Malik
Two days. That was all I had.
Two days to reach Acheron before it was too late. I sat hunched over the war table, my hands curled into fists, my mind a battlefield of its own. The map before me was littered with markers, each one a symbol of life or death, victory or failure. I was twenty-one now, no longer the reckless prince I had once been. Yet despite the blood I had shed, the battles I had fought, my father still refused to step down. Because of his hesitation, because of his damned pride, I was marching into war with only 3,000 werewolves and 2,500 elementals. We were outnumbered. Outmatched.But not yet out of the fight. Ajax and Desmond stood beside me, their faces grim, laced with uncertainty. My second and third in command. My brothers in arms. The tension in the war room was thick, pressing down on us like the weight of the sky itself. "If we enter from here, we'll have the element of surprise," Ajax said, pressing a pin into a hidden passage behind the altar. I rubbed my chin, my gaze sharpening. "Yes... Yes, that could work. We'll position the main army here." I stuck another pin at the front of the altar, my fingers steady despite the storm brewing inside me. "Meanwhile, we take a smaller force and strike from the back. If we time it right—" I moved our markers forward, surrounding Acheron's piece, before driving my palm into it with a crack. The wooden statue splintered in my grip, shards scattering across the table. "Then we can win." Desmond and Ajax exchanged a glance before nodding. They believed in me. They always had. But belief wouldn't be enough. Not this time. The room fell into silence, the air thick with unspoken thoughts. The only sound was my own breath—ragged, uneven. Audra.
I had to get her back.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Cordelia. She answered after the first ring, her voice sharp, skipping pleasantries. "Do you have any news?" I inhaled sharply. "We've got a plan, but we move now. I won't discuss the details here. Meet at our usual spot." My voice was low, clipped—calculated. A pause. Then, she murmured, "Understood."
Hours later, in the underground tunnels of the castle, Cordelia and her husband, Caspian, stood before me. Their faces were lined with exhaustion, but their eyes burned with the same determination clawing at my chest. "All right, Malik," Cordelia said, breathless. "What do you have?" I exhaled slowly, rolling my shoulders, forcing myself into cold, merciless focus. "We split the army—4,500 on the front lines to stall, to bait them into thinking we're throwing everything we have at them." I met Caspian's gaze. "Meanwhile, we lead a strike team of 1,000 through the back of the altar, take out his men performing the ritual, and get Audra out. Quick. Clean. Minimal casualties.".Caspian crossed his arms, his expression unreadable. "And what if that's exactly what Acheron is expecting?" I didn't hesitate. "Then we adapt. But we do not wait. We only have a day and a half before the ritual. Every second wasted is another moment Audra is in his hands." Cordelia pressed her lips together, then gave a firm nod. Caspian exhaled sharply, reluctant but resolved. "Two hours," I said. "Meet at the rendezvous with your forces. I'll gather mine." My blood was already boiling, my pulse a war drum in my ears. We parted ways, our steps hurried, our fate already written.
A few hours later, I stood at the rally point, staring at the mass of warriors gathered before me. More had joined our cause. 7,200. A grin split my face. Even better. The military trucks rumbled like distant thunder as we loaded in. Inside, silence choked the air. No words. No reassurances. Only the sound of shifting armor, of warriors clutching their weapons, their bodies wound tight with anticipation. The inevitability of war pressed down on us. The cost of blood yet to be shed. And yet—beneath it all, beneath the fear, the tension, the steel resolve—was ecstasy.
I was going to see her again.
My mate. My Audra.
Acheron's Pov
War loomed.
I could feel it, taste it—and it was delicious. My army outnumbered Malik's by thousands. His plan, whatever it was, would fail. He would fail. Still, I was curious. How far would he go? What foolish, desperate tactics would he attempt? I would watch it all—watch as his plan cracked and burned before his very eyes. We were a day away now. So close. The anticipation curled in my gut, sharp and insatiable. I couldn't contain it, the hunger, the raw need to see this through. But excitement didn't mean carelessness. I needed to check on the altar. Make sure everything was set in place. I passed through the gate, stepping onto the stone walkway. The air was thick with the scent of magic, old and powerful. The sky above swirled with dark clouds, the wind whispering secrets of the chaos to come.Below, my servants worked tirelessly. Some carved the last runes into the obsidian pillars. Others laid out offerings—fresh herbs, flowers, and fruit, each one placed with precision and reverence. Everything was perfect. I nodded in satisfaction, watching as the massive stone tower—the heart of my ritual—stood gleaming, its surface cleaned from top to bottom. The energy in the air pulsed, feeding off the blood already spilled, the power growing stronger with each passing second. It was ready. It was almost time. I turned and stepped back into my castle, my boots echoing against the dimly lit halls. The corridors stretched before me, lined with ancient tapestries. I reached my office and threw open the door—only to find chaos. Stacks of papers littered the room, piled high, spilling over onto the floor. A snarl curled my lips. I told those idiots to stop dumping things in here. Ignoring the mess, I dropped into my chair, hands steepled before me. But I couldn't focus. My mind raced. What if Malik had more forces than I had originally thought. What if— What if I failed? No. Not again It didn't matter. He was nothing. His plans, his efforts, all of it—meaningless.
And yet...
My jaw clenched. My fingers twitched. I slammed my fist down onto my desk, the wood cracking beneath the force.
My chair flew back, slamming into the wall, denting it.I needed to see her. Now. I stormed down the hall, my boots clacking against the stone tiles. Every step was a drumbeat of impatience, of something darker thrumming beneath my skin. I reached my chambers and flung open the heavy door. Audra jolted awake, her eyes wide, her body trembling. Petrified. A slow smirk curled at my lips. I devoured her fear. "You're coming with me," I snarled, voice like a blade against her skin. She gulped, her breath shaky as she dragged her feet, resisting even as I gripped her wrist. It didn't matter. We stepped through the portal. And on the other side— The grand altar awaited. Tomorrow, everything would change.