Kael's POV
The war room was quiet.
Too quiet.
Only the sound of fire crackling in the hearth and the slow, steady ticking of the old iron clock filled the space. Kael stood at the table, hands braced against the edge, eyes locked on the northern border markers laid out on the map.
Aria's father had already begun his move.
Damon's warning hadn't come a moment too soon.
Three outposts were under silent siege. Scouts had gone missing. Old bloodline allies were vanishing into the woods without a trace. Magic—the kind not seen since the ancient wars—was waking up. And it was aimed directly at the Blackstone throne.
Kael knew what the Council would say.
Give her back.
Sacrifice the girl to keep the peace.
Let her be her father's problem again.
But he wouldn't do it.
Even if it meant war.
He wouldn't give her up.
Not now. Not ever.
---
Aria's POV
Aria stood in the old tower, overlooking the courtyard below. Warriors were moving—training, preparing, arming themselves. She recognized the new tension in the air. The scent of fear. Of battle coming close.
It made her bones ache.
This is your fault, her mind whispered. You brought war to their door.
She tried to ignore it. She tried to focus on the way her hands no longer trembled when she summoned power. Kael's training had worked. She was stronger. More in control.
But something else was happening inside her.
Something she hadn't told him.
Visions.
Whispers.
Memories that weren't hers.
Bloodlines chanting her name in a tongue she didn't understand. Her mother's face—young, beautiful, afraid—screaming as fire consumed her.
And every time she closed her eyes, she saw a throne made of ash and bone… and herself sitting on it.
She didn't know if it was prophecy.
Or warning.
But either way, it was coming.
---
That night, the High Council summoned Kael.
Aria watched him from behind a pillar as he entered the old stone chamber. They hadn't seen her, but she'd followed him anyway. Something inside her told her this was where the betrayal would begin.
And she was right.
"The girl is a liability," Councilor Mathias said. "She's dangerous. She's untrained. She's a spy, Kael."
"She's my mate," Kael growled.
"A convenient accident," another Councilor spat. "You expect us to risk everything on some prophecy and your feelings?"
"She's more than a prophecy," Kael said. "She's power. She's our only chance at breaking the bloodline curse."
"Or fulfilling it."
Silence.
And then—
"You will hand her over."
Kael's laugh was cold. "No."
"You will."
"I won't."
Then came the words Aria feared most.
"If you do not, we will strip your title."
Kael didn't blink. "Then strip it."
"She's not worth the kingdom."
Kael turned to leave. "She's worth everything."
---
He found her waiting in the hall.
"I heard it all," she whispered.
His eyes burned when he looked at her. "Then you know what I'll lose."
"I didn't ask you to choose me over your crown."
"No," he said, stepping closer. "But I did. And I won't regret it."
Her voice cracked. "Even if I lose control again?"
"You won't. I'll help you."
"And if I become the thing they fear?"
"Then I'll become the only one who can stop you."
She reached for him then.
Not with her hands.
But with her power.
Golden threads of magic swirled in the air between them, binding—tethering. A pulse of something ancient filled the space between their chests.
Kael inhaled sharply. "What is this?"
"I don't know," she said. "But it's ours."
---
Midnight — Aria's POV
The first strike came when the castle slept.
Explosions rocked the west wing.
Fire blazed in the hallways. Arrows rained from the sky. Enemy wolves—black-furred and foam-mouthed—tore through the gates like demons from the underworld.
Aria woke to the screams.
And the scent of her father's army.
Kael was already armored when he reached her room. His eyes went wide when he saw her—already dressed, two blades strapped to her back, magic alive in her veins.
"Stay close," he ordered.
"I'm not hiding."
He didn't argue.
Together, they moved through smoke and flame.
They fought side by side—Kael with blade and strength, Aria with golden fire that danced from her fingertips like a storm given form.
She saw him kill five before she even took her first breath of battle.
She took down eight before her legs began to shake.
They reached the great hall.
And then—he was there.
Her father.
Alpha Thorne Vale.
His eyes gleamed with pride and poison.
"My daughter," he said softly, as if this were a reunion. "You've grown."
"You shouldn't have come."
"I came to take back what's mine."
"I was never yours," she spat.
He smiled, dark and cruel. "You will be."
Then he raised his hand—and the shadows obeyed.
---
Kael stepped in front of her, but Aria pushed forward.
"I have to face him."
"I won't let you."
"I need to."
Her voice was firm. Unafraid.
She stepped into the ring of shadows.
Her father's power hit her like a wave—but her own rose to meet it.
Flames burst from her palms.
Light battled dark.
And when the dust cleared—
Thorne Vale was on his knees.
Blood dripping from his mouth.
Defeated.
For now.