LOGINChapter One Hundred ThirteenHecate POVThe morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time.Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree.Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders, the
Chapter One Hundred ThirteenHecate POVThe morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time.Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree.Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders, the
Chapter One Hundred ThirteenHecate POVThe morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time.Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree.Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders, the
Chapter One Hundred ThirteenHecate POVThe morning light was pale and cold, filtering through the narrow windows of the castle's lower level. The air was crisp, carrying the scent of dew and distant woodsmoke, the kind of morning that felt like a fresh start even when the weight of the past pressed heavy on your shoulders. Hecate stood in the courtyard, her arms wrapped around Tori, holding her close for what might be the last time.Tori's body was warm against hers, familiar and solid, a reminder of all the years they had spent together. The years of hiding, of running, of surviving. The years when they had been each other's only comfort, only ally, only family. The years when the world had been against them, and they had clung to each other like the last two leaves on a dying tree.Hecate had treated Tori's wounds herself, applying salves and bandages to the raw marks on her wrists where the ropes had bitten. She had healed the cuts on her ankles, the bruises on her shoulders, the
Chapter One Hundred NineElsie POVThe bleachers were crowded, bodies pressed together on every side, the air thick with anticipation and the sharp scent of sweat and excitement. Elsie sat between her parents, her hands clasped tightly in her lap, her heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat. Beside her, Zuri sat with her back straight, her dark eyes fixed on the arena below, her hand resting on Elsie's knee beneath the folds of her gown.To anyone watching, they were simply mistress and maid. Close, perhaps, but nothing more. No one noticed the way Zuri's fingers curled around Elsie's, the way they held on to each other as if the world were about to end.Elsie's father, Alpha Garrath, sat on her left, his broad shoulders tense, his grey eyes scanning the crowd with the watchful alertness of a man who had learned long ago that danger could come from anywhere. Her mother, Nyra, sat on her right, her red hair hidden beneath a dark hood, her pale face unreadable. She had no
Chapter One Hundred SixThird POVThe dungeon was cold, the air thick with the smell of damp stone and rust. Torches flickered on the walls, casting dancing shadows across the room where Tori sat bound to a wooden chair. Her wrists were raw from the ropes, her ankle throbbing from the fall, but she held her head high, her dark eyes fixed on the king before her.Maddox paced the length of the room, his boots echoing on the stone, his golden eyes blazing with barely contained fury. He had been asking questions for what felt like hours, and Tori had given him nothing. Nothing but silence. Nothing but defiance."How are you still alive?" Maddox demanded, stopping before her. "How have you been hiding in my village for three years without anyone knowing?"Tori said nothing. She stared at the wall behind him, her expression blank."Where is Samantha?" His voice rose. "I know she is alive. I know she survived. Tell me where she is.""I have nothing to tell you," Tori said, her voice steady d
Samantha POVThe blade caught the light, and I knew I was going to die.Ranulf stood over me with the dagger raised, his grey eyes empty of anything but cold resolve. The guards held my arms pinned behind my back, their fingers digging into my wrists hard enough to leave bruises. I could not move.
Third POVThe throne room had never felt more like a cage.Maddox sat on the cold stone steps before his empty throne, his wrists bound in heavy iron chains that ran to anchors bolted into the floor. The silver in the metal bit into his skin, leaving welts that wept and healed and wept again. He h
Samantha POVThe cell was cold, but the wound on my wrist burned.I sat pressed into the farthest corner, my back against the damp stone, my knees drawn to my chest. The strip of fabric I had torn from the ragged shift they had thrown me was already soaked through, the dark stain spreading faster
Maddox moved through his private garden selecting dark crimson roses, wanting perfection for Samantha. The morning replayed in his mind, her laughter, their kiss, the bond surging between them. Anticipation filled his chest as he climbed to his chambers, bouquet raised like an offering. He pushed







