Page 27 of Bound to Four Alphas (Silverthorn Alphas #1)

Ronan had never felt such instant, all-consuming rage.

There she was. His mate. Chained to an altar. Prepared for sacrifice.

A snarl tore from his throat.

The human whelp at least had the good sense to look terrified as he backed away, dagger trembling in his hand.

Phaendar, on the other hand, simply smirked. Phaendar was old. Arrogant.

He would regret his choice.

“Ronan,” Selena wept, pulling against the chains that held her, her silver eyes wild with fear.

He didn’t reply. He couldn’t bring himself to even speak, so forceful was his fury. His growls echoed from the stone, teeth bared and desperate to close around Phaendar’s throat.

He would paint the whole room in their blood.

“Father,” Elian’s voice was cold. Emotionless. Shadows swirled at his feet as he stepped out next to Ronan, the dark magic potent as it rolled off him in waves.

“Elian,” Phaendar replied. “Always so meddlesome. I told you once that this plan of yours was a fool’s game. It’s a shame you chose to disobey me.”

“What, you would kill your own heir?” Elian hissed.

Phaendar scoffed, “When I have the magic for myself, I won’t need an heir. I will be a God.”

“And what does your human tool think of that?” If Elian’s voice was ice, Kaelen’s was molten fire. He and Malek were circling around, testing their enemies’ resolve, looking for an entrance to get to Selena.

“You got in my way once, King of Embers, ” Damien spat. “You won’t this time. I’ll have power enough to crush your entire clan, wipe it to ashes.”

Selena sobbed at his words, thrashing harder. Phaendar and Damien were in front of her now, blocking her from view. Blocking Kaelen and Malek from getting closer. But Ronan could still smell her anger, her panic, her all-consuming terror. One wrong move, and Damien would kill her in front of them.

It was burning him alive.

“And what do you think of Damien’s plan to wipe out my people?” Kaelen growled at Phaendar. “After the dragons, what would stop him from coming after your people next?”

“A blood oath,” Phaendar said. “He is betrothed to—”

“To Caeda, yes, we figured that one out,” Elian said, twirling two blades in his hands. “Will you wait for a spring wedding? Or force her to the altar once you’re done here?”

“There will be no greater honor for her than to be my mate,” Damien gloated. “I will be one of the most powerful beings in the world. The heir to an Empire.”

Phaendar’s jaw worked, a flash of anger crossing his eyes.

It seemed this alliance was less than friendly.

“Your Empire ,” Selena spat, “is nothing but a regime of murderers and cowards.”

Pride welled in Ronan’s chest. His brave little mate had claws, after all.

Damien cocked an eyebrow. “You know, it really is such a shame you filthy creatures got to her before I did. She would have made such a pretty, obedient little mate.”

Ronan snarled, “Don’t you fucking talk about her like that.”

Damien laughed, high and thin, continuing as if Ronan hadn’t said a word, “It would have been a nuisance, don’t get me wrong. Having to bind her in magical chains and siphon her magic from her for the rest of her life. But it would have been worth it. And I’m not the only one who thought so, isn’t that right, Elian?”

Elian froze beside Ronan, a vicious growl erupting from his chest. “You found my notes.”

“Indeed I did,” Damien said. “It seems we found the same sources and drew the same conclusions. Bind her in silver chains and take her magic. She would be miserable, yes, but what would it matter? Imagine my surprise to find you hadn’t carried out the ritual, that you’d instead been protecting her.”

“Elian?” Kaelen’s voice was a mixture of anger and fear. Fear that Elian would ever, could ever, have considered hurting Selena. Ronan bared his teeth, unable to fathom such a thing.

“She’s my mate ,” Elian thundered. “Whatever research I carried out, whatever theories I explored, I knew from the moment I first saw her that I would never even dream of going through with them. There is a different sort of power in the magic that binds us together.”

“Is it because she fucked you?” A disgusting smile wormed its way onto Damien’s face, his lips peeling back to reveal his teeth. “I bet that was it. You got drunk on her pussy. I bet she moaned so prettily when you held her down and—”

Ronan didn’t see Malek move. One moment he was prowling by the wall, eyes sharp and teeth bared in anger, and the next he had lashed out with an almighty roar, slamming Damien back with a sickening crack. Damien slumped to the floor, blood welling from a cut on his head.

“I’d consider your next moves very carefully,” Phaendar’s words were like silk, but there was nothing elegant in the way he hunched over Selena, a blade to her terrified throat.

Malek whined in desperation, and Selena shook her head infinitesimally, her silver eyes wide with fear.

“Don’t be a fool, father,” Elian’s words, while icy, were tinged with panic.

“On the contrary, son,” Phaendar sneered, “I think perhaps you may want to rethink your loyalties. After all, without your research, we never would have been able to figure out how to perform the ritual. It would have taken us months—very uncomfortable months, for your little mate here.”

Kaelen snarled, his hands frozen over his curved blades.

“As a reward, I think it’s only fitting that I offer you a place here. By my side. I’ll even let you talk to your sister.”

Elian laughed, low and cruel. “Surely you don’t think I’m that stupid.”

Phaendar smiled. “It remains to be seen.”

Elian bolted forward, propelled by his magic, covering Selena in a protective layer of shadows before Phaendar’s knife could plunge down into her.

But the knife never came.

Ronan’s eyes widened.

Phaendar turned away from the altar, darting towards Damien.

Towards the crown that lay by his feet.

Ronan watched in horror as he placed it upon his head, hissing as the metal made contact with his skin, fusing with it.

“I’ve never actually tried this myself,” Phaendar said, his voice unnaturally still, his face contorted in pain. “Let’s see what power the old Forest God’s crown can command.”

Elian was the first to attack, sending wave after wave of blinding power towards his father.

Phaendar merely smirked, grasping the tendrils of magic in bone-white hands. Elian’s eyes widened in fear, and then he was on his knees, roaring in agony. His own magic was turned on him, trapping him.

Ronan prepared to strike, but Phaendar looked up and blinked, a silent wave of magic pulsating out.

And from every single decrepit entrance, window, and crack, fetid nightmares began to roll in.

Ronan leapt towards the altar before they could reach Selena, joining Kaelen and Malek as they fought the first wave.

But there were so many.

The walls of the old temple were crumbling under the claws and teeth of the nightmares spilling in, crushing under their weight. Soldiers followed, their spears wickedly sharp, their faces blank and emotionless.

All under the control of the crown.

Ronan tore his way through one of the remaining walls, reducing it to rubble, several nightmares screeching and crawling up his back. He turned and wrenched them off with his teeth, but there were so many. Too many.

“Why ally yourself with the humans,” Elian screamed, fighting with every last bit of energy he had, lashing against his constraints. “You had power enough! We have power enough!”

“You’ve always been insolent,” Phaendar snarled. “Why would I allow myself to wither and age, dying in the light of my pathetic son, when I can take all his power for myself?”

Elian roared, twisting and writhing, and Ronan bellowed. He tried to get closer, tried to help, but there were just too many damned shadows. He glanced over. Kaelen had taken to the skies, torching the city of tents around them, burning the human soldiers before they could get close. But they had coordinated, running to huge wooden machines, aiming them toward the sky and sending bolts of metal streaking towards him. They skimmed his sides, his wings, and he had to turn and thrash in the sky to avoid them.

Malek wasn’t faring much better. He was at the epicenter of a seething riot of nightmare creatures, ripping them apart with his teeth, black eyes completely lost to the beast within as he destroyed monster after monster.

But they just kept coming.

Ronan sprung free. Elian. He just had to get to Elian. Once the Fae was free his shadows could control the nightmares, defeat his father.

Phaendar glanced at him. It was all it took for the nightmares to release Malek and descend on him like an unholy plague of night. They blotted out the very sky as they surrounded him, claws ripping and teeth biting.

But Malek was free to slip through.

He heard Phaendar’s roar of anger as Malek slammed into him, scented the bloodlust from his packmate. There was a heavy thud and a cry of agony as Malek wrenched the crown from the Fae’s head, ripping it from his skin and dropping it to the floor.

Elian was released.

There was a pulse, a ripple of magic.

A breath.

The shadowy monsters melted away from Ronan’s form, writhing and hissing against their new master. Ronan struggled to his feet, swaying slightly and panting at the fresh bloom of wounds bare to the cold night. The monsters roiled over the ground like boiling oil.

Elian’s arms were stretched outwards, his face split in a silent scream at the effort of controlling so many of the shadowy monsters. Malek launched into the fray, snapping and killing any monsters in his path, desperate to help Elian. Kaelen attacked from the skies with renewed vigor, his fire roaring through the camp and occupying the human soldiers.

Ronan allowed himself a brief, tantalizing moment of victory.

But then there was a shout. Selena. She was yelling at Elian, twisting in panic.

Damien was staggering to his feet, crawling forward, the cut on his forehead oozing blood.

Ronan roared, leaping into action, barreling towards him. Desperate to stop the inevitable.

But he was too late.

Damien clasped the crown where it lay on the stone.

And placed it on his head.

The same, shrieking magic ripped through the air and roared through Ronan’s skull. The magic, once again abused and violated by a malicious wielder.

Damien’s eyes turned to Malek.

And Ronan was once more engulfed in a wave of nightmares and soldiers.