Nikita’s POVI stood in my father’s old office, my gaze fixed on Iian as he slowly read the letter from the Elders. The seconds felt like minutes, each tick of the clock dragging on endlessly as I waited for his verdict. Every now and then, his brow furrowed, and his lips twitched as though he was reading between the lines. It felt like the weight of the world was resting on his interpretation of that letter.When he finally set the letter down, he didn’t look at me immediately. He stared at it, and I could see his thoughts whirling around, struggling to find the words. Finally, he met my eyes, and the gravity of the situation seemed to settle between us."From my experience, Alpha, when the Elders call on you, it’s never a good thing," he said quietly, his voice tinged with concern.I stood tall, doing my best to mask my anxiety. "But what are they calling on me for?" I asked my voice tight, a mix of fear and confusion."I don’t know, Alpha, but they want all the kingdom’s records,"
Nikita's POVI had lost track of time, hours slipping by in the cold, damp dungeon. The walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the past bearing down on me. My hands had begun to shake as I flipped through the journals, each page revealing more of the atrocities I had committed under my father's orders. I could hear the distant echoes of footsteps, but I didn’t look up. My eyes stayed fixed on the words in front of me. The cruel reality of my past reflected on each page.As my eyes scanned the page, the images flashed through my mind like I was back there, reliving it all over again. I was fifteen. My father had sent me to a remote location, to a place where one of the alphas kept his bloodline hidden away. There were thirty children, all with royal bloodlines—kept hidden to protect them from threats. My father wanted me to kill them while they were awake, playing so he could make a statement.But I had convinced him that it would be much quicker if I went while they were
Nikitas pov I sat there, the journal trembling in my hands, as Rykor's presence hovered like a storm cloud ready to break. The air was thick with unspoken tension, a silent acknowledgment of the darkness that lingered within these stone walls. My father's last words echoed in my mind, unravelling decades of pain and regret that had been woven into the fabric of my existence."Nikita, are you ready for us to start taking the journals and having them loaded?" Iian's voice cut through the air, a gentle reminder that time was slipping away. I could see the worry etched in his face, a depth of concern that threatened to reach me through the steel-enforced walls I'd built around my heart.Before I could respond, Rykor's voice, full of urgency, interjected. "You can't let her do this, Nikita. The Elders will not be kind once they read all of this."The weight of Rykor’s plea pressed on me like a boulder teetering on the edge of a cliff. I met his gaze, holding my ground, not letting any sig
Nikitas pov As dawn began to drape the horizon with its gentle light, I found myself cloaked in solitude, nestled within the carriage that would escort me to the Elders' city. The rhythmic clatter of the wheels against the cobblestones was a soundtrack that matched the tumultuous cadence of my thoughts. I preferred to travel alone, with no guards, not even Iian by my side. This was a journey I had to undertake without them. After all, there was little sense in dragging others into the focal point of my fate—a fate heavy with the sins of my father.The outline of the Elders' city emerged intricately against the morning light. I clutched my father’s journal tightly under the folds of my cloak. Its presence was both a source of comfort and a haunting reminder of the legacy I had inherited. My father had managed to evade justice for the crimes he committed, shaping me into a creature burdened by the weight of his misdeeds. Yet, the irony remained—I would come to answer for his sins, to f
Nikitas pov I turned on my heel, and there he was—Yuri. His face had barely changed since the last time I saw him, the same predatory glint in his eyes, the same smirk poised to taunt. I felt my heart thud heavily against my chest, an instinctive response, a reminder of the hatred lying dormant but never forgotten."Yuri," I said, my voice carrying the chill of winter past. Just the sound of his name seemed to scrape against my soul, dredging up memories I'd fought to bury.He started toward me, his steps deliberate, eyes roving as though he were cataloguing every aspect of my discomfort. "This look suits you," he taunted, his gaze lingering on the iron kissed by the shadows of my cloak.A stirring of dread rippled through me, but I stood firm, defiance simmering beneath my skin. "I don't need my hands to kill you," I replied, each word tempered with steel.Instead of retreating, Yuri laughed, the sound echoing like shards of glass in the empty hall. "We've been here before, Nikita.
Rykors povAs I emerged from the carriage, the crisp coolness of Elder City enveloped me. My eyes immediately caught sight of another carriage, the insignia unmistakable. Nikita was already here. My heart sank. I had hoped to reach the Elders before her, to plead her case, to argue that her past did not define her future. Her father's sins should not be her shackles.Without wasting another moment, I strode towards her carriage. The driver, a grizzled man with weary eyes, acknowledged me with a nod. “Where is she?” I demanded, urgency slipping into my voice."In the council chamber," he replied. "Been there for hours. The Elders are not treating her well; it doesn’t bode well for her."My pulse quickened as I dashed up the stone steps, each one feeling like an eternity. When I burst through the heavy oak doors, my gaze immediately fell upon her. Nikita was seated on a rough wooden bench, her eyes cast downward, fixed on her cuffed hands. Her cloak covered her tremors of uncertainty, a
Nikita's POVThe iron cuffs, cold and unforgiving, chafed at my wrists as I sat in the dimly lit room. My eyes traced the intricate designs etched into the metal, memories of their purpose flooding my mind. The Elders’ guards had ushered Rykor away, putting him into another room. I wanted to ask him about the book he had given them; every journal besides the one that I had kept had already been given to the elders, so what was written in the one he had given them?Time crept forward like a burdensome fog, each second a haunting echo that seemed to stretch into eternity. The weight of my fate pressed heavily on me. I hated waiting, not knowing what was to become of me. Finally, after what felt like hours, the door creaked open, an Elder stepping forward. “Nikita,” his voice boomed. “We are ready for you now.”My heart raced as I stood and followed him down the corridor I wasn't scared, but I couldn't control it. Each step was a countdown to an uncertain destiny, the echoes in the hall
Nikita’s POV: "Very well then," his voice cut through the tension, rubbing the bridge of his nose with weariness. "Nikita Dalbullas, you have been called upon by the council to account for your actions and those of your fathers."I sat motionless, listening as he continued, the words like stones thrown into the quiet sea of the chamber."We have reviewed all your father's records," he said, anger shadowing his voice. “Alongside the documents presented today. There are reports from your own pack members listing the changes you have implemented. Yet…” He paused, looking directly at me, his eyes darkened with judgment. "The crimes you have committed are too severe to ignore. Despite the improvements in your leadership, you have continued to break our laws."The sudden creak of doors echoed through the room, and I turned instinctively. What I saw made my heart sink. Iian and other rogues I had welcomed into my pack were being forced into the room, iron shackles on their wrists, the clank
Nikitas Pov"Speak, then," I replied, crossing my arms defensively.His eyes, clouded with the weight of countless past grievances, met mine. I could see something akin to desperation—a vulnerability mirrored in an elder, a man traditionally emblematic of unshakeable resolve. There was a bottomless depth of weariness in his gaze that resonated with the part of me that understood the burden all too well."I'd much rather do this somewhere else," the Elder finally said, casting an uncomfortable glance around the grand but claustrophobic hall. His voice was low, carrying an urgency that piqued my curiosity despite myself.It was risky to leave the safety of the hall, yet inexplicably, I nodded, gesturing for him to follow through the labyrinthine corridors that led to my father's office. The walls bore silent witness to secrets long since buried—a skewed juxtaposition of the legacy I carried and the decisions I had to forge along the way.Stepping into the office felt like entering a tim
Nikitas PovI lay in bed, pretending to be asleep as the night slowly dragged on. Rykor sat in the chair beside me, his presence a silent sentinel against the darkness that threatened to consume me. There was a safety in his vigil, a protective weave of silent strength that should have been comforting. Yet, for the first time, I wished he would leave. I craved solitude, space to let the tears flow without witness, to crumble quietly without judgment. My soul ached with the desire to submit to my pain and reveal the true extent of my brokenness, but that would never be possible—not with Rykor here, steadfast and unyielding. I couldn’t share this weakness with him, for it would mean admitting defeat against the vile man who had dared to touch me.The memory of last night lingered like a shadow, clinging to my thoughts with cruel tenacity. I had always been aware of the world's darkness, but nothing had prepared me for the soul-deep violation the man forced upon me. As the first light of
The room was filled with a heavy silence, the weight of despair hanging in the air like a dense fog. Nikita now seemed like a shadow of herself, wrapped tightly in her own arms, as if trying to protect her fragile soul from further harm. Her vulnerability was achingly palpable, a stark contrast to the fierce leader she was known to be."Nikita," I whispered gently, not daring to reach out and touch her, though my heart ached to provide comfort. "I’m here."Her shoulders quivered, but she didn’t lift her head. The room fell into a deep hush as if echoing her unspoken pain. I stayed there, a silent sentinel by her side, my own heart breaking at the sight of her suffering.Words would be hollow, echoes in the wind, unable to banish the shadows that had wrapped themselves around her heart. So I just sat there praying that being there would be enough.Slowly, her tear-streaked eyes met mine, each glance like a sharp blade slicing through the emotional barricade that had built up around my
Rykors PovThe air was thick with a potent cocktail of fear and rage, and I had liked it momentarily as if the world knew something pivotal was about to transpire. I forced myself to focus, my senses sharpening like the instinctual keenness of a wolf in the hunt. The path to Nikita's kingdom stretched before me, each step purposeful and laden with an urgency that threatened to consume me.I couldn't let another day pass. The decision I had mulled over grew more resolute with every heartbeat, becoming a fire that was now wild and consuming in its intensity. The moon hung low, a sentinel watching over my advance. Its light illuminated the entrance to Nikita's grand palace.As I entered, I met Iian, emerging from the hall. Fatigue etched itself into the lines of his face, yet his smile remained steadfast and warm. "Alpha Rykor, good to see you," he greeted, strength lacing his voice. His eyes, though tired, still carried the patience and empathy of a trusted Beta he had shown himself to
Nikitas povMy heart clenched, even as I fought to maintain a semblance of control. A silhouette shifted in the corner of the room, separating itself from the shadows like a spectre called forth by some dark incantation. I held my ground as the figure coalesced into a man—a predator cloaked in darkness, his eyes gleaming with a malevolent purpose.With measured calm, I swung my legs out of bed, the cold floor grounding me against the tumult within. Standing, I faced him, embodying the deadly power that pulsed beneath my skin. I could unravel him instantly, but it was the excitement that throbbed within my curse that I feared. It yearned for connection, hungered for an end.The man stepped into the moonlight streaming through the window, his face poisonously serene. "All you had to do was give it to me," he drawled, his voice a sickly sweet melody that turned the air sour. "Perhaps you would've had a few more days on this pathetic earth, free from your curse, able to touch that patheti
Nikitas povThe dim warmth of my room was barely comforting against the chill that wrapped around my bones like a shroud. Weakness coursed through me, and every step felt like a battle of its own. My limbs trembled as though they fought a hidden adversary, an unseen force gnawing at the edges of my composure.Reaching my sanctuary, I leaned heavily against the door, drawing a shaky breath to regain some semblance of control. My gaze fell to the new marks on my skin—unmistakable evidence of the path I walked. They were dark, curling with an unsettling elegance across my forearms, yet these marks brought no pain. Instead, an uncanny tranquillity washed over me, a juxtaposition to the chaos I expected.Still, the memory of him lingered— the way my curse had filled with so much excitement the closer I got to him; the look in his eyes told me everything I needed to know. He was pure evil, wanting the curse for reasons I would never understand, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. It scared me h
Nikitas povThe dim light of early morning cast long shadows through the tall windows of my father’s office, and I sat alone at his desk, confronting the silence with an iron will. Exhaustion gnawed at the edges of my mind, a persistent ache growing stronger with each sleepless night spent grappling with the relentless curse within me. It had become a separate entity, living beneath my skin, whispering insidious thoughts of surrender and relief in the quiet moments between each breath. But none of that would deter me from my chosen path. I would not let it win; this curse died with me, even if that meant going through this pain for years.A soft knock interrupted the grim silence of the room. “Come in,” I managed, my voice barely above a weary whisper.The door creaked open, and disappointment flickered across my heart as I saw Iian step inside. How I wished it was Rykor—his presence was something I had craved since we last parted. Yet I reminded myself repeatedly that I had made peac
Rykor's POVThe air in the palace was thick with a heavy silence, broken only by the faint, haunting echo of my footfalls against the cold, stone floor. My heart felt heavy like it was trying to anchor me to the ground, pulling me into the depths of despair that threatened to swallow me whole. Returning to the palace hadn't been my intention, But where else was I meant to go? I couldn't run and hide forever.As I stepped through the ornate doors, the echo of voices pulled me from my thoughts. Up ahead, down the dimly lit corridor, I noticed Thorne leaning against the wall, his expression unreadable. I hesitated, torn between approaching or slipping by unnoticed. Thorne had always been more than a beta to me; he was a confidante, a brother in arms, yet a weight of unspoken words lay heavily between us.Just as I was about to pass, his voice cut through the silence, sharp and pointed. "You're being selfish, Rykor. If you truly loved her, you'd be there, helping and supporting her, not r
Rykors pov My fists pounded against the unrelenting rock, the sharp scent of my blood mixing with the brisk night air. Each strike jolted through me, a painful reminder of my grief, yet I embraced the pain willingly. Sweat and dirt smeared my skin, marking the gruelling hours I'd spent lost in an emotional storm of anger and sadness. My body ached for rest, but I couldn't listen to its demands. All I could see was Nikita's lifeless image haunting my thoughts.As the first light of dawn mingled with the night, her voice—impossibly real—whispered behind me. “Rykor.”I froze, my fists still clenched, caught in a moment of disbelief. Was this my mind's cruel trick? My arms fell, weighed down by exhaustion and an unwillingness to face what might be another figment of my delirium.She approached, the familiar sound of her footsteps almost comforting. Yet I couldn't turn around, fearful of the pain of seeing her again. If she was merely a ghost, I didn't want to know.“How did you find me?”