Celine POVQueen Nymia sits poised, her expression a mask of calm, but I can see the flicker of thought in her shimmering eyes. King Thorne leans forward slightly, his fingers steepled as he listens to the low murmurs of the council. They speak softly, their words almost inaudible, but the atmosphere is charged with their unspoken fears and what-ifs.Joseph remains kneeling, his shoulders hunched under the burden of his desperation. His golden eyes, filled with unshed tears, dart between the council and me, silently begging for salvation. Dolton stands at my side, his hand resting lightly on my back, grounding me, his quiet strength seeping into my trembling frame. Sebastian, as ever, is calm and composed, though the set of his jaw betrays his impatience.“I’ve never heard them deliberate this long,” Dolton murmurs beside me, his voice low, meant only for me. “They’re taking this seriously. That’s a good sign.”I nod, though I can’t shake the sinking weight in my chest. It’s not just
Celine POVThe stillness stretches on, each second heavier than the last, until finally, she nods—a slow, deliberate motion that feels like a judgment passed.“Very well,” she says, her tone regal and firm, yet tinged with reluctant acceptance. “We said we would grant you the flower, and we will but heed this, Celine—the weight of this decision is yours to bear. If you succeed, you will have our eternal gratitude. But if you fail, know that the lives lost and the chaos wrought will rest squarely on your shoulders. The blood of the innocent will stain your hands if the madness is not broken.”Her words land like a physical blow, cutting deep, but I hold my ground. My chin lifts, and I nod, meeting her challenge with steadfast determination. “I accept that responsibility,” I reply, my voice firm. “I will not fail.”Queen Nymia inclines her head, a gesture of acknowledgment tinged with finality, and motions to a fae attendant standing near the altar. The attendant, clad in flowing robes
Sebastian’s POVThere’s a shift between us, subtle but undeniable, and it gnaws at me. Celine is drifting further from me and closer to Dolton. On the surface, it feels like there’s no reason for it, but deep down, I know better. There is a reason—it’s me.Lately, I’ve been buried under the mountain of evidence we’ve gathered against the werewolf king. I’ve spent hours pouring over the details, dissecting every word, every scrap of information, trying to piece together a strategy. Meanwhile, Celine and Dolton have had all the time in the world to reconnect. I told myself I was giving her space to be with him, knowing how much she missed him. She spoke of him often before he joined us, and I could see the longing in her eyes whenever his name came up. So, I stepped back. I thought I was doing the right thing.But now, I fear I’ve pushed myself to the periphery of her world. I’m there at night—when we’re together—but even then, it’s not the same. Dolton is there too, and it doesn’t feel
Sebastian POVI feel like a teenager again, fumbling through the unfamiliar terrain of being with someone I care about. Celine leads me through the Fae Kingdom, her hand warm in mine, her steps light and carefree. The vibrant bustle of the marketplace surrounds us—the air filled with the scent of sweet blossoms, the hum of laughter, and the soft glow of bioluminescent plants. We stop at a small food truck tucked into a corner of the market, its modest appearance at odds with the grandeur of the kingdom around us.I watch as Celine chats animatedly with the vendor, her voice light and cheerful as she orders us burgers. It’s not the kind of food I’d normally go for—my meals are usually plated with a precision worthy of their exorbitant price tags—but there’s something refreshing about this. Something human.She hands me a burger, grinning, and we begin walking. The uneven cobblestone streets guide us past stalls overflowing with wares both mundane and magical. As we eat, she talks, her
Sebastian’s POVWe arrive back at the hotel, and I immediately notice Dolton’s absence. The guards at the door mention that he went out for a walk, which gives us time alone. My eyes instinctively drift toward the stack of files on the desk. The King in me itches to dive back into them, to continue piecing together the puzzle of the werewolf king’s crimes. But tonight, I push that impulse aside. It’s not the files or the investigation that needs my attention—it’s Celine.As I step into the living area, I see her curled up on the sofa, scrolling through movie options with a relaxed air. The glow of the screen lights her face, highlighting the soft, delicate features I’ve memorised but rarely take the time to fully appreciate. Her movements are unhurried, her body language serene, and for a moment, I simply stand there, taking her in.She looks up at me, her lips curving into a small, curious smile. I know she’s wondering what’s on my mind, why I’m standing there like a statue instead o
Sebastian POVAs we sit there together, I realise that this is what I’ve been missing. Not the grand gestures or the fiery passion—though those are important too—but the quiet moments. The stolen minutes where the world fades away, and it’s just us. Moments where I can let down my guard, not as a King or a protector, but as a man who loves her more than anything.She catches me watching her, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. I know I must look ridiculous, staring at her instead of the screen, but I can’t help it. There’s something about these quiet moments that feels more real, more precious, than anything else. It’s as if I’m seeing her for the first time, noticing every detail I’ve overlooked in my endless quest to protect and lead.She isn’t doing anything extraordinary—just watching a movie beside me. But for me, it’s everything. It’s the way her chest rises and falls with each breath, the slight adjustments she makes to get more comfortable, the way she sighs soft
Celine’s POVI’m still pressed against Sebastian’s chest when the door creaks open, and Dolton steps inside, his movements quiet but urgent.“The Fae’s Royal Guard is here,” he whispers, his voice strained, eyes darting back to the door as though expecting someone to burst through at any moment.Sebastian’s relaxed demeanor vanishes in an instant, replaced by the commanding presence of a King. He straightens, his tone sharp and composed. “Did they say why?”Dolton’s voice is barely above a whisper. “For Celine. Queen Nymia has requested her presence for supper and a discussion.” His gaze flicks to me, his concern evident in the tight line of his mouth.Sebastian and I exchange a glance, and we both move swiftly to get dressed, the urgency in the room palpable.Once we’re ready, Sebastian opens the door, revealing two Fae guards waiting just beyond. Their faces are unreadable, their postures straight and formal.“Queen Nymia has requested that Celine join her for supper,” one of the gu
Celine POVThe covers are worn, the edges frayed, and the pages yellowed with age. These books practically hum with latent power, and I can’t help but feel a spark of hope as I reach out to touch them.“These are from our ancestors,” Queen Nymia explains, her tone solemn. “Within these pages, you may find the key to breaking the curse of the mad wolves. But I must warn you, Celine—your journey will require all your strength. You must harness your power soon, or it may be too late.”Her voice is grave, and a chill runs down my spine. “Why?” I ask, struggling to keep my voice steady. “Why do you think I’ll need to act so quickly?”Her gaze meets mine, piercing and unflinching. “Because there is a dark energy that clings to you,” she says softly, yet her words strike like a thunderclap. “They cannot see it, and they cannot feel it. But I can. And I suspect, deep down, so can you.”A shiver courses through me. Dark energy? Her words stir something deep within me, a shadow I’ve refused to
CelineThe air in the great hall remains thick with unease long after the last ruler departs. Doubt lingers like a specter in the eyes of those who remain. I stand firm, unwilling to show weakness, but inside, my mind churns. The witches’ words haunt me, and the weight of leadership presses down with suffocating force.Before I can dwell on it further, a scout rushes into the hall, his breath ragged, eyes wide with urgency. “My Queen,” he says, bowing slightly, “our spies have returned with intelligence.”I motion for him to continue.“The witches have retreated,” he reports, voice strained. “They’ve taken refuge in an abandoned fortress, one that once belonged to the Werewolf King before he rose to power.”My stomach tightens. A place linked to the Werewolf King. That can’t be a coincidence. “Where?”The scout hesitates, then unfolds a rough map,
Celine POVAn unnatural chill settling over my skin like something unseen is watching me. I recognize the feeling instantly. They’re back.I don’t turn immediately. Instead, I steady myself, helping Dolton keep his footing as his body struggles to adjust. He’s weak but standing, his breathing uneven as he leans slightly against me. My pulse thrums, a sharp rhythm in my ears as I slowly lift my gaze toward the entrance.They step from the shadows as if they were never truly gone. The witches stand before me, their presence heavy with power, their dark robes pooling around them like moving ink. The older one smirks, eyes gleaming with something far too satisfied. His companion, younger but just as dangerous, watches me carefully. They are not here to fight, at least not yet.The older witch tilts his head slightly, considering me. “You’ve done well, Queen Goddess, but you should have left the sigil alone.”His voic
Celine POVI move deeper into the vault, the cold tightening around me like unseen hands pressing against my skin. The air is thick, heavy with an ancient weight, a presence that hums beneath the surface of reality. Every step echoes against the stone, the sound swallowed by the vast chamber stretching before me.The torches flicker wildly along the walls, casting distorted shadows that stretch and twist unnaturally. The entire chamber pulses with a slow, rhythmic energy, like a heartbeat buried beneath the earth. This place is alive.I take a steady breath, pushing forward. Shelves line the circular space, filled with tomes that have likely not been touched for centuries. The scent of dust and age clings to the air. Glass cases hold artifacts, relics of long-forgotten magic, their energy faint but steady. Scrolls, bound in twine, are stacked haphazardly across stone tables. There is so much knowledge here, so much power, but I do not have time to explore it. I
Sebastian POVI let Celine focus and walk away with Jonathan. The moment the heavy iron doors groan shut behind us, a tense silence falls over the hall. It lasts only a moment before the argument erupts.“I don’t believe it,” one of the remaining Bear Kings growls, his massive form radiating restrained fury. “That wasn’t our brother. I know him, and he would never stand with witches.”Aarmon, the Vampire King, stands unfazed, arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes gleam with irritation, but his voice remains calm, composed. “Then explain why he left with them,” he challenges. “Explain why he was the one to turn against us the moment the spell took hold. You want to chase a ghost, be my guest, but my concern is stopping the witches before they strike again.”The second Bear King slams a fist against the already fractured stone of the hall. “We have to find him. Whatever those bastards di
Celine POVKneeling beside the factured sigil, my hand hover over the smoldering bloo-forged markings. The air around it crackles with raw magic, thick and oppressive. It clings to my skin like an unseen force, trying to push my away. This sigil isn't just a spell, it's wound and carved deep into the foundation of this place pulsing with stolen power.It should have shattered when I attacked it, but instead, it lingers, a binding forged through blood. Exhaling, I force myself to think. If this was made with blood, there has to be a way that blood can unmake it. A sacrifice to balance the scales again.Without hesitation, I morph a hand into my dragon and drag a sharp edge of my nail across my palm, cutting deep enough for a thin line of crimson to well up. The moment my blood drips onto the sigil, a violent surge of energy explodes outward.Pain slashes through my palm as my hand is thrown back, the heat races up my arm like fire. I bite back a cry, my en
Jonathan POVCeline moves before anyone else, stepping toward the two remaining witches like a predator stalking prey. Her magic hums in the air, thick and volatile, coiling beneath her skin. The fractured sigil still smolders on the ground, its energy resisting its destruction, and Dolton remains motionless.Everything about this moment feels wrong.The older witch doesn’t flinch as Celine approaches, his expression eerily calm, as if he already knows how this ends. The younger one, however, shifts uneasily, eyes darting to the sigil before flicking toward the exit. He’s already calculating an escape, but he won’t make it.Celine halts a few feet from them, her voice sharp and commanding. “What did you do?”The taller witch exhales slowly, eyes still locked on the sigil instead of her. “It’s not broken,” he muses. “And it won’t be. Not unless you understand what you’re dealing with.”Her magic tightens around us, pressing against my skin like static before a storm. I take a slow step
Celine POVI take a slow breath, steadying myself as I prepare to break the sigil. My magic coils beneath my skin, simmering, but I force myself to stay in control. This isn’t about brute force. The sigil wasn’t just made to bind, it was made to resist. If I let my emotions control me, the magic will push back harder.I kneel beside the scorched markings, pressing my palms lightly against the fractured stone. The energy still lingers. I can feel the remnants of the blood magic woven into it, pulsing faintly, clinging to its purpose even as the spell itself begins to weaken.The magic fights me immediately.A sharp pulse of resistance presses back against my own power, like an invisible hand trying to shove me away. I grit my teeth and dig deeper, pushing my magic through the cracks in the spellwork. It twists and resists, writhing like a living thing, trying to close itself off.The air around me thickens. The sigil surges violently beneath my fingertips, a final attempt to hold its f
Celine POVA heavy silence fills the hall, thick with the scent of burnt magic and blood. My heart pounds as I stare at the fallen bodies around me, my mates lying still, their breathing steady but unnervingly shallow. I reach for the bond that should be connecting me to them, but the moment I try, a wall slams into me, severing the link. My stomach clenches, a cold sweat breaking out across my skin.The witches remain standing near the entrance, their cloaks shifting unnaturally, their presence distorting the air around them. They are waiting. Watching. Their faces are obscured, but I can feel their satisfaction, the weight of their amusement pressing against my skin like a cruel whisper.A sudden, ragged breath shatters the silence. The sound is unnatural, deep and slow, like a man coming back to life. I turn sharply, and my stomach twists as one of the Bear Kings sits up. His movements are fluid but wrong, like something wearing his skin rather than belonging to it. His shoulders r
Celine POVThe grand hall is warm with the glow of chandeliers, the candlelight flickering across polished stone walls. The scent of roasted meats, aged wine, and sweet spices fills the air, a stark contrast to the tension that lingers beneath the surface. Conversations weave through the room in polite murmurs, the occasional laughter breaking the stiffness that clings to the gathering. Despite the illusion of peace, I can’t shake the feeling of unease that coils tightly in my chest.Seated between Sebastian and Jonathan, with Dolton across from me, I force myself to appear at ease. Their presence should ground me, yet the weight of my vision refuses to leave me. The image of myself kneeling in chains before Gregory, powerless and at his mercy, claws at the edges of my mind. I can’t allow myself to dwell on it, not here, not now.Further down the table, the three Bear Kings eat in silence, their broad forms looming over their plates. They rarely speak, but their gazes scan the room wi