before. Stolen things before. I was good at it. The lock clicked open. Inside, in a small glass vial, was a drop of violet blood. Old blood. Ancient blood. Dr. Elara had been studying it for years, trying to understand its power. Take it. Now. I reached for the vial. My hand stopped halfway. No. This was wrong. This was my mate's blood. Her bloodline. Her power. I couldn't steal from her. Couldn't betray her. Not when she'd just arrived. Not when she needed protection. Take it or I'll make you take it. Pain exploded in my skull. The Sylvan soul was fighting me, pushing against my mind, trying to take full control. I stumbled back from the cabinet, gasping. My vision blurred. For a moment I saw double. Saw the world through two different sets of eyes. One set wanted to protect Ava. Wanted to love her. Wanted to claim her and keep her safe forever. The other set wanted her dead. "No," I growled. "You can't have her. You can't touch her." She'll destroy us both. Don't you see? The prophecy says the violet blood will end the old order. That means us. That means the Sylvan plan. That means everything we've worked for. "I don't care about your plan." I grabbed the vial anyway, but not to take it. To protect it. "I care about her." Fool. You think you can love her? You think she'd want you if she knew what you really are? A spy. A traitor. A monster with two souls fighting for control. The words hit hard because they were true. Ava would never accept me if she knew. She'd run. She'd be terrified. She'd tell Ryker and Cax and they'd kill me for being a threat. But I didn't care. I put the vial back in the cabinet and locked it. The Sylvan soul screamed in fury, sending waves of pain through my head. I left the lab quickly, my whole body shaking. The bond pulled at me. Called to me. Begged me to go to her. I wanted to. More than anything, I wanted to see her. To touch her. To tell her that I'd protect her no matter what. But I couldn't. Because I wasn't sure which soul would be in control when I got there. I made it to the servants' quarters anyway. My feet carried me there without permission. I stood outside her door, listening to Cax's voice inside. Listening to her scared breathing. Cax would leave soon. Then she'd be alone. Then I could watch over her. Just watch. Just make sure she was safe. The Sylvan soul fought me with every step. Tried to make me turn around. Tried to make me stay away. But for once, my soul was stronger. I waited in the shadows until Cax left, looking frustrated and hurt. He walked past me without seeing me. I was good at hiding. Always had been. Then I slipped into her room. She was asleep. Curled up small in her bed, her face still wet with tears. My chest ached looking at her. She was so beautiful, so fragile. Mine, my soul whispered. Ours. No and not ours. Kill her. End this now before it's too late. I reached out slowly. My hand trembled as it got closer to her face. I just wanted to touch her once. Just once. To feel the bond. To feel real. My fingers were an inch from her cheek when the Sylvan soul ripped control away from me. I jerked back violently, slamming my fist into the wall. The sound was loud. Ava stirred but didn't wake. I backed toward the door, fighting myself. Fighting the war inside my own head. Get out. Leave. Don't come back. But I didn't want to leave, I wanted to stay and wanted to protect her. You can't protect her from yourself. I left before I could do something terrible. Before the wrong soul won. In the hallway, I pressed my back against the wall and tried to breathe.ZEPHYR’S POVThe medical wing was silent, and the smell of antiseptic and cold stone was sharp in the air. I sat on the edge of the examination table, the thin paper gown crinkling every time I breathed. Ava was still sitting in the chair across from me, and the way she looked at me was enough to make both of my souls go perfectly quiet. There were no more files to hide, no more missions to fulfill, and no more lies to tell."It knows," I said, my voice sounding hollow in the small room, "the Sylvan soul knows I’ve chosen you, and it’s fighting the realization every single second."Ava stood up slowly and walked over to me. She didn't look at the paper gown or the clinical setting, she just looked at me. She reached out and touched my hand, her skin warm against mine, and the bond between us flared with a soft, steady heat that didn't feel like a weapon. It felt like an anchor."I’m tired of the secrets, Zephyr," she whispered, stepping into the space between my knees, "I’m tired of e
Zephyr's POVThe doctor's name was Aldric and he had been the palace's medical authority for fourteen years and he had, in that time, encountered enough unusual situations that his face had developed a professional neutrality that I suspected was now permanent.He listened to everything without that face changing once.I told him about the Sylvan soul first, when it had arrived, which was the part I had the least clear memory of because I had been twelve and the process had been presented to me as something else entirely, a strength enhancement, a gift, the kind of language people used when they wanted compliance from someone young enough not to know what questions to ask.Aldric wrote something down. "You were aware of the second soul's presence from the beginning?""From within a few weeks," I said, "it wasn't immediate, it settled in gradually and then it was just there, the way something is there when you don't have a before to compare it to.""And the communication between souls,
Cax's POV"We need to go inside," I said.Nobody moved immediately, which was understandable given what had just been said in this garden and the specific weight of it pressing down on everyone present, but understandable was not the same as useful and I needed people moving."Ryker," I said, and he turned and looked at me and I held his gaze for a moment and something passed between us that was thirty years old and did not require words, the specific communication of two people who had been in crisis together enough times to know which one of them needed to be moving and which one needed a moment.He nodded once, which meant he had found his footing, and he turned to Ryder."You're going back to your room," he said, and his voice was back to its usual register, controlled and flat and carrying the specific quality that meant the statement was not an invitation to discuss alternatives. "Under guard. The same guard as before plus two."Ryder looked at him for a moment and then looked a
Ryker's POVI came through the garden entrance ninety seconds after Zephyr and read the scene in the time it took to cross from the gate to the fountain.Ryder standing near the bench with the expression of someone who had just detonated something and was watching the radius with interest, the specific satisfaction of a man who had released information and was observing its effects, which told me the information had been significant and the effects were visible.Zephyr standing very still with his hands at his sides and his face doing something I had never seen his face do before, not the shifting quality of the two souls and not the controlled blankness he used when he was managing something large, something that had come before both of those, something underneath the architecture, a look that required no interpretation because it was too fundamental to need any.And Ava, looking at Zephyr, with an expression that was not anger.I had seen her angry, the specific quality of her anger
Ava's POVI stood in the garden and said nothing for a long time.The fountain was frozen beside me and the night was cold and Ryder was standing four feet away having just said something that my brain was turning over and over the way you turned over something sharp, carefully and from multiple angles, trying to understand its shape before you decided what to do with it.Staged.Forced."Who," I said.He looked at me steadily. "I don't know the full picture.""That's not an answer.""It's the honest one," he said, and something about the way he said it was different from every other time I had heard him speak, stripped of the register he used when he was managing a room or performing authority, just words, flat and without ornament. "A threat was made. Not against me, against you specifically. I was told that if the bond was publicly claimed, if you were acknowledged as my mate, you would be killed." He paused. "The rejection was supposed to protect you."I looked at him.I looked at
Ryder's POVThe eastern garden was exactly as I remembered it.I had been here before, eleven years ago when the borders were different and the Iron-Claw Kingdom was still in its first generation of Triplet rule and diplomatic visits between pack leaders had a different quality to them, less formal, more about establishing whether the new rulers were worth taking seriously, and I had walked these paths in a different context with a different purpose and had noted, the way I noted everything, the specific layout of the space and the positions that offered sight lines without exposure.The corner bench near the frozen fountain was one of them, and I had been watching it from the shadow of the east wall for forty minutes before she appeared.She came over the low wall between the garden and the servants' wing path, dropping quietly, landing without sound, and I watched her move across the gravel toward the bench with the careful deliberate movement of someone who had checked for guards a







