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[ELARA] I dismount from the horse and land firmly on my feet. Magnus looks at me and nods, signaling for me to follow him. We’re away from the palace, about half a mile away, I presume, as I look back at it from a distance. We walk a few steps, surrounded by trees so high that I crane my neck trying to find their crowns. Night is starting to fall, the sky taking on a sinister shade of gray streaked with red. We stop at a lone hut standing upright in a clearing. It’s too small to contain anything significant inside. But when Magnus actually throws the door open, I see a trapdoor in the floor. It opens with a creak, revealing a series of stairs. I follow Magnus quietly, too intrigued to speak. It’s not long before we’re faced with a weird-looking door. Morgana is the first person I spot when the intricate locks on the gilded door click and twist, before it swings backward to reveal what I presume is a witch’s den. I wonder how long she has been staying here to set up all of this.
[ELARA] When I open my eyes, it takes me a moment to remember where I am, which tells me how well I slept. I don’t know what brought me comfort—whether it was the satisfaction I felt for doing right by Beatrice, or having my wolf back in talking terms with me, or thinking that my husband isn’t a heartless man after all. Seeing that side of Magnus, soft and vulnerable, has definitely changed the dynamics between us. And after the words exchanged between us yesterday, I can only hope he’ll be up for talking rather than have me guess his thoughts. His words ring back in my ears: Step one foot out of the line and you’ll find yourself entangled in courtly politics, and soon you’ll be a pawn in their game ready for disposal whenever needed. Is that really what’s going down behind the friendly faces I’ve come across the court? They have never been friendly to me, of course. I’m a stranger, unwelcome and not up to the standards they’re used to. But there’s always a general state of calmne
[MAGNUS] ‘Fuck you, Magnus.’ I can’t get it out of my head. I just can’t. The council meeting has been going on for the last few minutes, but I find myself zoning out every few seconds. My mind keeps recalling Elara’s reaction when she entered my chamber earlier this morning. While Morgana was riding on top of me. Nothing could’ve prepared me for that. Not for when she entered. And definitely not for how she reacted. ‘Fuck you, Magnus,’ she mumbled, her voice too quiet due to the shock. After that she sprinted out and I haven’t seen her since—she wasn’t in my old chambers, or with Ruelle. That’s probably a good thing because I don’t know what I’m going to say to her. Morgana laughed about it; somehow it aroused her further. But there was no way I was going to continue. I asked her to leave right then—the disappointment on her face was something I couldn’t miss. Alistair is not at fault, I knew that before he even tried to explain himself. Elara is stubborn. She’ll do what
[ELARA] Pain shoots up my arm and reaches my skull the moment Alec’s fangs pierce the flesh there. It’s excruciating and I’m thrown back by the impact, knocked off my feet as a reaction to it. I bite on my teeth so I don’t scream. I don’t want to alert the guards. They could hurt him. They could kill him when they see the bite mark on my arm. Even though his arms sear as they try to reach me through the silver bars, he doesn’t stop. Alec wants me dead; I can see the murderous look in his eyes. Just a moment ago, I was hoping there was nothing holding us apart, but now I can’t be more grateful for those silver bars. He tricked me into thinking he was harmless… until I extended my arm inside the cell to touch his cheek. And then he came at me, like he had done inside the tent. Furious like a beast. My arm begins to throb, the flesh starting to turn a shade of reddish-black as blood trickles down to the muddy ground at an alarming rate. Lila’s panic is mingled with mine. But he
[ELARA] According to Morgana, if I stay awake during the extraction procedure, I will likely lose my mind from the pain. So she suggests I be put into a dreamy sleep, induced by the sap of some wildflower. Lila requests me to listen to her this one time, but I refuse the suggestion and let Morgana begin. But the moment she cuts the blade through my arm, I let out a scream so loud, my ears deafen momentarily. I see Magnus shut his eyes, a groan leaving his lips. “Put her to sleep,” he commands her. Despite the fury I feel, I don’t object. The sap is thick—pricking bits of my tongue as I gulp it down. A moment passes before my mouth begins numbing. Morgana comes closer once again, blade in her hand. As the procedure begins, I feel myself slipping into the familiar realm of dreams. It's as though my consciousness is divided, stuck between the reality of Morgana's lair and the vivid dreamscape that unfolds before me. In the dream
[MAGNUS] Tonight is a night for nightmares. Everytime I close my eyes, the faces of all those I’ve lost come to me. Nyra with her dark skin and a smile for which men would give up their kingdoms. My father, his eyes filled with shock and betrayal as the guillotine separates his head from his body. My mother, with my name on her lips, as her golden eyes close and she abandons me forever. During nights such as these, I remember just how utterly alone and miserable I am. How, for a long time, I haven’t known happiness or peace. How I’ve been struggling, and how long I will struggle for until I’ve avenged it all. And after I’ve pitied myself and thought of it all, the one question that rises in my mind and always breaks me. Will it be worth anything? Given I’ve lost everything, and the only thing I hope to win at the end of it all is a kingdom. Something I’ve never desired. And of course, revenge against my uncle, Eldric Blackwell. That’s the only thing that keeps me going. Even
[MAGNUS] As I make my way to the council chamber, my footsteps become heavier. It hasn’t really struck me yet that Kian is gone. That he’s dead. I should be relieved that my contender for the throne is put down. But I feel a sense of loss. After all, he was my kin. But now Eldric has no choice but to announce me as heir. Unless he thinks of doing something absolutely crazy. Could he get rid of Queen Seraphina and marry a younger woman? Seraphina had trouble bearing children; when Kian finally came out of her, he was frail and sick. No one believed he would make it. But he grew up to be a strong alpha werewolf, proving that the blood of the Luna coursed through him. A part of me can’t help but think of the love Eldric feels for his wife. Despite all the cruelty he put me through, he was always kind to her and to his kid—spoiling them with affection. A life that he took away from me by being responsible for the death of my own father and mother. And there returns my anger. Alist
[ELARA]‘I can’t sense his wolf,’ Lila tells me the moment I open my eyes. My chest feels empty and burdened at the same time as I get on my feet—realizing only a moment later that I’m in Magnus’ room. The memories of the previous night come flooding into my mind. “Alec,” I whisper his name as tears roll down my cheeks. He doesn’t remember me. He has lost his memory. “You slept well,” Magnus’ cool voice strikes my ears. I didn’t notice that he was in the same room. He walks to me leisurely from a dark corner of the chamber, his golden eyes appearing dark in the scant light of the morning. He looks more formally dressed than usual; even a dull gray tunic makes him look regal. I notice the wolves embroidered into the sleeves of his tunic with black thread. Lila says again, ‘I can’t sense Alec’s wolf.’“Where are you going?” Magnus asks as I put one step in front of the other and head to the exit of the chamber. Wiping the tears from my cheeks, I straighten my dress. I’m starting t
Days turn into weeks. The journey to Tassel stretches on endlessly, a procession of dust, silence, and heavy skies. We take stops at manors, and the great halls of Lord and Ladies who host us, entertain us, and offer us their finest wines and elaborate meals.Magnus surprises me. I had not thought he would agree to be anyone’s guest, least of all on this journey. Yet, each time we halt at one of these estates, he assumes his role as though he was born for it.It is at the third manor, the estate of Lord Carin, that I finally see why.The great hall is awash in golden light from the hearth, the warm air mingling with the scent of roasted meats and spiced wine. Magnus stands at the head of the table, his presence demanding as he speaks. His voice carries across the room.“You underestimate the resilience of the southern provinces, my lord,” Magnus remarks with a curt nod. “A drought may cripple their harvests, but their ingenuity will see them through. Did you not hear of the irrigation
We’ve been exiled.The words play over and over in my mind. Exiled. Not banished, not ousted, but a carefully chosen word designed to cloak humiliation with civility. Perhaps the phrase 'we’ve been kicked out of the palace' would have been more honest. Magnus would never utter it aloud, though. Pride runs through him like marrow through bone.Everything happens in a rush after the announcement — a frantic blur of bustling servants, hastily packed trunks, and clipped whispers that dart through the corridors like rats. I barely recall how I was swept into the palanquin, a gilded cage draped in deep velvet curtains and stuffed with feathered pillows meant to soften the blow of our fall from grace. It fails. No amount of luxury can soothe the sting of what this means — what this is.Lady Celia refuses to appear. She locks herself in her chambers and does not even bid us farewell. Whether her silence is born of anger over Ruelle’s escape or of grief over our collective disgrace, I cannot s
[ELARA]When I blink my eyes open, a cold, sharp pain greets me like an unwelcome guest that has overstayed its visit. It’s the kind of ache that feels as though it’s always been there, settling deep in the marrow of my bones. A phantom sensation of suffering, both distant and immediate.This is rebirth, is the first coherent thought in my fractured mind. I was dead. But now, I’m not.The second thought strikes harder, cutting through the haze: Magnus is my mate.I try to rise, but the room spins violently, and a hiss escapes my lips. The pain is cold and numbing, seeping under my skin like ice. It’s there but not there, agonizing yet strangely soothing. My body feels foreign, as if I’m inhabiting a vessel I don’t entirely recognize.A soft hand presses down on my forehead, gentle but firm. “Oh, you’re awake.”The voice is familiar, and yet it feels like hearing it from underwater. Daphne?Caelondor. I’m in Caelondor.Confusion rolls in waves, mixing with the relentless dizziness. How
[MAGNUS]Zander’s fear is obvious as I step closer. Even here, in Morgana’s lair with its strange, flickering candlelight despite the absence of wind, his wide eyes and stiff shoulders give him away. He knows I’m not a friend. We’ve never pretended otherwise. Betrayal, rivalry, disdain — we’ve shared all these openly, and now, as he sits on the bench looking healthier than he has in days, I can see the question in his eyes. Why would I save him? Why a friendly smile?I don’t think he even considers that him being brought here has anything to do with Elara. To him, she is nothing. Just someone he can discard and torment to his pleasure. Someone he can threaten to poison another just so her father could be safe. “Alpha Zander,” I call out again, forcing my voice to sound calm, friendly. “Or should I call you former Alpha?”His shoulders twitch, a reflex he can’t hide. Good. I need him on edge, need him angry and distracted. That’s when people are easiest to control.He doesn’t reply, hi
Content Warning: Gore. [MAGNUS]The little time that Zander has spent locked up in the Torturer’s Cave has done enough damage. When I find his cell, he’s frail — appearing half his weight, still screaming although his voice has become croaked. The runes glow a fiery red etched along the silver bars of the cell — doing their job of tormenting the prisoner within. I’ve heard it makes you relive your worst memories on repeat. With a hope that every time the outcomes will be different — a loved one might be saved, a crime might not be committed, but it all ends the same. With utmost misery. Zander doesn’t seem to hear our footsteps as we approach. Doesn’t even hear the conversation I have with the guard who refuses to unlock the cell. Doesn’t notice how the guard suddenly complies when Morgana meets his eyes, taken by a trance. And how the other guard tries to stop him, until he too is enchanted. The Alpha of Mistral Hollow. Let me correct myself: the former Alpha of Mistral Hollow is b
[MAGNUS]“Stay with me.”It’s a plea more than anything. I can’t bear the thought of losing Elara. The thought of her dying because I began to care for her. There’s no way to draw out the silver faster. It can take days… weeks.Silver. The most potent weapon to kill our kind. An silver tipped arrow lodged into her chest, just inches away from her heart. She could’ve been dead. But she isn’t. There has to be some purpose to this, right? Another cruel fate woven by the Moon Goddess?The healers know nothing. Rather, they know little of this. Their abilities are limited to what is approved by nature. What is permitted to be done within the confines of Caelondor. But Morgana? She can dive into alchemy, drawn upon dark magic — magic that saved Elara from becoming a rogue. She can take my blood again. Goddess, she can take my life if it means saving Elara’s.I’m about to go looking for Morgana when she appears at the edge of the bed. Not as herself, but as Talisa. But the glimmer of red in
[MAGNUS]“To the Royal Annoyance (my beloved brother), Magnus,Summer in Qaiven is brutal. I don’t know why I thought coming here was a good idea… Hold on, I’m only jesting! I have almost made up my mind to never leave. This place is wonderful just as you described from your varied visits for the Grand Conclave. And no, I’m not talking of the observatories of alchemists, or the quiet art galleries you love! The port of Vynov is certainly the grandest — the one in Caelondor pales shamefully in comparison. The streets are filled with people from all over the continent! Can you believe, I’ve already made friends with a High Lady who runs a brothel? Oh, Magnus. Unsaddle your horse. Of course, that is a jest, too. Your goons are keeping me perfectly safe from any danger that could be lurking. Frankly, the idea of never coming back to Caelondor is tempting. But so is the urge to bring you a barrel of blueberries only to see you scowl. Can you please start liking them? They’re the loveliest
[MAGNUS]Every single pair of eyes in the council room is fixed on me. This isn’t the first time I’ve been a subject of their collective gazes, but this is clearly the first time I’ve cowered under it. I keep my head bowed low, projecting the emotion I feel — heartbreak for Ruelle’s betrayal and disappointment in my inability to find her. But this won’t support my claim — the claim I’ve put forward in front of the council. “They were attacked in the woods, and Ruelle was taken away.”I should be angry, aggravated, thrashing anything and everything in my way. I should be making statements of how I’ll make those who took her suffer. Anything to make my words more believable. Anything for Eldric to believe that Ruelle didn’t run away to escape her marriage. But I fail. I fail to grasp control of my own actions, of my movements. The mate bond pulls strongly at me, and I grit my teeth, holding back the pain Elara is suffering that I now experience too. The questions that trickle into m
[MAGNUS]Everything happens in a haze. One moment I’m standing too confused on all fours wondering what odd twist of fate has occurred and how I find myself with a mate once again — the mate being Elara, of all people. And the next, all the air has been emptied from my lungs as I watch the arrow hiss through the air and lodge into her wolf form’s neck. As she collapses to the ground, her body shifts back into her human form. When I reach her, I’m human once again — not even realizing when the command reverberated through my mind. Blood trickles down her skin, pooling at her collarbone, as I hold her up in my lap. Creed howls at the pain his mate is experiencing but I’m too shocked, too numb to do anything. “Elara,” her name finally escapes my lips in a choked whisper. “Elara, please…”My hand hovers over the wound, but I’m not even sure what to do. She’s dying, I think as I press down gently, desperate to stop the flow, but it only seeps through my fingers.I try to breathe, but th