Page 24

TWENTY-FOUR

KAEL

K ael didn’t remember crossing the room.

One breath he was standing in the doorway, blade dripping after cutting through the other rogues that had came crashing into his own room, chest heaving. And the next, he had Selene in his arms.

She was shaking. Not from fear—no, not her. From power. From whatever the hell had just torn through the fabric of the world and made her glow like something ancient.

His fingers threaded through her hair. His grip was too tight, but he didn’t loosen it. He couldn’t.

“Selene,” he murmured, voice rough with something close to panic . “I’m here.”

She buried her face against his chest. Her skin was hot. Her breath, shallow. But she was alive .

The room was wrecked. Glass, blood, scorched stone. One body twitched on the floor. The others were gone—fled or dead.

He looked up and roared.

“Guards!”

Boots thundered seconds later.

Three soldiers burst into the room, followed by one of Nyra’s spies.

Kael didn’t stand. Didn’t move from her. He barked orders from the floor, voice cold and laced with command.

“Lock this wing down. Nobody in or out. I want a trail on every goddamn window, door, and rat hole. Find out how they got through the wards— now. ”

One guard hesitated.

Kael bared his teeth. “Do you need an escort to your job, or do I strip your colors myself?”

The man bolted.

Kael shifted Selene in his arms, rising to his feet. She groaned softly but didn’t protest.

“She needs a healer,” one soldier muttered.

“No,” Kael snapped. “She needs Nyra. ”

As if summoned, Nyra appeared in the hall like a shadow loosed from its tether. Her eyes landed on Selene and narrowed.

“What the fuck happened?”

Kael handed Selene into her arms only because she was the only other person on the mountain he trusted to carry her.

“Get her somewhere safe. Off the grid. I want your best trackers watching her door.”

Nyra nodded, surprisingly gentle as she wrapped Selene in a cloak. “And you?”

Kael’s jaw tightened. “I’m going to Father.”

He didn’t change. Didn’t wash the blood from his hands or the soot from his skin. Let Ruarc see the wreckage. Let him smell the magic that still clung to Kael’s clothes like a storm not quite done.

The guards at the High Chamber doors barely moved as he shoved them open.

Ruarc stood by the fire, dressed in black, eyes sharp with expectation. Always composed. Always waiting for a son who would never measure up to the throne already cut for him.

“Another attack,” Kael said without ceremony. “On her. ”

Ruarc turned. “I heard.”

“And?”

“And I take it she lived,” he said smoothly. “So the wards failed. As I warned they might. The castle is full of holes we inherited, Kael. This changes nothing.”

Kael’s voice turned to steel. “It changes everything. ”

His father raised a brow.

Kael stepped forward, every inch the future Alpha now.

“They were sent to kill her. Not delay her. Not frighten her. Kill. Inside our walls. Again. On the eve of a summit. During a political union that half this court already whispers against.”

Ruarc’s expression didn’t shift.

Kael stepped closer. “We stall the ceremony. We dig. We root out whoever let them in. Varyn or someone else. We finish this before we put her back on a stage and dare fate to aim again.”

Ruarc poured himself a drink.

“Do you know why your mother hated me, Kael?” he asked instead.

Kael’s hands curled at his sides. “Because you killed her freedom.”

“She said I was a man who saw the storm coming and still chose to march into it. That I was always waiting for the thunder and never dancing in the quiet before it.”

Ruarc looked at him now. Hard.

“She was right.”

Kael stared. “What the hell are you?—”

“You are the future of this court. And that girl is the keystone to the treaty. The magic flaring off her tonight? That was proof.” He glanced at Kael’s look of momentary surprise. “Ah, yes, I heard about that little show as well. She’s the hinge on which both realms will turn.”

Kael growled. “She is not a tool?—”

“She is the bridge! ” Ruarc roared suddenly, slamming the glass down. “And bridges don’t get to have fear. Or love. They hold weight. ”

Silence rang between them.

Rurac looked back at his glass before taking a sip. “The ceremony proceeds. Tomorrow.”

“No.” Kael’s voice was a weapon now. Flat. Final.

Ruarc blinked. “Excuse me?”

“I said no. ” Kael took a step closer, and his voice dropped. “You think chaining her down in front of this nest of vipers will unite them? It’ll paint a target on her back so big, even the Veil won’t protect her. That’s your legacy, Father. Weakness wrapped in ceremony. ”

Ruarc’s face didn’t change. But his hands clenched. “You’re not ready,” he said. “You never were. ”

Kael stepped forward, pulse pounding, voice low and venomous.

“Then strip my name from the title. But I will not drag her into a slaughter disguised as tradition.”

Ruarc didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

Then he nodded. And two guards stepped out of the shadows.

Kael stiffened. “What the fuck is this?”

“You’ll be detained,” Ruarc said coldly. “Until after the ceremony. You’ve proven you’re too compromised to lead.”

The guards advanced. Kael didn’t step back. But he did smile—sharp and slow. “You’re going to regret this,” he said.

Ruarc turned his back.

And Kael let the guards seize him, silent.

He didn’t struggle. Now he was really ready for war.