Chapter 102
Chapter 102
ALARIG
Blood tastes like victory.
K 72% 0
1 rip my claws out of the rogue’s throat and let his body drop, already moving to the next target. Three wolves rush me at once—stupid fucking bastards–and I meet them head–on with grin that’s all teeth and violence.
The first one loses his jaw. Literally. I tear it clean off and throw at the second wolf’s face just to watch him stumble in shock before I gut him like a fish.
The third one actually tries to run.
I catch him by the spine and snap.
“Next!” I roar into the chaos, and fuck, I’m alive right now. Blood sprays across my chest, warm and sticky, and somewhere in the distance I can hear Beta Cole shouting orders, organizing our forces, doing all that strategic bullshit I can’t be bothered with.
Because I’m not here to strategize.
I’m here to end this.
The battlefield is a beautiful fucking mess–fire licking at what’s left of the village structures, bodies strewn across torn earth, the air thick with smoke and screams and the wet crunch of bone breaking under superior force. This was supposed to be a smaller territory under Imperial Pack protection. Peaceful. Safe.
Until these rogue pieces of shit decided to invade.
Bad. Fucking. Choice.
I decapitate another wolf mid–lunge, his head rolling away while his body keeps running for three steps before it realizes it’s dead. Almost poetic.
Sorin would appreciate that, I think, and just the thought of her name sends a fresh surge of adrenaline through my veins.
Sorin. My mate. My queen. My gorgeous, infuriating, perfect little bird waiting for me back at the palace.
I’ve been gone a week.
Seven days of sleeping in war camps and covered in blood that isn’t mine and dreaming about what I’m going to do to her the second I get home. How I’m going to strip her down slowly, piece by fucking piece, until she’s trembling beneath me. How I’m going to taste every inch of her skin and make her scream my name loud enough that the entire pack knows exactly who their queen belongs to.
The thought makes me harder than any amount of violence ever could.
“Your Majesty!” One of our warriors–some kid whose name I don’t give a shit about–points toward a cluster of rogues regrouping near the burned–out barn. “The leader’s there!”
Finally.
I’ve been carving through his pathetic army for hours, waiting for the main event. Because killing foot soldiers is satisfying, sure, but it’s not cathartic. Not the way killing the man who orchestrated this whole clusterfuck will be.
I stalk toward the barn, and wolves part around me like the Red fucking Sea. Even our own warriors give me a wide berth. Smart. I’m not exactly in a “friendly fire prevention” mood right now.
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The rogue leader is exactly what I expected: middle–aged, scarred, with that desperate gleam in his eyes that comes from a man who knows he’s already lost but hasn’t accepted it yet.
He’s surrounded by his “elite guard“-five wolves who probably think they’re intimidating.
I kill all five before the leader can blink.
It’s almost disappointing how easy they go down. No challenge. No artistry. Just efficient, brutal execution.
The leader stumbles backward, tripping over one of his own men’s corpses.
“Wait!” he screams, hands up. “Wait, please, I can–we can negotiate! I have information! I have-”
I grab him by the throat and lift him off his feet.
“Negotiate?” I let the word roll around my mouth, tasting it. “You attacked an Imperial Pack territory. Killed innocent wolves. Burned their homes.” I tilt my head, studying him like he’s a particularly interesting insect. “What the fuck makes you
think there’s anything to negotiate?”
“Please-” He’s choking, clawing at my hand. “Please, Your Majesty, we were just–we needed-”
“Needed what?” I squeeze harder, just enough to make breathing a struggle but not enough to kill. Not yet. “Tell me what was worth dying for.”
I drop him.
He lands hard, gasping, clutching his throat.
Beta Cole appears at my side, silent and efficient as always. He’s Holding a blade–not his, probably taken from one of the dead rogues–and he offers it to me without a word.
Good man.
I crouch down in front of the rogue leader, spinning the blade in my fingers. “I’m going to ask you once. Why did you attack this pack?”
“We-” He coughs, blood speckling his lips. “We needed supplies Food. Shelter. We were starving-”
“Bullshit.” I press the blade’s tip against his kneecap. Not cutting. Not yet. Just… promising. “Try again.”
“The treasure!” The words burst out of him in a rush. “There was treasure here. Valuables. We heard this pack was wealthy, that they had artifacts, jewels, things we could sell-”
“So you’re thieves.” I push the blade in just a little. He screams. “Murderous, pathetic little thieves who slaughter families for profit.”
“We were desperate! We just wanted to survive!”
“By killing children?”
He goes very, very still.
“Yeah.” I smile, and I know what he sees: death looking back at him. “We found the bodies. What was it, twelve kids? Thirteen? Hard to count when they’re in that many pieces.”
“I didn’t–that wasn’t-”
“Save it.” I stand up, wiping the blade on my pants. “Cole. Bring me their ‘treasure.”
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Chapter 102
The Beta nods and disappears into what’s left of the baru.
72%
3 vouchers
The rogue leader’s eyes light up with something that looks dangerously like hope. “You’ll take it? You’ll spare us if we give you everything?”
I don’t answer. Just wait
Cole returns with three large sacks, dumping them at my feet. They clink and clatter with the unmistakable sound of loot.
“Open them,” I order.
Cole complies, untying each sack and spreading the contents across the blood–soaked ground.
silver artifacts, jeweled daggers, ancient–looking sculptures, ornate
I have to admit–it’s an impressive haul. Gold Ceremonial hall. The kind of shit that would fetch a fortune on the black
candlesticks that probably came from the pack’s
market.
The rogue leader is practically vibrating with hope now. “See? See, Your Majesty? It’s all yours. Every piece. We’ll leave. We’ll never come back. Just–just let us go. Please.”
I crouch down again, sifting through the treasures with one hand
And then I see it.
A necklace.
It’s delicate, almost fragile–looking among all the gaudy gold and harsh silver. A thin chain supporting a pendant–deep blue sapphire surrounded by small diamonds that catch the firelight and throw it back in a thousand different directions.
Blue like Sorin’s eyes.
I pick it up carefully, letting it dangle from my fingers. The craftsmanship is exquisite. Old. Probably worth more than this entire shithole territory.
But that’s not why I want it.
I want it because I can already see it against Sorin’s throat. Can already imagine how the blue will make her eyes look even more impossibly vibrant. How the delicate chain will rest against her collarbones, drawing attention to all that pale skin I‘ going to mark up the second I get her alone.
“My queen would love this,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
The rogue leader latches onto my words like a lifeline. “Yes! Yes, Your Majesty, it’s yours! All of it is yours! Please, we can work together, we can-”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
Then I drive the blade through his eye socket.
He dies with that pathetic hope still frozen on his face.
I stand up, wiping brain matter off my hand, and admire the necklace again. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
“Was that necessary?”
I turn to find Beta Cassian–the envoy from the Eastern territories who joined us for this little excursion–staring at me with something uncomfortably close to judgment.
“Was what necessary?” I ask mildly.
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Chapter 102
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“Killing him” Cassian gestures at the corpse. “He was willing to ve you everything. To cooperate. You could have just
Could have what?” I interrupt, genuinely curious. “Let him live at him on the head and send him on his way with a stern warning about the dangers of invading sovereign territory?”
“He was begging for his life-
“He killed babies.” I say it flatly, matter–of–fact. “Ilis pack slaughtered thirteen children under the age of ten. Ripped them apart for fun while their parents watched.” I step closer to Cassian, letting him see exactly what’s looking back at him. “So yeah, Envoy. I killed him. And I’d do it again. And again. And fucking again if I had the chance.”
Cassian’s throat works. He looks away.
Smart man.
“Now.” I hold up the necklace, letting my tone lighten. “Do you think Sorin will like this?”
The shift in conversation gives Cassian whiplash–I can see it on his face. But he recovers quickly, glancing at the necklace and then smirking. “Yeah, Your Majesty. I think the Queen will love it.”
“Good.” I tuck it carefully into my jacket pocket. “Cole! Round up the prisoners. Pack everything valuable. We’re going home.”
“Yes, sir!”
The order spreads through our forces like wildfire, and within minutes the entire battlefield shifts from slaughter to logistics. Prisoners are bound, treasure is cataloged, bodies are counted.
The pack we just saved–what’s left of them–emerges from their hiding spots, eyes wide and grateful and fucking reverent as they look at me.
Their Alpha approaches first, a middle–aged wolf with gray in his beard and too much relief in his eyes. “Your Majesty. We can’t thank you enough. You saved our pack, our families, our-
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “Just doing my job. Protecting Imperial territories and all that.”
“Please, let us prepare a ceremony. A feast in your honor. It’s the least we can do”
“No.”
He blinks. “But-”
“I’ve been gone a week.” I start walking toward where our transport is waiting. “I’m going home. You want to thank me? Rebuild. Fortify. Don’t let this shit happen again.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Of course.” He’s practically tripping over himself to keep up. “Is there anything else we can provide? Anything you need for your journey?”
I’m about to say no when the Luna approaches–young and with that calculated look in her eyes that I’ve seen a thousand times before.
She reaches for my hand, shaking it with a grip that lingers just a fraction too long. “Your Majesty,” she purrs. “We are so grateful for your intervention. Truly, you’ve saved us all.”
I pull my hand back like she’s diseased. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
“If there’s anything–anything at all—that we can do to repay you…”
The implication is so obvious it’s almost insulting.
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Chapter 101
who actually makes this jump
Tessa’s done good work.
KS72%E
There’s already a body down there–positioned just right, face destroyed beyond recognition, dressed in clothes similar to mine. From a distance, in the dark, after a fall like this?
I’ll be me.
As far as anyone knows, the Queen couldn’t live with her grief and threw herself into the sea.
Tragic. Poetic. Final.
My phone buzzes.
You sure about this? Tessa’s message reads. Once you jump, there’s no going back.
I stare at the screen for a long moment.
Think about Alaric, probably sleeping in some war camp right now, dreaming of coming home to me.
Think about Marg and Tully, walking back through those passages alone.
Think about my father, dead because of a king’s command.
Think about the girl I used to be, before bonds and betrayal and impossible choices.
I type back: I’m sure.
Then I take a breath.
And I jump.
立
AD
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14:24 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 102
Chapter 102
ALARIC
Blood tastes like victory.
72%
5uchers
I rip my claws out of the rogue’s throat and let his body drop, already moving to the next target. Three wolves rush me at once–stupid fucking bastards–and I meet them head–on with grin that’s all teeth and violence.
The first one loses his jaw. Literally. I tear it clean off and throw at the second wolf’s face just to watch him stumble in shock before I gut him like a fish.
The third one actually tries to run.
I catch him by the spine and snap.
“Next!” I roar into the chaos, and fuck, I’m alive right now. Blood sprays across my chest, warm and sticky, and somewhere in the distance I can hear Beta Cole shouting orders, organizing our forces, doing all that strategic bullshit I can’t be bothered with.
Because I’m not here to strategize.
I’m here to end this.
The battlefield is a beautiful fucking mess–fire licking at what’s left of the village structures, bodies strewn across torn earth. the air thick with smoke and screams and the wet crunch of bone breaking under superior force. This was supposed to be a smaller territory under Imperial Pack protection. Peaceful. Safe.
Until these rogue pieces of shit decided to invade.
Bad. Fucking. Choice.
I decapitate another wolf mid–lunge, his head rolling away while his body keeps running for three steps before it realizes it’s dead. Almost poetic.
Sorin would appreciate that, I think, and just the thought of her name sends a fresh surge of adrenaline through my y
Sorin. My mate. My queen. My gorgeous, infuriating, perfect little bird waiting for me back at the palace.
I’ve been gone a week.
Seven days of sleeping in war camps and covered in blood that isn’t mine and dreaming about what I’m going to do to her the second I get home. How I’m going to strip her down slowly, piece by fucking piece, until she’s trembling beneath me. How I’m going to taste every inch of her skin and make her scream my name loud enough that the entire pack knows exactly who their queen belongs to.
The thought makes me harder than any amount of violence ever could.
“Your Majesty!” One of our warriors–some kid whose name I don’t give a shit about–points toward a cluster of rogues regrouping near the burned–out barn. “The leader’s there!”
Finally.
I’ve been carving through his pathetic army for hours, waiting for the main event. Because killing foot soldiers is satisfying, sure, but it’s not cathartic. Not the way killing the man who orchestrated this whole clusterfuck will be.
I stalk toward the barn, and wolves part around me like the Red fucking Sea. Even our own warriors give me a wide berth. Smart. I’m not exactly in a “friendly fire prevention” mood right now.
16
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D
成72%
Vouchers
The rogue leader is exactly what I expected middle–aged, scarred, with that desperate gleam in his eyes that comes from a man who knows he’s already lost but hasn’t accepted it yet.
He’s surrounded by his “elite guard–five wolves who probably think they’re intimidating.
I kill all five before the leader can blink.
It’s almost disappointing how easy they go down. No challenge. No artistry. Just efficient, brutal execution.
The leader stumbles backward, tripping over one of his own men’s corpses.
“Wait!” he screams, hands up. “Wait, please, I can
we can negotiate! I have information! I have-”
I grab him by the throat and lift him off his feet.
“Negotiate?” I let the word roll around my mouth, tasting it. “You attacked an Imperial Pack territory. Killed innocent wolves. Burned their homes.” I tilt my head, studying him like he’s a particularly interesting insect. “What the fuck makes you think there’s anything to negotiate?”
“Please-“He’s choking, clawing at my hand. “Please, Your Majesty, we were just–we needed-”
“Needed what?” I squeeze harder, just enough to make breathing a struggle but not enough to kill. Not yet. “Tell me what was worth dying for.”
I drop him.
He lands hard, gasping, clutching his throat.
Beta Cole appears at my side, silent and efficient as always. He’s holding a blade–not his, probably taken from one of the dead rogues–and he offers it to me without a word.
Good man.
I crouch down in front of the rogue leader, spinning the blade in my fingers. “I’m this pack?”
going to ask you once. Why did attack
you
“We-” He coughs, blood speckling his lips. “We needed supplies Food. Shelter. We were starving-”
“Bullshit.” I press the blade’s tip against his kneecap. Not cutting Not yet. Just… promising. “Try again.”
“The treasure!” The words burst out of him in a rush. “There was treasure here. Valuables. We heard this pack was we that they had artifacts, jewels, things we could sell-”
“So you’re thieves.” I push the blade in just a little. He screams. “Murderous, pathetic little thieves who slaughter families for profit.”
“We were desperate! We just wanted to survive!”
“By killing children?”
He goes very, very still.
“Yeah.” I smile, and I know what he sees: death looking back at him. “We found the bodies. What was it, twelve kids? Thirteen? Hard to count when they’re in that many pieces.”
“I didn’t–that wasn’t-”
“Save it.” I stand up, wiping the blade on my pants. “Cole. Bring me their ‘treasure.”
14:24 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 102
The Beta nods and disappears into what’s left of the barn.
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The rogue leader’s eyes light up with something that looks dangerously like hope. “You’ll take it You’ll spare us if we give you everything?”
I don’t answer. Just wait,
Cole returns with three large sacks, dumping them at my feet. They clink and clatter with the unmistakable sound of loot.
“Open them,” I order.
Cole complies, untying each sack and spreading the contents across the blood–soaked ground.
I have to admit–it’s an impressive haul. Gold coins, silver artifacts, jeweled daggers, ancient–looking sculptures, ornate candlesticks that probably came from the pack’s ceremonial hall. The kind of shit that would fetch a fortune on the black market.
The rogue leader is practically vibrating with hope now. “See? See, Your Majesty? It’s all yours. Every piece. We’ll leave. We’ll never come back. Just–just let us go. Please.”
I crouch down again, sifting through the treasures with one hand
And then I see it.
A necklace.
It’s delicate, almost fragile–looking among all the gaudy gold and harsh silver. A thin chain supporting a pendant–deep blue sapphire surrounded by small diamonds that catch the firelight and throw it back in a thousand different directions.
Blue like Sorin’s eyes.
I pick it up carefully, letting it dangle from my fingers. The craftsmanship is exquisite. Old. Probably worth more than this entire shithole territory.
But that’s not why I want it.
I want it because I can already see it against Sorin’s throat. Can already imagine how the blue will make her eyes look more impossibly vibrant. How the delicate chain will rest against her collarbones, drawing attention to all that pale going to mark up the second I get her alone.
“My queen would love this,” I murmur, more to myself than anyone else.
The rogue leader latches onto my words like a lifeline. “Yes! Yes, Your Majesty, it’s yours! All of it is yours! Please, we can work together, we can—”
“Thank you,” I say sincerely.
Then I drive the blade through his socket.
eye
He dies with that pathetic hope still frozen on his face.
I stand up, wiping brain matter off my hand, and admire the necklace again. Perfect. Absolutely fucking perfect.
“Was that necessary?”
I turn to find Beta Cassian–the envoy from the Eastern territories who joined us for this little excursion–staring at me with something uncomfortably close to judgment.
“Was what necessary?” I ask mildly.
14:24 Sat, Jan 31
Chapter 102
72%藥
6 vouchers
“Killing him.” Cassian gestures at the corpse. “He was willing to give you everything. To cooperate. You could have just-
“Could have what?” I interrupt, genuinely curious. “Let him live Pat him on the head and send him on his way with a stern warning about the dangers of invading sovereign territory?”
“He was begging for his life-
“He killed babies.” I say it flatly, matter–of–fact. “His pack slaughtered thirteen children under the age of ten. Ripped thern apart for fun while their parents watched.” I step closer to Cassian, letting him see exactly what’s looking back at him. “So yeah, Envoy. I killed him. And I’d do it again. And again. And fucking again if I had the chance.”
Cassian’s throat works. He looks away.
Smart man.
“Now.” I hold up the necklace, letting my tone lighten. “Do you think Sorin will like this?”
The shift in conversation gives Cassian whiplash–I can see it on his face. But he recovers quickly, glancing at the necklace and then smirking. “Yeah, Your Majesty. I think the Queen will love it.”
“Good.” I tuck it carefully into my jacket pocket. “Cole! Round up the prisoners. Pack everything valuable. We’re going home.”
“Yes, sir!”
The order spreads through our forces like wildfire, and within minutes the entire battlefield shifts from slaughter to logistics. Prisoners are bound, treasure is cataloged, bodies are counted.
The pack we just saved–what’s left of them–emerges from their hiding spots, eyes wide and grateful and fucking reverent as they look at me.
Their Alpha approaches first, a middle–aged wolf with gray in his beard and too much relief in his eyes. “Your Majesty. We can’t thank you enough. You saved our pack, our families, our-
“Yeah, yeah.” I wave him off. “Just doing my job. Protecting Imperial territories and all that.”
“Please, let us prepare a ceremony. A feast in your honor. It’s the least we can do-”
“No.”
He blinks. “But—”
“I’ve been gone a week.” I start walking toward where our transport is waiting. “I’m going home. You want to thank me? Rebuild. Fortify. Don’t let this shit happen again.”
“Of course, Your Majesty. Of course.” He’s practically tripping over himself to keep up. “Is there anything else we can provide? Anything you need for your journey?”
I’m about to say no when the Luna approaches–young and with that calculated look in her eyes that I’ve seen a thousand times before.
She reaches for my hand, shaking it with a grip that lingers just a fraction too long. “Your Majesty,” she purrs. “We are so grateful for your intervention. Truly, you’ve saved us all.”
I pull my hand back like she’s diseased. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”
“If there’s anything–anything at all–that we can do to repay you…
The implication is so obvious it’s almost insulting.
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Chapter 102
I look past her to her Alpha. “Dude. Get your woman under control before I forget she’s under my protection”
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- Vouchers
The Alpha goes bright red and immediately yanks his Luna backward. She looks furious, but I’m already done with this
conversation.
“Actually, I say, remembering the necklace in my pocket. “I need a case. Something to protect jewelry”
The Luna perks up again. “Jewelry? For who?”
“My woman.” I don’t elaborate. Don’t need to.
Her face falls spectacularly. “Oh. Of course. I’ll have one brought immediately.”
She disappears in a huff, and I almost laugh.
Five minutes later, I have a velvet–lined case that’s probably worth more than this entire village, and I’m loading up Beta Cole and the rest of our forces for the journey home.
Home.
To Sorin.
with
The thought makes my wolf pace restlessly under my skin. It’s been too fucking long. A week of blood and battle and sleeping in a tent when I should have been in my bed with my mate wrapped around me.
But the war’s over now.
And I’m going home to collect my prize.
***
The Imperial Pack grounds come into view just after sunset, and the sight of it–massive stone walls, towering palace, the sprawling territory that belongs to me–should feel triumphant
Instead, something feels wrong.
I can’t name it. I can’t pinpoint what exactly is setting my teeth on edge. But there’s this… feeling. This crawling unea the base of my skull that gets worse the closer we get.
“Your Majesty?” Cole glances at me. “Everything alright?”
“Fine.” I pick up the pace, practically running now.
The gates open before we reach them, and the entire pack spills out to greet us. Warriors, civilians, children–all cheering, celebrating our victory, shouting my name like I’m some kind of conquering hero.
I barely hear them.
I’m scanning the crowd, looking for her. For blue eyes and dark hair and that smile that makes my chest feel too tight.
She should be here. Should be waiting at the front, ready to throw herself into my arms the way she did before I left.
But I don’t see her.
“Make way!” Someone’s shouting. “The King has returned! Make way!”
The crowd parts, and I stride through them, heading straight for the palace entrance.
That’s when I see Margaret.
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Chapter 102
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Sorin’s maid. Her friend. The girl who follows her around like adow and makes sure my mate eats properly and doesn’t work herself to death.
She’s standing at the top of the palace steps, and she’s shaking.
Her face is blotchy, eyes red and swollen, and when she sees me she makes a sound that’s halfway between a sob and a gasp.
Everything inside me goes cold.
“Where is she?” I demand, taking the steps three at a time.
Marg opens her mouth. Closes it. Tears stream down her face.
“Where is my mate?” The words come out layered with alpha command, so powerful that wolves across the courtyard drop to their knees.
“Your Majesty” Marg’s voice breaks. “Her Majesty, the Queen–she’s-”
“Where. Is. Sorin.”
“She’s gone.” The words are barely a whisper. “She’s–Your Majesty, the Queen is-”
But I’m already pushing past her, already sprinting through the palace halls, already knowing–knowing–that when I reach our chambers, they’re going to be empty.
And somewhere in the back of my mind, past the panic and the fury and the dawning horror, one thought crystallizes with perfect, terrible clarity:
No.
No, no, no-
This can’t be happening.
She can’t be gone.
She’s mine.
Where are you, Sorin?