Page 19

Kassira

I don’t even know how I got back to my room yesterday. I think I just ran from Draven’s office. Fled.

I hate feeling like this again. Sad. Powerless. Broken.

The pain never stops — a constant, gnawing pressure that’s always there inside my chest, stealing every breath.

But somehow, I managed to claw myself back enough to think through it. Because feeling sorry for myself won’t save him. Letting myself drown in my own pain won’t save any of us.

We need a solution. Fast.

If that bitch gets her way, Draven will mark her on the full moon — because she’s not his true mate and that’s the only time he could. And the full moon rises in a week. Seven days. Seven days until the end.

It took me six months last time to build up the wall around me high enough that I was able to function through the pain and pull off what I thought was a severing of the bond.

Now I have a week. And I can’t even try cloaking the bond again — it would take more magic than I can scrape together, and I’m running on fumes.

I almost laugh. How I wish my side of the bond was still hidden. Cloaked so deep that none of this could touch me. But wishing’s useless now.

Not only am I drowning in agony again, but now I get the bonus anxiety of knowing the clock is ticking — and if we don’t stop this, the shifter apocalypse is coming.

I swear if this situation wasn’t threatening to destroy all shifters, including me, I’d already be halfway to some beach, drunk off my ass and dancing terribly to some equally terrible music.

Dammit, who am I kidding? I couldn’t leave Draven behind. Not after getting to know him. Not after seeing the real him. That stubborn, silly, maddening man. He showed me a glimpse of a possible future between us so bright that I’d regret it forever if I didn’t fight for it.

He didn’t ask for any of this. Neither did I.

But of course this had to happen to me.

Ever since Dad died in that stupid accident, and Mom wasted away from the grief of losing her mate, my life’s been one long, slow fall downhill.

I was left with a bakery job I never wanted but had to keep — because, well, a girl’s gotta eat.

Instead of furthering my studies and going into research, I had to pull up my big girl pants and be an adult.

And then my mate didn’t show. And when he finally did... He turned out to be a cursed hellhound king.

Why couldn’t I have just gotten a normal mate? One who forgot our anniversary, killed a rabbit to apologize, and got smacked upside the head before I kissed him and forgave him?

The anger flares up, cutting through the pain. I grab the book I was trying to read and hurl it at the wall so hard that the spine snaps and pages fly everywhere.

I will find a way out of this and when I do, I’ll sic Draxis on that red-headed bitch and watch as he digs his claws into her and drinks her blood.

“ What if we force Draxis out? ” Neris pipes up suddenly, her voice strained with pain.

I pause, considering.

“Risk Sin’s life again?” I murmur, then shrug. “He’d probably be fine with it. But with how much stronger the magic is around Draven now... would it even work?”

“ We’d need an exit plan, ” Neris gasps through another bolt of pain. “ In case it doesn’t. ”

Before I can answer, there’s a knock at the door — three short in quick succession, two with long pauses. The knock Sin told me to memorize. The only one I’m supposed to trust.

It’s cute that he thinks a locked door could stop a cursed hellhound. Men really are idiots sometimes.

I open the door, and there he is — arms loaded with books.

He marches straight to my bed and dumps them there without ceremony. Pages crinkle under the weight.

“This is everything I could find on old magic,” he says, jerking his thumb toward the mountain of forbidden knowledge. “Scraped it from the restricted section when no one was looking.”

He scans the disaster zone that is my room — every surface buried under open books and frantic notes.

“Any luck with the others?” he asks, already picking up a thick, dusty tome.

“That would’ve been too easy,” I mutter, closing the door.

“Well, fuck,” he says, dragging a hand through his hair. “Alright, come on. Two pairs of eyes are better than one.” He plops down on the edge of the bed, flipping a book open.

“Sin.” I say his name softly, and he looks up immediately, alert.

“We don’t have time anymore. I think—” I swallow hard. “Neris and I think we should try to force Draxis out. Like before. During the training.”

His eyes go wide. His whole body stiffens.

“Fuck, Kass.” He exhales sharply, raking his hand down his face. “He’s so much worse now. We have no idea if it’ll work. And if it doesn’t...” He shakes his head. “He’ll have an official excuse to kill me. And then you’ll be alone.”

He says it like it’s just a fact. No fear.

He shrugs one shoulder, almost casual. “Don’t get me wrong — I really, really don’t want to die.” A grim smile curves his mouth. “But more than that, I don’t want you left to deal with this alone.”

He tosses the book he’s holding back onto the bed, gets up and steps closer, standing right in front of me.

“I mean it, Kassira.” His voice drops lower, rough with emotion. “You’re our best shot. Maybe our only shot. But you’ll need help. And it’s not just about saving Draven — though Goddess knows I love that bastard — it’s about saving all of shifter kind.”

Well, that certainly takes the pressure off.

He clenches his jaw for a moment. “And I really don’t want all of us to end up like zombies bowing to some evil witch.”

"Then I could just mark him by surprise," I snap, throwing my hands in the air. I swear I’m about to start setting things on fire.

Sin grimaces. “That’s a last resort. I mean, final-final. Hail-Moon-Goddess-level desperate. He was right about one thing — if you mark him, the magic could infect you too.”

He drags in a breath, his frustration crackling between us.

“We still have a week. If we don’t have another way by then, fine. Mark him.”

I shake my head, my voice coming out low and raw. “I can’t wait a week, Sin.”

It’s the truth that’s been chewing through me all night.

“I can barely concentrate long enough to read a page. Between the pain... and the rage at that bitch and her games...” I clench my fists at my sides.

“I need him back. Even if it’s just so I can kick his royal ass across the palace courtyard.

Then maybe...” My voice catches. “Maybe I’ll figure out if there’s anything left of us. ”

My eyes lock onto a tiny freckle on Sin’s forehead, and I glare at it like it’s responsible for my entire life falling apart.

“And if I can’t get him back,” I mutter darkly, “then I’ll find a way to make that whore bleed and turn her into mulch before I die.”

A small, crooked smile tugs at Sin’s mouth — the kind that says he’s both worried about me and weirdly proud.

“You’re a bloodthirsty little thing,” he says, almost fondly. “Just like that spunky wolf of yours.”

He glances over my shoulder for a second before meeting my eyes again, fierce and steady.

“Fine,” he says. “Let’s try it. Let’s force Draxis out.”

Relief and dread slam into me at once.

“Grab a few books you think might help,” he adds. “If this goes sideways — and it will, I’m sure of it — I’ve got a way to get us out fast. Because we won’t be able to stay here after.”

I smirk and smack his chest lightly with the back of my hand.

“Good boy, Sin.”

He growls under his breath, glowering at me like I just insulted his ancestors.

“Don’t play around like that,” he snarls. “My wolf is vicious.”

“Sure,” I say sweetly, grabbing a stack of books. “Vicious like a big, angry puppy, I’m sure.”

He curses under his breath, but he’s already moving. “You haven’t even met him,” he grumbles.

We find Draven walking down a wide hallway, Amira glued to his side.

She’s talking a mile a minute, smiling like a damn hyena, but he’s clearly not listening.

He moves like a marionette with broken strings — jerky, hollow-eyed, completely wrong.

Anyone with half a brain could see it now.

Even the other shifters passing by shoot him sideways glances, whispering to each other.

The subtlety from before is gone. Now the rot is obvious.

I don’t waste time. I grab Sin by the wrist and drag him in front of them.

“Hello, Draven,” I whisper, smiling sweetly at the man who’s supposed to be mine.

His eyes don’t even flicker.

There’s no use for other words. I turn sharply — and kiss Sin.

Deep. Messy. Tongue and moans and desperate fingers clutching at each other like we’re about to tear our clothes off in the middle of this hallway.

Sin doesn’t miss a beat. His hand tangles in my hair, pulling just enough to make my knees threaten to give out.

His teeth scrape over my lower lip, and the sound that rips out of me is so obscene, so raw, that if anyone still doubted our act, they’re now scandalized for life.

“Oh wow. This is disgusting,” Amira spits somewhere in the background.

She can go choke on her own venom for all I care.

And then — low and rumbling, almost buried under the noise — I hear it. A snarl.

I crack one eye open and steal a peek.

No Draxis yet. Just Draven, standing there, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turn white, his breathing ragged. The empty look is flickering — like a lightbulb about to die.

Close. But not close enough.

"Grab my breast. Take it up a notch," I whisper against Sin’s mouth.

Sin freezes for a heartbeat — just a breath — then, to his everlasting credit, he does it. Full-on handful, squeeze and everything. I moan shamelessly, grinding against him like I’ve never heard of public decency.

I deserve an award for this performance. A shiny one. Preferably handed to me by a very repentant Draven after we’re done saving his royal ass.

“Ven, what—” Amira's screech cuts off with a blood-curdling snarl tearing from Draven’s throat.

Bingo.

I pull away from Sin and whisper, “Stand behind me.”