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This is all his plan. The Twilight will rule.

The Dawn is dead and gone.

T he mansion is falling apart, and Storm isn’t at my side. I hate running in the other direction from her, even if it’s what she wanted. If Storm had told me to leave with her, to abandon the fucking foolish Sun king, I would have without another thought. I don’t care what happens to the world as long as I have her. I never claimed to be a hero; fuck, I don’t want to be one. I want to be whatever she needs of me. I slow down as I get to the dungeons, which are shaking, and my guards have left to get their dragons. I never ordered them to stay if the war began, not to protect a vampyre, no matter who he is to my mate.

Mate. The animalistic side of me wants to grab Storm and fucking just leave with her. Let it all burn. It feels wrong about leaving her at all. Gritting my teeth, I unlock the door and step in, pushing the maddening thoughts of the vampyre royal prince getting anywhere near Storm when I’m not there. She has Maeve, and Maeve is not going down without a fucking fight. “Kyrell, we are being attacked and Story sent me. You need to run into the forest with the fae and get the fuck away from here. There is no side to this war where you’d be safe, but we both know my woman would fight them all for you.”

Kyrell doesn’t move from his bed as I unlock the bar lock, and the magic drops away with my touch. “Kyrell, I don’t have time for you to fuck about. Get up!”

He doesn’t move. Fuck it. I need to get on my dragon, and the door is open now. I did what Storm asked. I walk three steps before Kyrell moves around me in the blink of an eye, using his vampyre abilities, and blocks the door. Now he chooses to get up? He cocks his head to the side, his body shaking. “Where is Story Dehana?”

Something is wrong. “Getting her dragon. Where else would she be, Kyrell?” I can sense a change in him, and it’s the same one that was in the library. Whatever or whoever is possessing him is here, and Kyrell is not. “Whom am I speaking to?”

A big smile tilts his face up. “My name is Prince Emyr of the vampyre race, and I’m coming for you all. Story Dehana is mine.”

A fierce wave of destructive possessiveness washes over me at his claim. Like fuck she is.

I look into the eyes of the shit poor excuse of a man that caused my mate to be brought up as a slave, to be tortured and bitten, to have been used and broken. He nearly killed her before I could even meet her. “I’m coming for you, Prince, and I’ve dreamt of the pain I’m going to cause you. So get out of his body and back to wherever the fuck you are and come meet me in the sky. I’m not a scared woman you can beat and overpower. Neither is she anymore.” I smirk at him. “Story Dehana is a dragon rider and all fucking mine. Come for us. See what fucking happens to you.”

He snarls like an animal, snapping his fanged teeth at me, but he doesn’t make a move closer. He has some brains then. “No.” The room stills. “I know every inch of Story, inside and out, and I know this is her best friend who she is attached to. He died for her…and she won’t see us coming. I’m going to go and find Story in this body. She’s going to run up to me, happy to see her best friend, and then I’m going to sink my teeth into her neck and kill her.” I clench my fists. “I’ll bring her back as my bride, and she will be my queen forever. I knew when I met her, she had to be mine. I had this overwhelming desire to make her mine. My father called it an obsession, and he understood it. He said there was a name for it—mates.”

Fuck…no. I didn’t know that vampyres could have mates, but it makes sense they might be able to. I didn’t know it was even possible, but the way he’s speaking about her, the obsession, the need. Story doesn’t just have two mates, she has three. One from each of the dynasties, except for the one she comes from herself. He might be a vampyre, but he is a Dawn Dynasty royal through and through because of who his father is.

He’ll never stop until he has Story to himself, and I’ll never stop until he is dead.

Because she is mine, and there is nothing I wouldn’t do for her. Because I love her with every inch of who I am, and I know she won’t forgive me for this. I can’t let him leave. Kyrell asked me to do the unthinkable if he was ever a threat to Story because he loves her, too. I don’t want to do it. Killing people is easy for me. It’s never been an issue, but doing this…crossing this line? We might never get back from this. I wish I fucking didn’t have to do it, but I don’t see another option. He is fast, and even if I manage to get him back into the dungeons, the prince will use him to get to Story over and over.

Kyrell is her biggest threat because she loves him.

He runs, but I catch him with my magic, my silver shadows snapping out of the wall and clamping down on his legs and arms. My stomach turns to lead, and I cut off the part of me that feels, the part that is alive around my mate, as I betray her in the worst possible way. It’s for her own good.

I have to do this.

The fucker manages to break free of my shadows and run. I chase after him. Kyrell is weak because he’s barely been drinking the blood we’ve been giving him. That means he’s slow. It doesn’t take me long to track him in the forest, in a clearing of damp leaves and rocks, hunched over and breathless.

I walk up to him, and I don’t hesitate. I pour moonlight into his body, ripping him slowly apart with moon fire. He gasps, a silent scream in his mouth. His eyes completely change as he falls back onto the ground, and I crouch down, placing my hand on his shoulder. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry it ended like this for you.”

My moonlight is ripping him apart, tearing his soul from his body. Pure fire burning up his veins. I can’t save him, but I wouldn’t even if I could. He thinks of Story in his last moments, just like I would. He loves her like a brother, but me? I love her enough to do this terrible thing. “This proves to me you’re not selfish. You love her more than you want to keep her to yourself because, after this, she will hate you. Tell her the truth and that this is what I wanted. Maybe you are exactly what she needed to find, and you might get a chance. Thank you, King Ziven.” The idea of Story hating me again fills me with dread. Kyrell grabs my hand. “Tell her the truth about her mother. Tell her the truth about everything. No more lies.”

The moon fire creeps up his neck, and then his eyes glow with it. Burning silver flames. His hand drops from mine, and his entire body disintegrates into nothing but ash in my hand. I feel as dead as Kyrell as I look up and see Story standing there, shaking in the breeze, her soft red hair flowing around her, tears streaming down her face. Her pain is a stab to my chest. I did this.

Betrayal and hate is written across her face as clear as moonlight. “Did you just kill my best friend?”