CHAPTER 79 Lianna: Edward’s words stayed with me, settling deep in my chest like an anchor I couldn’t shake off. "I will do everything in my power to make sure he never takes you from me." I wanted to trust in that promise. But fear was an insidious thing, creeping through the cracks of my resolve, whispering doubts in my ear. Ethan wasn’t the kind of man to let go. He had never been. And now, with the bond still lingering between us, no matter how much I tried to sever it, I knew he wouldn’t stop. The mere thought of him made my stomach tighten. Once, I had given him everything—my love, my devotion, my future. When I learned he was my mate, I thought it was fate rewarding me, sealing our love in the most sacred way possible. I had seen a lifetime with him. A home, children, happiness. I had been naive. Loving Ethan had cost me everything—my dignity, my happiness, my sense of self. I had spent months trying to rebuild what he had broken, and even now, I
*CHAPTER 80* Lianna: The moment I stepped out of the North Wing, my eyes landed on Edward. He was pacing near the stone archway leading to the training grounds, his hands clenched at his sides, his entire body wound tight with tension. The fading sunlight caught in his dark hair, making it look almost bronze in the dim glow, but there was nothing warm about the way he moved—sharp, rigid steps, jaw locked in frustration. Then he saw me. His shoulders dropped slightly, relief flashing across his face for a fleeting second before something else took over—something darker. He was angry. I barely had time to take another step before he was striding toward me. “Why were you in Ethan’s wing?” His voice was tight, controlled, but I could hear the fury simmering just beneath the surface. I shrugged, unwilling to feed into whatever argument he was ready to start. “I went to speak to him.” H
*CHAPTER 81* Edward: The moment I heard the warrior’s ragged breathing, saw the bloodied cloth wrapped tightly around his arm, I knew something had gone terribly wrong. I had been ready to go after Lianna, scolding Ingrid for allowing her to ride off alone, when Harvey and one of the guards staggered in, half-carrying an injured man between them. His face was pale, his skin slick with sweat, and despite the rough bandaging, crimson still seeped through the layers, dripping onto the marble floor. I turned away from Ingrid, heart pounding. “What happened?” Harvey’s jaw clenched as he eased the man onto a bench in the corridor. “Another attack. A trading route near the eastern border. The same vampires as before.” I inhaled sharply. I could feel my pulse hammering in my temples as I turned away, running a hand over my mouth. Lianna. She had just returned from Ethan’s wing, stubborn and furious, and now she had gone riding alone—without a guard, without
*CHAPTER 82* Lianna: I couldn’t even bear to look at myself. The guilt, the crushing weight of the consequences—I couldn’t breathe under it. I pulled away from Edward, my chest tight, my heart pounding as if it might shatter at any moment. My hands shook as I turned and hurried down the dark hall. I didn’t want him to see me like this, I didn’t want anyone to see me. Each breath felt like it might be my last. The air was thick, suffocating, and I couldn’t push the images of destruction from my mind. People—lives—would be lost, all because of me. Because I refused to go back to Ethan. I stumbled into my room and shut the door behind me, my back hitting against the door as I took a deep exhale. I was filled with despair as I collapsed to the floor, my knees hitting the cold marble. My body shook violently, and I tried to take a deep breath, but it only made the panic worse. My hands clenched into fists against the floor, the texture of the rug beneath me grounding me for
*CHAPTER 83* Edward: The moment my eyes opened, I knew exactly where I needed to be. Lianna. I pushed off the heavy blankets and rose from my bed, my muscles stiff from restless sleep—or the lack of it. The air was cool, carrying the crisp scent of dawn through the slightly open window. But something felt off. A strange unease settled in my chest, gnawing at me like an unseen force urging me to move faster. I didn't hesitate. Barefoot and still half-dressed, I crossed the hall and knocked on Lianna’s door. The sharp sound echoed through the quiet corridor. I waited, expecting her voice, a muffled “Come in” or at least some movement inside. Nothing. I knocked again, harder this time. Still nothing. A cold weight settled in my gut as I pushed the door open. The hinges creaked, the dim morning light spilling into the room. It was empty. My pulse quickened. I stepped inside, scanning the space for any sign of her. The bed was unmade, the blankets ta
*CHAPTER 84* Edward: By the time I stormed into my study, I felt like I had been possessed by a manic spirit. My blood ran too hot, my head pounded with the force of my own thoughts, and my body was tight with the kind of tension that made men reckless. I shut the door harder than necessary, the sound echoing in the dimly lit room. My breath came fast, ragged. I didn't care about the war. I didn't care about the army that had spent years training, the warriors putting their lives on the line, or the land we were supposed to be protecting. None of it mattered. Because Lianna had gone back to him. I gritted my teeth as I shoved a stack of papers off my desk. They scattered across the floor, but I didn't stop there. My hand slammed against the wooden surface, hard enough to make my writing materials rattle. I wanted to break something. I needed to break something. The rage inside me burned too violently to be contained. She was mine to protect. She had always
*CHAPTER 85* Lianna: I was restless. So fucking restless. Every breath I took felt heavier than the last, thick with guilt and uncertainty. My body was tense, my hands curled into trembling fists as I stood frozen in my room, replaying everything over and over. The war. The lives lost. The people who had suffered—all because of me. The door creaked open, and I barely flinched when Imogen walked in. She looked angry. Hell, livid. “Tell me you’re not actually going back to him.” she asked, her dark eyes burning into mine. I swallowed, avoiding her gaze. “You wouldn’t understand.” That was the wrong thing to say. Imogen let out a sharp, bitter laugh before shaking her head, her expression twisting in disbelief. “I wouldn’t understand?” Her voice cracked, her body visibly shaking. “I was there, helping you pick pieces of yourself while you grieved! I saw what he did to you!” She was right. She had been there. She had seen it all. And that made this even worse.
*CHAPTER 86* Lianna: The war had taken everything and it wasn't even the end. Each day, more lives were lost, more bodies burned, more homes reduced to nothing but ashes. The scent of blood never truly left the air, and every night, Imogen whispered horrors from the battlefield—wolves torn apart, warriors barely making it back alive, and the silence of those who never returned at all. And damn, it broke me. It fucking broke me to the point where I walked around, bathing in nothing but guilt. I had tried to hold on, to tell myself there was another way, but the truth was suffocating. The war wasn’t ending. It was only growing worse. And Edward… He had been nothing if not absent. After that night—the night I kissed him, the night I let my heart betray my mind—I never saw him again. And even when I did, he was always running, barking out orders while looking like this was the last place he wanted to be, always moving, always slipping through my fingers like sand
Lianna: I woke him with a kiss. It was gentle and slow, the kind that lingered on his lips like sunlight brushing the edge of dawn. His skin was warm beneath mine, soft and familiar. He stirred slowly, lashes fluttering like leaves catching the breeze before his eyes opened, that drowsy gray haze still clinging to them. “Is it time?” he murmured, his voice low and hoarse with sleep. It was the kind of voice that made it feel like the world was still paused for us. I nodded, fingers brushing back the strands of hair that had fallen over his forehead. “Yeah. It's time.” He sighed, sitting up reluctantly. I could tell his body felt heavier than usual—grief had a weight all on its own. Still, he moved, slow but sure, like he owed it to himself to keep going. I slid off the bed to help him, but the rug betrayed me. My heel caught on the edge and I pitched forward with a sharp gasp. And just b
Lianna: The Palace was too quiet. That kind of quiet that sat thick on the skin like humidity before a storm, smothering and heavy, as if the very walls were mourning. The corridors were dimly lit, the sun long gone, and I could hear the distant creak of wooden beams settling overhead, slow and reluctant, like the house itself didn’t want to exist in this version of our reality. Edward hadn’t said a word in hours. He lay curled on his side, one arm slung carelessly over the edge of the bed, his knuckles pale against the white linen. His lashes fluttered occasionally like he was trapped somewhere between sleep and waking. Sometimes he’d blink open his eyes and just stare blankly at the ceiling, unmoving, unblinking, lost in a place I couldn’t reach. I sat behind him, cross-legged, one hand tracing slow circles along his back. His shirt had ridden up, exposing the bare slope of his waist. The skin there was cool, soft beneath my fingertips, marred only by the faint scar
Lianna: The morning light was shy, barely bleeding through the velvet curtains when I cracked my eyes open. I didn’t need a clock to know what day it was. My chest already felt like it was caving in. The air hung heavy, saturated with that stale chill that often preceded sorrow. A mourning fog rolled outside our window like some prophetic omen, brushing ghostlike tendrils across the glass. Edward hadn’t moved beside me. His breath rose and fell in shallow waves, his hand still loosely curled around mine like he feared I’d disappear in my sleep. I shifted slowly, brushing a thumb over his knuckles. We were going to banish his brother. I sat up and pulled the duvet around me, the fabric swishing softly against my bare skin. My toes hit the floor with a shiver, the marble tiles beneath me as merciless as the decisions we had to make today. My robe hung at the edge of the armchair, still draped from the night before. I sl
Freya: The night felt too loud for how quiet it was. Crickets whined in the grass like tiny, angry violins, and the wind kept slipping through the cracked wooden shutters, brushing cool air against my bare arms like an unwelcome ghost. I was lying in the dark, staring at the ceiling like it held the answers I’d been chasing in circles. My bed creaked with the slightest shift, the old mattress groaning beneath the weight of my body. I shouldn't have come back here. I shouldn’t have returned to this house. I shouldn’t have ever listened to her. My chest ached. That tight, slow burn of regret that started somewhere beneath my ribs and dragged itself up to my throat like it had claws. I reached up and rubbed the heel of my palm against my eyes, trying to stop the tears that had already found their way to my pillow. My face was warm, wet. I could taste salt. My breath shuddered on the exhale. “I didn’t want this,” I whispered into the room, voice barely audible over
Edward: The eggs Tarantino made were, as he warned me, an absolute disaster. But the bread was warm, and it was good enough to make me forget about the burnt rubber taste of the eggs. We ate in silence, only the scraping of silverware and the occasional sip of coffee filling the air. My mind wasn’t exactly on the food anyway; it was stuck on the conversation we’d had earlier. Tarantino was right, of course. Everything happens for a reason. I could hear the words repeating in my head, like a stubborn echo bouncing off the walls. But as much as I wanted to believe him, that sentiment did nothing to ease the weight in my chest. Nothing could change the fact that I was sending my brother into exile, to a life without the Pack, without me, without any of the privileges that came with being a royal. But I couldn’t just let the sorrow flood over me, not in front of Tarantino. Not in front of the only person who still seemed to see me for more than just my title. So I swallowe
Edward: The drive was long, and Harvey wouldn’t stop humming that off-key tune under his breath like he was trying to win some invisible award for irritation. I didn’t say anything because well, silence stretching between us felt safer than opening my mouth and letting all the tangled thoughts spill out. My jaw ached from clenching it too tight. My nails had dug half-moons into my palm by the time we pulled into the small, quiet Pack territory that felt like the world had forgotten it. “I remember this place being a dusty excuse of a town,” I muttered, eyes flicking over the paved roads and fresh buildings. “Now look at it. They have actual sidewalks. I should’ve sent Ethan here for humility training.” Harvey chuckled but didn’t comment. Smart choice. It’d been years since I last came here. I was just a boy, clinging to my father’s hand while he laughed and pointed at the bakery with the awful scones and the house with the broken weather vane that somehow never got
Lianna: The palace had never been this quiet. Not even during the former Alpha's father’s funeral, when the halls were draped in black silk and everyone spoke in whispers like mourning had a volume limit. No. This silence was different. It hung in the air like a mist, curling around the columns, sliding under doors, seeping into my skin like cold. I sat on the balcony, elbows on the marble balustrade, chin resting against the back of my hand. My eyes drifted somewhere beyond the courtyard, past the rustling hedges and the guards stationed like statues, to a place I couldn’t name. The sky was pale and slow today, the clouds dragging their feet like even they couldn’t be bothered to hurry. A soft breeze combed through my hair, lifting strands across my face, and I didn’t bother to tuck them behind my ear. Ingrid was beside me, her legs propped up on the ornate table, scrolling through her phone like it held the cure to this numbness
Ethan: The moment Edward’s footsteps faded from the dungeon, I felt my chest constrict. I was alone. And not in the usual way where I sought solitude; this time, I felt like I was suffocating. I collapsed to my knees, the cold, damp floor seeping through the thin fabric of my clothes, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. My tears came in torrents, hot and bitter, an unforgiving reminder of everything I had lost, everything I had thrown away. There was no one left to blame but myself. I didn’t even care how pathetic I looked at this moment. All I wanted was the sting of reality to fade, even if only for a second so I could catch a sense of monetary relief. The memories of my life before all this pain before Freya, before Lianna, before the twisted path I had walked flashed through my mind like a parade of ghosts. I remembered how everything had been so simple back then. It was supposed to be me and Lianna, always. We had a bond, a bond that nothing could break, or so
Edward: The echo of my boots against the marble hallway was all I could hear as I stepped out of the study, my hand still clenched from how tightly I’d been gripping the edge of the desk moments ago. My jaw ached from how tightly I was clenching it, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not now. I told myself I wasn’t going to interfere. I promised Lianna I wouldn’t. But promises made in the eye of a storm rarely stand when the wind changes. And gods, it changed. The moment the elders started screaming over each other like a pack of senile hounds, all clamoring for blood, I had to shut them up. I didn’t even remember raising my voice until the silence hit. Until they all turned to me, and I, like a damn fool, spoke the decree. Now my baby brother would be banished to the Drekavac Hollow, and somehow, my voice had sealed it. The air grew colder the deeper I went, but I barely noticed. My fingers brushed the stone walls out of