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“Your Highness has suffered grave injuries and requires advanced healing,” Sienna said, her voice steady yet urgent as her gaze swept over the twins.

“I must ask you not to disclose anything you see or hear during the process. Both of you are here to heal her, and that alone must remain your focus.”

“Yes, Lady Sienna,” they replied in unison, their voices calm despite the situation.

“Once you’ve completed healing Her Highness, you are to attend to Lady Sienna and Lady Elora without delay. Do you understand?”

The twins exchanged a brief glance before nodding in unison. “Yes, Sir Kieran.”

The healers moved with synchronized grace, rounding the bed and seating themselves close to Iryen. Alyssa’s gaze was steady, while Lina leaned in slightly, her eyes scanning for signs of injury.

“Where are her injuries?” Lina asked, her voice calm but urgent.

Carefully, I adjusted Iryen, turning her sideways to reveal the jagged shards of ice still embedded in her back.

“Here,” I said, my voice low, the words bitter in my mouth as I gestured toward the wounds showing them her back.

My chest burned with something deeper than magic.

It was grief. No—grief’s uglier cousin. Dread.

The kind that settled in your gut and whispered that this might be it.

That maybe this time, you don’t get to fix it.

That maybe the person you’d burn the world for is slipping away—and you can’t fuck stop it.

And I couldn’t stand it.

I paced the chamber like a caged animal, every step sharp, twitching with energy I couldn’t release. Every brush of the current against my skin felt like a slap. I bit the inside of my cheek so hard the metallic taste flooded my mouth. Still not enough to ground me.

“Kieran,” I called, needing to do anything different from watching the healers weaving their magic.

Her breathing steadied, and the bleeding from her wounds slowed as the glow of the healer’s hands worked over her, removing the ice. Iryen stirred faintly, her brow twitching, and for a fleeting moment, relief coursed through me.

“How do you handle the bodies of traitors here?” I asked, my tone flat, masking the storm raging inside me, my gaze never leaving Iryen.

“We feed them to the sharks,” he replied without hesitation. “Why?”

“Could you attend to this, please? I know I don’t have any right—”

“He will do it,” Sienna interjected, her voice steady but her expression betraying a deeper feeling—uncertainty, maybe?

For the first time, I glanced up at them, my gaze shifting between Sienna and Kieran.

“You are her mate,” she continued, voice softening but still carrying weight.

“It is your right to rule beside her if you choose so. And yes, you have rights here.” She hesitated for the briefest moment, her lips pressing together before she spoke again.

“We also know about your heritage, Prince Adrian.”

Prince. The word hit harder than it should have. It echoed in my skull like an accusation and a prophecy all at once. For a moment, I couldn’t tell if the tightness in my chest was pride or something colder, heavier—unease, maybe. Disgust. Both?

I scoffed under my breath bitterly. Prince. What a joke.

The title tasted foreign in my mouth, like something stolen or forced, not earned.

I wasn’t born for crowns or ceremonies. My mother might’ve been a princess, but royalty never suited me.

I’d spent my entire life running from politics, from expectations, from bloodlines I didn’t ask for and responsibilities I didn’t want.

But now? Now I’d drape myself in the damn title if it meant standing beside her.

I’d wear it like armor. I’d become the crown, the throne, the kingdom, if that’s what it took to be with her, to protect her, to make sure no one ever tried to touch her again without bleeding for it.

If being a prince meant I could stand at her side, not beneath her or behind her, but as her equal.

Then fine. I’d be their fucking prince. But gods help anyone who expected me to play nice.

“I’ll take Ronan,” Kieran’s voice broke through my thoughts. “The man’s a wreck after watching Elora almost die. He could use a break.”

A deep pang of guilt settled heavy in my chest. If I had been faster, if I had done something different, if I had come earlier, I could have prevented Elora’s injuries. I could have stopped Iryen’s grandmother’s death.

“How is she?”

Kieran sighed, running a hand through his hair.

“Conscious, but barely healed. Her highness pulled her from death’s grip using healing magic, but between the poisoning, torture, and the stabbing, it’s going to take time. She’ll need several healing sessions before she’s fully recovered. ”

I clenched my fists, the weight of his words sinking in. I couldn’t imagine the pain Elora must have endured, and the thought of it made my jaw tighten. In the few iterations we had, I became fond of the hot-headed siren.

“I hope she’ll be okay,” I mumbled, more to myself than to him. The only solace I could cling to was that she was strong, and that with time, and maybe a little help, she’d fully heal.

As Kieran left, another thought, a more unpleasant one, struck me, and I turned to Sienna.

“And her grandmother?” The words soured on my tongue. “How do you handle funeral arrangements?”

Sienna’s eyes darkened, hollow with exhaustion.

“The Regent Queen’s body should remain in an ice casket until her highness recovers,” she mumbled. With the lingering effects of the poison evident, pale face and sluggish movements. She was running on sheer willpower, and it showed. “The first step is informing the council and—”

“Go rest,” I interrupted, my tone firmer than intended. “We can handle this tomorrow after you heal.”

Her eyes flickered with surprise before softening.

“Alright,” she relented. “I’ll be at the last door down the corridor if you need me.”

I nodded, a dismissive gesture that made her linger a moment longer before she turned and left.

I watched her retreating figure, her tail unsteady but determined, before my attention shifted back to Iryen, lying motionless on the bed.

The gashes nearly healed now, reduced to faint reddish lines, a testament to the healers’ skill.

“She’s healed, Your Highness.” The twins’ synchronized voices broke the awkward silence. Relief washed over me like a tide, but it didn’t loosen the iron grip wrapped around my ribs.

“Thank you,” I murmured, meeting their onyx eyes with a nod that barely scratched the surface of what I felt. Gratitude, sure—but beneath it, desperation, fear, and a prayer I didn’t dare voice. “Please attend to Lady Sienna in her chambers before you retire.”

They nodded, silent as the shadows they stepped into, and disappeared without a word. Just how I preferred it. And then it was just us.

Finally.

I lowered myself onto the edge of the bed beside her, careful not to disturb her, but unable to stop staring. My gaze clung to her face as if it were the only thing tethering me to reality.

The healers had done their work. Flawless, really. No blood, no visible wounds. But I still saw what almost happened. I could feel it like a phantom hand still choking the life out of my lungs. Now I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t rest.

I couldn’t even exhale properly without feeling like the walls would cave in.

She was alive, yes. But I’d come far too close to losing her. Close enough to taste what that loss would feel like. And gods, I hated it. Hated how fragile everything suddenly felt.

My jaw clenched. I didn’t like this weakness. This sharp, cloying fear gnawed at my insides. But if this was the price for having her still breathing beside me, I’d take it a thousand times over.

Still, I didn’t close my eyes. I wouldn’t. Not tonight.

***

Morning arrived far too soon, dragging with it all the unresolved arrangements I had pushed aside the night before.

The faint glow of sunlight filtered into the room, casting delicate patterns over the gilded walls.

Iryen stirred faintly in her sleep, her breathing steady, a slight comfort against the chaos awaiting outside.

A soft knock broke the silence, and the door creaked open to reveal Sienna.

Her complexion improved. The pallor of the previous night had given way to a healthier glow.

Her eyes shone with clarity, the exhaustion replaced by determination.

Even her movements now carried a renewed grace and confidence.

“You look better,” I said, my voice low but sincere.

She offered a faint smile, inclining her head. “The healers worked wonders. Thank you for insisting I rest.”

I nodded, my gaze shifting briefly to Iryen before returning to Sienna.

“Now, please walk me through the arrangements that need to be done.”

Her expression sobered as she stepped closer. “I’ve already arranged for Nerina’s ice casket to be stored while the Queen recovers.”

“Good. And how about the council?” I asked, my voice sharp. For all I know about siren politics, they could be a problem.

Sienna’s gaze lingered on Iryen before returning to me.

“With Thalor gone, I don’t think they’ll pose as much of an issue. She has the majority on her side now.” Her eyes met mine, steady but cautious. “But they still need to know what happened last night. And since it was you who killed Thalor, that could raise concerns.”

“I’d do it again,” I said without hesitation, without an ounce of regret. Killing the bastard hadn’t been enough. I should’ve cut him apart, the way he had hurt her. “He deserved worse.”

“I know.” Sienna nodded, her expression hardening. “Believe me, I wish I’d been the one to do it. And while I’m glad the bastard is gone, his influence is another matter.”

“This could interfere with her right to rule?” The question tasted like rust on my tongue.