Page 159

Hades

Kael’s expression didn’t shift, but his silence spoke volumes.

He didn’t believe me.

He doubted me.

Worse, I was doubting myself.

The very idea gnawed at me.

"Do you take me for a fool?" I hissed, stepping forward. "This is not affection. It’s a bond forged from blood and prophecy, not sentiment."

Kael’s eyes flicked to the crushed paper in my hand, then back to me. "Of course, Your Majesty."

His tone was neutral, but I heard the undercurrent of doubt.

I despised it.

My heartbeat was still too fast, my breath too shallow.

I forced the images from my mind, burying them under ice.

This wasn’t desire.

This wasn’t love.

It was strategy. Power.

Ellen was the missing piece, the key to awakening the Fenrir’s Marker and unlocking a force that would bring the Silverpine wolves to their knees.

She was a weapon. My weapon.

That was all.

The door crashed open with a deafening bang.

Kael’s hand shot to his weapon, but even he froze when he saw who it was.

Jules.

She stumbled in, gasping for breath, her face pale and wild. Her hands clutched at her chest as if she were holding herself together, barely restraining the chaos inside.

Her wide, frenzied eyes locked onto me, then darted to the crushed report still in my grip.

"No," she rasped, voice broken. Then louder, shriller, "NO!"

Her scream fractured the air, raw and unhinged.

"You can’t!" Her voice cracked as she took a staggering step forward, arm outstretched as if she could snatch the truth from my hands. "She can’t be your mate! She’s a werewolf!"

The words echoed in the room, jagged and frantic.

Kael stiffened, and even I stood frozen for a breath, startled by the vehemence in her voice.

"It’s taboo!" Jules shrieked. "It’s unnatural! She will be your ruin!"

Her eyes shimmered—not with fear, but something far more volatile.

"She cannot love you!"

The words struck the air like a blade.

"Not the way I do."

Silence.

A silence so absolute it seemed to drain the room of air.

Kael’s expression darkened in shock, his brows knitting as his head turned slowly toward her.

But I—

I couldn’t move.

Her confession slammed into me with all the subtlety of a hammer to the skull.

Not the way I do.

It shouldn’t have rattled me. Shouldn’t have touched anything beneath my skin.

Yet—

Something inside me lurched.

No.

A sick twist knotted in my gut.

Her eyes gleamed with something possessive, something feral.

And gods, it made my skin crawl.

I felt it again—that same cold, invasive sensation slithering into my veins.

But it wasn’t desire.

It wasn’t intrigue.

It was disgust.

Jules took another slow, trembling step forward.

"It’s a trick," she whispered now, softer but no less frenzied. Her voice trembled with conviction. "It has to be. The test is wrong. She’s manipulating you—she’s deceiving you!"

Her gaze flicked desperately between me and the crumpled report, as though sheer will could make it vanish.

"I’ve always been loyal," she breathed, eyes glistening. "I’ve always been here, by your side. For you."

She took another step.

And something in me snapped.

"Don’t."

The word was sharp, guttural—dragged from somewhere deeper than my voice.

Jules froze mid-step.

Her lips trembled.

"But I—"

"Don’t," I growled again, quieter now, colder.

The air thickened, darkened.

Kael hadn’t moved, but his hand rested dangerously close to his weapon now, his eyes locked on Jules.

She blinked rapidly, her face crumbling.

"You… you don’t understand," she whispered, voice brittle. "I love you. I belong to you."

Something vile coiled in my chest.

"No," I said, the word final and unrelenting.

"You don’t."

Her face twisted—shock, pain, and fury blending into something fractured.

"You’re wrong," she choked out, shaking her head. "She’s not meant for you. She’ll break you. She can’t even begin to understand you. Not like I do."

Her words slithered toward me, but they couldn’t reach. They never could.

Because the bond pulsed under my skin—silent, electric.

And as much as I should have hated it, Ellen was already there.

Not Jules.

Never Jules.

Never anybody else.

"Get out," I said, low and seething.

Jules didn’t move.

"GET OUT!"

The walls seemed to tremble with the force of it.

Kael flinched. Jules stumbled back as if struck, her breath hitching in her throat.

And for a single, fractured moment, she stared at me, her eyes hollow, shattered.

Then she pointed at Kael. "There is something that I refused to tell you." She snarled. "Your beta is fucking your wife."

For a long moment, there was pin drop silence.

Without confirming the validity of the statement, my body moved before my mind could catch up.

A violent, primal force erupted inside me, so sudden and absolute it felt as though the air had been sucked from the room.

In a blink, my hand shot forward, seizing Jules by the throat.

Her breath caught in a strangled gasp, her feet barely skimming the ground as I lifted her with terrifying ease.

"What did you say?"

The words were a low growl, barely human, laced with something ancient and unforgiving. It was a voice I recognized; Vassir himself spoke through the vessel that was my body.

Her hands clawed at my wrist, nails digging into flesh that wouldn’t give.

Kael didn’t move.

Didn’t breathe.

I knew he would never. I trusted Kael with my life. But the words themself had already awoken the corruption that refused to receed not until it drew blood. Control was slipping right into the grasp of the corruption.

The revelation of the test results had stoked the flames of my possessiveness. It was all-consuming now, every breath I took scorched by the inferno raging within me.

The corruption pulsed violently beneath my skin, thrumming with dark, ancient energy, each beat demanding blood, demanding retribution.

My grip on Jules’ throat tightened, and she gagged, her legs kicking weakly, scraping at my arm with no effect.

Her accusation echoed in my skull.

Your beta is fucking your wife.

The words, poisonous and venom-laced, repeated over and over until they blurred into something primal.

Kael hadn’t moved.

Didn’t defend himself. He was completely speechless, his gaze distant, his pallor sickly.

He didn’t deny it. He didn’t need to. If he needed to, it would mean that I didn’t trust him. And I did.

Yet, Jules continued to speak. "I saw... her... a hickey...on her neck." She grinned, almost smug.

Realization dawned and I tightened my grip until her face turned blue, pulled her ear to my face. "I put it there. I marked my wife." I snarled before tossing her unto the ground.