Page 59

I arch a brow at her. “You actually followed orders? Shocking.”

She rolls her eyes, petulant as ever.

Ronan steps in reluctantly. “We saw Thalor meeting with him just outside Hyrem. After that, I tracked Thalor’s movements. He’s not even trying to be subtle. They’re working together to seize the crown. Though I don’t yet know how they plan to succeed.”

My pulse quickens, though outwardly I stay composed. Barely. It confirms what I feared, what I suspected when Thalor defended the traitor to the council. But fear isn’t enough. Not here. Not when every whisper could become a dagger.

Thalor has power. Influence. Proof is what I need.

Not suspicions. Not betrayal laid bare behind closed doors.

“What else?” I demand, my voice like ice cracking on the surface of a frozen sea.

Ronan hesitates. Elora turns away.

I narrow my eyes. “You said this news would break me. So tell me, what did you find out?”

The silence is strangling until Kieran’s voice cleaves through it, rough and low. “Elora overheard them… talking about your parents.”

My chest constricts. I force myself not to flinch.

My mistake.

“And?” I ask coldly. I won’t allow grief to cloud this. Not now. “Say it.”

Elora’s eyes meet mine, a quiet apology burning in their depths. “Thalor was involved.”

The room tilts. Not from shock. But from fury.

Quiet. Controlled. Absolute.

Something in me fractures, but nothing spills. Not yet. I hold it in, like venom between my teeth. Let them think I’m numb. Let them think I’ve broken. I will end every traitor.

The pain returns with a vengeance.

It claws up my spine and nests in my skull, a sharp, pounding ache behind my eyes. My skin burns beneath the surface, too hot for the chilly waters around me. I can feel my heart fracturing again—shards of something once whole slicing me from the inside out.

I knew Thalor was dangerous. Cunning, power-hungry. But this…

Treason.

He helped murder my parents.

Darkness edges my vision. My throat closes around a scream that refuses to be silenced this time. I’m losing control.

The water trembles with me, vibrating in warning.

Beyond the balcony, blue flickers of electricity light the sea like a brewing storm.

Distant thunder rolls through the ocean’s belly, soft, then sharper.

My magic cracks the calm like glass under pressure.

I feel it unraveling, slipping through my fingers like blood through water.

I cannot lose control.

Not now. Not like this.

Feral means death. It means the goddess claims what’s hers. And I have too much left to do. Too many lies to burn. Too many names to carve into justice.

Breathe. Breathe.

My lungs fight me, but I force a long inhale, searching for something, someone, to anchor me. Adrian. His hands on my hips. The reverent way his eyes devoured me, like I was something holy. The soft groan in his throat when he kissed me. And the way his lips traced my scars like they were sacred.

The storm inside stills. Not gone, just caged. Temporarily.

Lavender drifts into my senses, Sienna. Her hands move gently over my shoulders, and the tension there bleeds away under her calming gift. A seer with the soul of a healer .

“Better?” she murmurs, her voice a warm, grounding current.

“Yes,” I breathe, voice rough from the scream I didn’t release. “Thank you.”

My eyes open, cold and clear. The court stares back at me, Elora, Ronan, Sienna, and Kieran, all waiting. Good. I need them focused.

“Now that I know,” I say, “here’s what we’re going to do.”

They brace themselves.

“Elora and Ronan, you’ll keep shadowing Thalor. No slips, no confrontation, just surveillance. I want to know everything—what he eats, who he meets, how he shits.”

Ronan’s brow lifts. Elora’s mouth opens to argue, then shuts again when I meet her gaze. My look is blade-sharp, and she knows better than to test it right now.

“Kieran, Sienna, I want you in Erythion by dawn. We’ll need the king’s permission to involve Adrian. He was one of their scouts, so tread carefully. Make it diplomatic.”

Silence thickens, but I’m not finished.

“And,” I add, voice low, “you need to know the truth. Adrian isn’t just a human. His mother stayed hidden for years, but her bloodline traces back to King Orion himself. Adrian is his grandson.”

They freeze.

“So he’s the heir?” Ronan finally says slowly and calculating, eyes already five moves ahead. “That could benefit us. Easier to gain the alliance… and the right to eliminate Draven. Adrian is your mate, after all.”

The word mate tastes like salt and ash. A wave of nausea rolled through me as I looked between Elora and Sienna. Their gaze trails the floor with interest, a subtle tell of their guilt in sharing this information with them.

“Yes,” I grit out, the admission tasting bitter, “but don’t lose your head, Ronan. It’s not public knowledge for a reason. ”

Elora crosses her arms. “She just said it’s a secret. Why are we already turning it into a strategy?”

“I’m saying,” Ronan replies, unfazed, “if no one’s seen Adrian’s face besides Ithra and she’s dead, then presenting him as her mate and Erythion’s heir would make his claim… indisputable.”

He isn’t wrong. The idea is dangerous, manipulative, effective. Just like Thalor’s tactics.

And that’s exactly why I won’t do it.

“I won’t deceive our people,” I snap, voice sharp as coral. “I won’t become what I swore to destroy.”

Silence again. This time it lingers.

“You have your assignments,” I say flatly. “Go. Leave me.”

They hesitate, but obey.

As the room empties, the silence settles back in, heavier now. I close my eyes and press a hand to my temple. My head pulses in warning, still tender from my loss of control. I grit my teeth against it.

I’ve spent four years preparing to face that bastard. Four years building myself from ashes, stronger, colder. Now he returns, and I’m expected to stay composed while the cracks in my kingdom deepen? While my own council plots against me?

No, I need to inform my grandmother. This will enrage her. But I want her enraged.

Just like I am.

I rose from bed with a heavy heart, and limbs felt made of stone. Each stroke in the dimly lit corridors produced a hollow beat in my chest. I didn’t know if I was moving toward answers or simply seeking a moment of stillness in the storm brewing inside me.

At her chamber door, I hesitated, just long enough to question whether I had the strength for this conversation. Then I knocked.

“Come in, child,” came the soft reply. Her voice was always the same: calm, knowing, timeless.

The coral doors creaked open as I slipped inside. It wasn’t late, but Queen Nerina had already retired to her room. Her silhouette was regal even in rest, her hair like silver threads flowing around her shoulders, her presence always commanding, even in peace.

Her eyes met mine immediately. “Iryen, my child, what’s wrong?”

I tried to lie. I tried to say nothing . But I couldn’t. Not to her. She always knew. She read the tension in my jaw, the way my fingers curled into fists at my sides, the faint tremble in my breath. I was a sealed vault to others, but never to her.

I didn’t answer. I just crossed the room and sank into the bed beside her, resting my forehead against her shoulder as I pulled her into a silent embrace. We stayed like that for a long time. Her warm heartbeat grounded me until the words finally slipped free.

“I found my mate.”

Her hand stilled on my back, but she didn’t flinch. “I know.”

I blinked. “You know ?”

I pulled away just enough to see her face. Her green eyes, a mirror of my mother’s, sparkled with an understanding I hadn’t earned.

“The way you reacted at the council meeting,” she said matter-of-factly. “The human, the fury in your voice, your insistence on Ithra’s punishment. It was all written across your face, my dear.”

I flushed. The shame was colder than any ice wall I could summon. I had thought I was subtle. Careful. Calculated. But of course, this was her. My grandmother, who raised me, who’d watched me grow from a weeping child to the weapon I had become.

“Do the council know?” I asked, my voice a broken whisper. “Why did you order me to erase his memory? Why didn’t you ask me first?”

My voice cracked from the strain. The floodgates were open now—guilt, confusion, all of it rushing out in an unrelenting tide.

She chuckled, a soft ripple through the silence.

“My, my. Slow down, child.” She took a breath before continuing.

“No, the council doesn’t know. But they would have suspected if I hadn’t issued the order.

And as for not asking… I knew you’d come to me when you were ready.

I also knew you’d put duty before desire. ”

She tilted her head, gaze narrowing like a blade. “Now tell me truthfully. Did you erase the man’s memory?”

I looked away, shame coiling around my ribs like a vise. “I…no.”

She touched my chin and gently lifted it until I met her gaze. Her eyes held no judgment, just fierce love and quiet sorrow.

“I’m glad you didn’t.”

I stared at her, stunned. “But the prophecy—”

“Is a lie.”

I stopped breathing.

“When you were born,” she said gently, “a seer came to us with a vision about your mate. She said he was a hybrid. Your parents and I… we told her to change the records. To make it a warning. To paint the hybrid as a threat.”

“Y—you…” My mind reeled. “I—I don’t understand. Why?”

Her fingers brushed my cheek.

“We were trying to protect you. If the council ever found out the truth, if Thalor found out…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to. I knew the consequences too well.

The pain in my chest returned in full force, sharper now. It stole my breath and sent a fresh wave of nausea through me.

I left him .

I left him.

I left him.

All because of this prophecy, and it was a lie?

I walked away when I didn’t have to. If I’d just talked to her earlier…

It was for the best .