Page 11

A Heart Laid Bare

RONAN

R akan's howl cuts through the night like a blade, raw with warning and fear. I'm moving before the sound fades, my body shifting even as I run.

The transformation comes easier now, fueled by desperation. Bone and sinew crack and reform as I burst through the castle doors, my wolf form taking over with practiced speed.

The curse pulses through my blood, stronger on this moonlit night. But for once, I welcome its power. Because somewhere in the darkness, Briar is in danger. I can smell her fear on the wind, mixed with the unfamiliar scent of strange wolves.

He's near the eastern boundary, Rakan's thoughts reach mine. Gage's pack has her surrounded.

My growl echoes across the snow-covered grounds. Gage. The name alone sends rage coursing through my veins. The rogue alpha has been testing our borders for months, but this—targeting Briar—this is a declaration of war.

I race through the trees, snow flying beneath my paws. The forest blurs around me, but my enhanced senses paint a clear picture of the threat ahead. Six wolves, their scents marked by darkness and something else—something wrong. The curse recognizes it, writhing beneath my skin in response.

Then I hear her voice, steady despite her fear: "Stay back."

The scene that greets me makes my blood run cold. Briar stands with her back against an ancient oak, facing down Gage's wolves. They circle her slowly, their eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger in the moonlight. But it's their leader who draws my attention.

Gage's wolf form looms larger than any creature I've ever faced, his thick black fur rippling with streaks of silver that glimmer like starlight against the darkness. It’s as if the moonlight itself bends toward him, seemingly absorbed into his being, enhancing the terrifying aura he emanates.

Power radiates from him in waves, feeling corrupted and wrong, like a tempest that has grown too vast to control. When he turns to face me, his eyes blaze with an unnatural glow, illuminating an intelligence that feels far more sinister than the instincts of a normal shifter.

Well, well, his thoughts pierce through the night, dripping with mockery. The cursed prince emerges from his castle. How fitting…

Fueled by rage and a protective instinct, I launch myself into the air, soaring overhead like a shadow. I land firmly and squarely between Gage and Briar, who presses her back against the ancient oak tree, her posture tense but unwavering. I can hear her heartbeat pounding behind me, a rapid rhythm infused with both fear and determination, but her voice remains surprisingly steady as she calls out, "Ronan?"

I can sense the weight of her gaze, the trust and worry mingling in her eyes, but I can't let myself think about that now. Gage’s taunts echo in my mind, but all that matters is protecting Briar.

Get back to the castle , I project the thought, hoping somehow she'll understand. Now .

Gage's laugh ripples through our connected minds. She can't hear you, prince. She's just a human—fragile, breakable. Like all your other weaknesses.

One of his pack members lunges forward, testing my defenses. I meet him with fangs and fury, sending him tumbling back with a yelp. But it's just a distraction. Two more wolves circle around, trying to get to Briar.

That's when Rakan bursts through the trees like an avenging shadow, taking one of the wolves down in a spray of snow and snarls. My second-in-command fights with the fluid grace that comes from years of protecting the pack, his movements precise and lethal.

The castle's defenses are failing, Gage's thoughts cut through the chaos of battle. Just like you. We can smell it—the decay, the weakening magic. How long before it all crumbles, I wonder?

I lunge for his throat, but he dances away with unnatural speed. Behind me, Briar gasps as another wolf gets too close. I spin, catching the attacker's haunches with my teeth, using my larger size to throw him into a tree. The impact shakes snow from the branches above.

Your brother sends his regards , Gage's thoughts slice through my concentration. The words make me falter just long enough for one of his wolves to score a hit, claws raking across my shoulder. The pain is nothing compared to the ice that grips my heart.

Rurik. Of course this is about Rurik.

He said you might be vulnerable tonight, Gage continues, circling closer. Something about the solstice weakening your defenses. Though he didn't mention the girl.

Another wolf lunges toward Briar, teeth bared and eyes gleaming with unnatural hunger. Rakan springs into action, intercepting the attack with savage grace, his movements a blend of instinct and skill honed through years of protecting the pack.

But even as he drives the wolf back, I can sense his fatigue. Each clash with these rogue wolves drains him further, a weariness that weighs heavy in the air.

We're outnumbered, and these wolves—there's a disturbing quality to their movements, a dissonance in their growls. They flow like shadows, but there’s an unsettling rigidity to their instincts, as if they’re being directed by a force that twists their natural wildness. It feels as though something darker has seeped into their essence.

Is this the threat the Council fears? Dark magic at work?

Tell me, Ronan, Gage's thoughts carry a cruel amusement, does she know what you really are? What you let happen to save your precious brother?

"Don't listen to him, Ronan." Briar's voice slices through the chaos of Gage's taunts, anchoring me amidst the mental turmoil. She seems inexplicably aware of the psychological battle swirling around us. "Whatever he’s saying—whatever this is about—it doesn't matter."

But it does matter.

Because Gage's words confirm my worst fears. Rurik isn't just out there somewhere—he's actively working against us. Against me. The brother I sacrificed everything to save is still orchestrating my destruction.

Wait… You can hear me? The thought slips past my mental shields, a glimmer of hope amidst the darkness.

"Yes," she replies, her eyes locked on mine. "I might not have understood it at first, but I do now."

This unspoken bond reveals itself with each moment we share, underscoring the sacred link between us. She's my mate.

A howl splits the night—reinforcements from Gage's pack approaching from the west. The sound snaps me back to the immediate danger.

Briar. I have to protect Briar.

Rakan, get her out of here.

Not without you , my second replies, even as he fights off another attacker. His loyalty burns bright in my mind, so different from the twisted bond I shared with Rurik.

Gage chooses that moment to strike, his massive form hurtling toward me with supernatural speed. We collide in a fury of fangs and claws, snow flying around us.

His strength is wrong—enhanced by something that makes my curse recoil. Each bite feels like ice in my veins.

Did you really think you could keep her safe? His thoughts rip through my mind as we grapple. The curse will take everything, Ronan. Just like it was meant to. Just like Rurik planned.

The words ignite something in me—rage, yes, but also a desperate need to prove him wrong. To prove myself wrong. Because I sent Briar away to protect her, and look where that got us. My noble sacrifice accomplished nothing except leaving her vulnerable.

A blast of pure cold energy suddenly cuts through the battle. The rogue wolves scatter as Angelic materializes between the trees, her platinum hair glowing in the moonlight. The temperature plummets further, frost spreading across the ground in intricate patterns.

"Enough." Angelic’s voice carries supernatural authority. Even Gage takes a step back, his massive form radiating wariness.

I stay crouched protectively in front of Briar, blood from my wounds staining the snow crimson. Every instinct screams to get her to safety, but moving means taking my eyes off Gage. His thoughts still press against my mind, taunting with hints about Rurik's plans.

This isn't over, Ronan , Gage projects before backing away. The curse will break you. All of you . And then your castle will be ours. His pack melts into the shadows, leaving only their wrong-scented trail in the snow.

The moment they're gone, I shift back to my human form, my body protesting against the sudden change. An ache spreads through my muscles, and I brace myself against the pain.

Briar stumbles forward as I turn to face her, instinctively reaching for my wounded shoulder, concern etched across her features.

"Don't," I growl, stepping back to create distance between us. The curse writhes beneath my skin, making it hard to think through the pain and the lingering rage that pulses through me. "This is exactly why I told you to leave."

Her voice trembles slightly, yet her eyes remain locked onto mine with a fierce determination. "If I had left, they would have attacked anyway. And you would have faced them alone."

"Better alone than watching you die!" The words tear from my throat, raw and desperate, laden with feelings I can no longer contain. "The curse is killing everything it touches. The castle, the staff, the very magic in these walls. And now Rurik—" I break off, the realization of his betrayal burning like poison in my chest.

"The curse isn't killing everything," Angelic interjects, her otherworldly presence a sharp reminder of the larger threats at play. "It's dying itself. And taking you all with it."

Rakan moves closer to us, his human form a stark contrast to the intense emotions swirling around. I can feel his loyalty pulsing through our pack bond, stronger than ever after the fight. But beneath that loyalty lies a current of concern—he senses it too, the way the magic is failing around us at an alarming rate.

"What do you mean, dying?" Briar asks, and something in her voice makes my wolf stir restlessly. She sounds too interested, too invested. Even now, she's trying to understand rather than run.

"The curse was never meant to be permanent." Angelic's green eyes fix on me with uncomfortable intensity. "It was meant to contain a specific threat. To protect the supernatural world from Rurik's experiments. But you, Ronan—you've turned it into a prison. Not just for yourself, but for everyone connected to this place."

"I didn't have a choice," I snarl, but the words taste like lies.

"You always had a choice." Her voice softens with something like pity. "Taking on the curse for Rurik didn't make you a better man. It just gave you an excuse to stop trying to be one at all."

Her words struck me like tangible blows. Behind me, I hear Briar's sharp intake of breath, feel her take a step closer despite everything I've done to push her away. The curse pulses between us, responding to her proximity even now.

"The magic is failing because you've stopped fighting," Angelic continues, frost spreading from her feet as she moves closer. "You accepted the curse as punishment, wrapped yourself in isolation and called it noble sacrifice. But that's not what breaks curses, Ronan. That's what feeds them."

"Then what am I supposed to do?" The question comes out more desperate than I intend. "Let everyone I care about die when it breaks?"

"They're dying anyway." She gestures toward the castle, its dark silhouette barely visible through the trees. "Look at your home, Ronan. Really look. The magic isn't just fading—it's being corrupted. And not just by the curse."

I follow her gaze, really seeing Frostspire Keep through enhanced senses for the first time in years. The magical decay is obvious now—darkness eating away at the foundations, shadows moving where they shouldn't. But there's something else too, something that makes my curse recoil in recognition.

"Rurik," I whisper, the betrayal cutting deep. "He's still... experimenting?"

"The rogue wolves weren't just here to taunt you." Angelic's eyes gleam with otherworldly knowledge. "They're changed. Enhanced. Your brother's work continues, using power he shouldn't have access to. Power that's somehow connected to this place."

Beside me, Briar shivers—from cold or fear or both, I'm not sure. Without thinking, I move closer to her, my body responding to an instinct deeper than the curse. The magic surges between us, and for a moment, the darkness around the castle seems to retreat.

Angelic notices. Of course she notices. "Interesting, isn't it? How the magic strengthens when you stop fighting your heart?"

"It also makes the curse stronger," I argue, but even I can hear the uncertainty in my voice.

"Does it?" She looks pointedly at where Briar stands next to me, unharmed despite the magical energy swirling around us. "Or does it just feel stronger because you're finally feeling something real?"

Rakan's thoughts brush against mine, carrying images from the fight—how my power had grown when protecting Briar, how the curse had seemed to work with me rather than against me.

She's right, brother. The magic is different when she's near.

"The curse feeds on isolation," Angelic says softly. "On fear and guilt and noble suffering. But love?" She smiles, and for once it holds no mockery. "Love transforms. Even the darkest magic can't stand against it forever."

"Unless it kills her first."

"I'm not afraid of dying." Briar's voice is quiet but resolute. When I turn to look at her, her green eyes reflect the same unwavering determination I saw in the library. "What scares me is seeing you quit."

Something breaks inside my chest—a wall I've built so carefully over the years. The curse surges, but it feels different now. Less like chains and more like... hope .

"The choice is yours, Ronan." Angelic begins to fade, her form dissolving into the winter air. "But remember—curses aren't broken by suffering. They're broken by having something worth fighting for."

She disappears, leaving us alone with the silence and the snow and too many dangerous truths. Briar sways slightly, the night's events finally catching up with her. Without hesitation, I scoop her into my arms.

"I can walk," she protests weakly.

"I know." But I don't put her down. Can't put her down. The wolf in me needs to know she's safe, and the man... the man needs something else entirely.

As we walk back to the castle, Rakan and my pack flanking us protectively, I feel the weight of Angelic's words settling into my bones. The curse thrums through my blood, as heavy as ever, but somehow different. Or maybe I'm the one who's different.

Because for the first time since taking on this burden, I'm not just enduring it. I'm not just accepting my fate as punishment.

I'm starting to wonder if there might be another way. A better way.

And it starts with the woman in my arms, who refuses to let the darkness win.

Who refuses to let me face it alone.

The curse may feed on isolation, but tonight has proven one thing: I'm not alone anymore. Not unless I choose to be.