Page 46 of A Reign of Malice (Wolves of Lunara #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

SLOANE

S tanding back and letting Julian face Aeson alone was one of the hardest things I’ve ever done. Every instinct screamed at me to intervene, to protect him, to fight beside him. But this wasn’t just a battle. It was a reckoning. A full-circle moment only my mate could claim.

Aeson had imprisoned him, broken him, and stolen two centuries from him. Ending his brother wasn’t just justice. It was survival and reclamation.

All I could do was give Julian the space to take it back. Getting to stab that bastard myself was satisfying enough for me.

Even now that it’s all over, I still feel the echo of Julian’s final strike in my head. I still hear the crack of bone, the wet choke of that final breath, and the silence that followed. Heavy with everything we’ve lost and everything we now hope to build.

I get Julian up and away from Aeson’s tainted corpse, helping him down the corridor one agonizing step at a time. He’s bloody and barely upright, and I’m ready to take him to the first empty chamber I can find to let him rest for a few hours before we face whatever comes next.

But Julian has other plans.

“Do you have anything in this castle that’s important to you?” he asks, voice hoarse but laced with purpose as we make it to the landing.

“Nothing that’s not replaceable,” I answer, realizing I’d yet to bring anything of true value here from Alcaris.

He stops at the end of the corridor, blood dripping from his fingertips, and turns toward me. “Good.”

My brows lift. “Julian, what are you going to do?”

“I’m going to burn this place to the fucking ground,” he growls, jaw tight. “With Aeson still inside. He doesn’t get a funeral, no proper burial ceremony. Not even as Alpha King.”

I should feel something, give some sort of pause, but I don’t.

He’s right. Aeson doesn’t deserve firelight and reverence. He deserves to rot in the belly of his broken kingdom.

“As he shouldn’t.” Though, I do hold some reservations because Julian needs to know. “But we’ll have nowhere else to go. My kingdom…it’s not sustainable. That’s the only reason I was here.”

He halts, his hands rising to cup my face gently as if I were made of moonlight.

“Sloane,” he says, voice thick with emotion. “We don’t need this castle. We don’t need a throne made of stone and lies. We’ll build a new one. In the forest, in the dirt, in the stars—I don’t care where, as long as I have you.”

His eyes flick around the hallway, the blackened walls humming with the remnants of twisted magic and everything Aeson corrupted.

“This place is evil,” he mutters. “And I won’t let it have you or us. You deserve better. ”

I press my forehead to his, tears stinging the edges of my vision. “ We deserve better.”

He kisses me passionately, a promise in the shape of lips, then he whispers, “So let’s burn it all down.”

A strange thrill coils low in my stomach, anticipation stirring beneath the bone-deep exhaustion. I loop my arm around his waist and help him toward the front doors. The ruin behind us might have once been called a home, but it never felt like one. Not to either of us.

Clara and Noen meet us in the entryway, both bloodied but still standing. Though, their faces say enough. This war wasn’t without its cost.

“What can we do?” Noen asks, his tone clipped, already bracing for orders.

“Find me matches,” Julian replies, groaning softly as I force him into one of the foyer chairs. He sinks into it like every muscle in his body has decided to mutiny.

Clara doesn’t ask why. Of course she doesn’t. The world’s best advisor is already halfway down the corridor, her movements purposeful and swift.

I kneel before Julian, inspecting the damage he’s trying too hard to hide. The wounds are already starting to knit back together, but what catches my attention is what’s not there. No burns or scarring from touching Aeson’s blood.

He should have been marked the same way I was.

I open my mouth to ask about it, but Clara’s already returned, a small box clutched in her hands.

“What are we burning?” she asks casually, like she’s inquiring about dinner.

Julian’s voice is rough, low. “The whole fucking castle.”

Clara’s brows lift, but she doesn’t argue. She only glances at me for confirmation.

“Mind if I run to my room first?” she asks .

“Not at all.” I nod toward the box in her hands. “Take those with you. When you’re done, light a few fires up there.”

“Where’s Aeson’s body?” Noen cuts in, voice like iron.

“Dining hall, back that way,” I say with a nod toward the corridor.

He grabs a few of the matches from Clara, giving her a quick kiss before turning for the hallway. “I’ll start there.”

I glance at Julian. “Are you okay with that?”

“As long as his corpse burns, I don’t care who starts the fire.”

He’s grumpy, beyond tired, and still bleeding a little. The adrenaline has faded, leaving behind weariness and lingering fury. I don’t push him. He’s earned the right to be whatever he wants.

Once Noen heads toward the dining hall and Clara goes up the stairs, I encourage Julian to stay in the chair. “I know how strong you are, but I’m not. Will you please stay with me?”

He softens instantly. “I’m sorry, Sloane.”

I grab his hand as we settle. “You have nothing to apologize for. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m going to be okay. We both are.”

His promise rings true, but that doesn’t mean I’m okay with seeing him hurt.

We remain silent for several minutes, both of us seeming to reflect on the evening, but our rest is cut short.

The other royals walk through the shattered front doors.

Estee. Theo. Isla. Asher. They’re battered but upright, each bearing the look of warriors who’ve seen the cost of battle. It’s all over their faces. The grief, pride, and relief.

“Elyn is here,” Estee says first, her voice quieter than usual. “She wants to speak with you two. But she refuses to step foot inside this place. ”

“Smart choice,” Julian says as he pushes himself back up, slow but steady. “It won’t exist much longer.”

Isla and Estee both look at me with raised brows. I don’t explain. Not yet.

“Tell her we’ll be out in just a moment,” I reply.

Asher steps further in, glancing around. “Do you need help?”

“Fires are already roaring upstairs,” Clara calls as she appears at the last landing above the stairs, now with two boxes in her arms, smoke trailing her from the hall she just exited.

“Doesn’t seem like it,” Julian says, dragging a hand through his hair. He takes a fresh handful of matches from Clara once she rejoins us and strides to the curtains lining the grand windows.

No one speaks as we watch him move, measured and deliberate. The matches flare to life in his hand then vanish into the fabric, igniting the drapes in a wave of flames. The tapestries follow. Then the furniture, one piece at a time.

There’s something sacred in the silence. A shared understanding.

This is an ending.

Noen returns not long after, streaked with soot but smiling grimly. “Dining hall and a few other rooms along the way have been handled.”

The fire is everywhere now, roaring up the stairwell, devouring every inch of Aeson’s legacy.

Orange. Gold. Blue. Black smoke curling through the rafters like a curse exorcised.

The heat builds and a wall behind us groans as if the castle itself rises in protest. Its bones cry out, mourning the death of a kingdom that never should have come to be.

Julian returns to my side, sweat dripping down his temple, eyes locked on the inferno behind us. “Let’s go. ”

We step into the night just as a stairwell crumbles inside. The flames consume what’s left of our past, the smoke rising to the stars above us like a funeral pyre lit for every soul Aeson ever wronged.

The air is thick with ash, heat, and vengeance, but at the same time, it’s also fresh, like Venaris being reborn.

Julian’s hand finds mine, rough and warm. We don’t look back.

Still, our night isn’t over.

Elyn waits for us somewhere out here, and I don’t presume it’s for anything good after the way we departed the god realm.

“We’re going to go check on the wounded,” Theo announces with Estee tucked into his side.

I nod respectfully. “Thank you. And if anyone asks or seems unhappy, let them know that no decisions need to be made tonight, but the pack members are welcome to leave Venaris of their own free will. We won’t keep anyone who doesn’t want to be here.”

Isla reaches for my shoulder. “We’ll welcome anyone we need to. Everyone will have a home and then we can begin working together like we always should have been.”

Nothing has ever sounded better to me.

The four of them go off, but Clara and Noen linger.

“You don’t have to watch my every move,” I say. “The war is over.”

She grins widely. “And you have your mate. I know. Old habits are hard to break. I’ll go check on our pack.”

“Thank you.”

She hugs me, almost tight enough to make me wince but then pulls back and winks at Julian. “Don’t burn anything else down without me.”

“Or me,” a welcome and familiar voice says .

We turn to find Garron approaching us. He’s limping and there’s blood on his clothes, but he’s alive and that’s most important.

He glances at the burning castle. “Nice touch. I assume you left Aeson in there?”

“He doesn’t deserve a proper burial,” Julian replies gruffly.

Garron shakes his head. “No, he doesn’t. Did you at least let his advisor live?”

The reminder of Dasha has unexpected emotions rising within me. I didn’t know her, I didn’t even really care for her demeanor, but I understood her. She was doing the best she could given the circumstances, and I can’t fault her for that. She also didn’t deserve to die for her choices either.

“Aeson killed her when she tried to stop him from attacking me,” I say solemnly.

“Well, at least they’ll be together,” Garron says, confusing me until he adds, “I was here to deliver a message from her brother. He didn’t make it either.”

I lightly shudder. So many lives lost for such a selfish man.