"I heard there's some commotion happening in the empire," Xane said lazily, stepping into the room like he belonged there.
His voice held that usual amused tone, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear it anyway. "What has your pretty wife done this time?"
Kael didn't even lift his eyes. He grabbed the goblet, tilted it back, and drank the entire thing in one go. The wine barely burned anymore.
"She's not as pretty as you claim," he muttered, voice rough. "And stop calling her that."
Xane chuckled quietly, pouring himself a drink without asking. He always did whatever he wanted. Nothing about him belonged to this realm, except maybe the land itself.
He was the last of his kind. A half-dragon shifter half-witch. Born from fire and magic. The only living soul left from the ancestral tribe of the Firebirds. They used to say those born of that bloodline could call lightning to their palms and speak to the skies.
Now, only Xane remained.
He looked untouched by time. His hair was white as snow, long and silky, falling down his back like strands of silver. His skin was sun-kissed and smooth, eyes bright green like emerald flames—always watching, always seeing too much. And that face, sharp-boned and striking, with a mouth that smirked like he'd been through a thousand lifetimes and still found everything amusing.
He was the one who had pulled Blue out of the snow the other day.
Now, summoned to the palace because of the strange attacks and rising rumors about dead men walking, he stood beside them, pouring wine like it was just another evening.
Laziel didn't speak. He stood by the window, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the mountains in the distance.
Kael slammed his cup down again.
"She looks so innocent," he growled, jaw tight. "But she has the mind of something darker."
Xane sipped his wine, then turned his head slightly. "And this mistress of yours? You believe her just like that?"
Kael stiffened.
Xane's voice didn't change. "It's her word against your mate's, isn't it?"
Laziel turned slowly, silver eyes flashing with heat.
"Lucia would never lie to us," he snapped. "She's loyal. She's one of us. Not like that Albenia bitch."
Xane only smiled wider, and his quiet laugh made Kael's hand twitch.
"She fucking saved us from the poison," Kael muttered. "Of course we believe her."
Xane looked into his cup. "The girl I helped out of the snow didn't seem like someone who could hurt anyone. She could barely meet your gazes."
"That's because she's good at pretending," Laziel said bitterly. "She's fooled everyone. Don't fall for those wide eyes and soft words."
Xane said nothing after that. His eyes drifted toward the fire, and his face lost all humor. For once, he just watched.
---
Far below the palace, in the cell where light barely touched, Blue lay curled against the cold stone. Her wrists were chained to the wall above her head, the heavy collar pressing into her throat. It didn't just block her voice, it blocked her wolf too.
The silence was worse than the pain.
She missed the sound of the trees. The soft voice of her mother's lullabies. Even the teasing way her Father used to say her name. All of it was gone now.
This place was cold, damp, and quiet. And it felt like the end of everything.
She pulled her knees to her chest, curling tighter until the ache in her bones settled into something dull. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep. Hoping maybe the pain would fade if she just drifted.
And then the dream came.
It always did.
A soft blue light filled the air, flickering like candle flames. The ground beneath her wasn't stone, it was grass. Warm, alive. A soft breeze moved through the air, and when she lifted her head, the woman was there.
Veiled in soft white fabric, glowing gently like the moon.
"My child…" the woman whispered, voice so familiar and faraway. "Blue Sara…"
Blue didn't speak. She was already crying. Her head moved into the woman's lap like it belonged there, and the stranger's hand stroked her hair gently.
It was the only peace she had.
"The time draws near," the woman said softly. "You must be strong now."
"I don't know how to survive this," Blue whispered. "They hate me. I've lost everything. I can't feel my wolf. I can't even breathe right anymore."
The woman's arms held her close, and Blue felt herself sinking into it, like the warmth could undo all the bruises.
"You were born to survive," the voice said again. "Born to stand in the space between light and shadow. You will be the fire that melts the snow, the howl that wakes the dead. But only if you live through this."
Blue looked up, eyes searching the veil. "I don't understand. I'm no one. A forgotten princess. An unwanted mate. My magic… it hasn't even come. How can I save anyone?"
The woman's voice dropped lower, warmer, more ancient. "When the time is right, you will know. The power is already inside you. You are not forgotten, child. You are the beginning of the end."
Before Blue could ask more, the dream was torn away.
A splash of cold water slammed into her face, shocking her awake.
She gasped, shivering, and blinked fast through the blur.
Draven stood in front of her, a bucket still dripping in his hand. His chest was rising and falling too fast. His eyes were dark, angry and distant all at once.
"You evil Albenia wolf," he hissed.
She couldn't speak at first. Her throat was sore. Her lips were cracked.
He stepped closer, and her back hit the wall behind her. Her entire body flinched.
"You think you deserve sleep?" he growled. "After what you've done? After what your kind did?"
"I didn't do it," she croaked. "I swear to you, I didn't… I'm not lying."
Her voice cracked, but she forced it out anyway,
He moved like lightning.
"You're calling Lucia a liar, then?" he snapped.
Suddenly, ice began crawling up the walls. The air turned sharp and brittle. Frost covered the floor, creeping toward her skin. She tried to move away, but there was nowhere left to go.
Draven's eyes flicked between black and pale blue. The Frost Heart and the Lycan inside him were both trying to take over.
Then a long rod of ice appeared in his hand, sharp, glowing faintly.
"You tried to kill us," he said quietly. "So I'll show you what we do to murderers."
The first hit came fast.
The rod cracked against her ankle, and a sound left her mouth that didn't even sound human. The pain was sharp, loud, endless.
She screamed so hard it echoed up the stone walls. Draven froze.
He felt something. A sharp jolt in his chest, like her pain had found a way inside him.
Blue fell to her side, clutching her ankle, blood dripping down her leg. Her cries filled the cell.
Draven stared.
Her eyes met his, red and full of tears and he felt it again.
That pain. That damn feeling that made him want to pull his own skin off.
He lifted the rod again, she flinched and shut her eyes. But he didn't hit her.
He couldn't.
Her whisper broke something in him.
"Please… please… it hurts…"
He growled, deep and loud, then turned without a word. He snapped the ice rod in his hand. The magic sealed her cell again.
And then he left. He didn't look back.
But he heard her sobbing long after he was gone.