Twenty-four hours had passed since her capture.
The trial had been set for that very afternoon.
According to Winter's law, anyone who attempted to ambush or harm a royal would be forced to face the Dread Test, a brutal trial meant to prove a person's will to live. There were no exceptions. And Blue… was no exception.
"You certainly cannot send her off to her own death for this!" Tia's voice cracked as she tried to reason with them.
"We can," Draven said, his voice low and rumbling. "And we will."
Tia turned to the boys she had helped raise, the same boys her sister, Freda, had poured her entire soul into shaping into good men. Kind men. But now\... all of that work seemed to have vanished into nothing.
They weren't the same anymore.
Something had shifted since the betrayal in Albenia. Since Gillian's death. Since the Frost Heart began to sink its claws into them.
Tia's heart ached. "Varys, say something! This is madness."
"My lords," Varys began, glancing between the three brothers. "Perhaps… perhaps we should pause. Blue Sara is your mate, the mother of your future heirs—"
"At this point," Laziel interrupted sharply, "we don't care about pups anymore. We can have that with anyone."
Tia gasped. The cruelty in his tone shocked her.
"You married her," she whispered. "You brought her here. You know she is destined—"
"Fuck destiny, Varys," Kael snapped, his voice bitter. "Why would we lie with the same woman who tried to end us? Not once, but twice."
Tia's hands trembled. "Then why marry her in the first place?" she cried out, unable to contain her pain anymore. "You believe your mistress's lies over an innocent girl. And now you want to send her to her death? For what? Strength? Honor?"
She paused, her voice shaking.
"We all know she isn't capable of hurting a fly… but your hatred for her has blinded you so completely, you can't see the truth anymore."
Draven stepped forward slowly. The air grew colder with each step.
The Frost Heart was stirring inside him.
Tia took a step back, her breath catching as the room's temperature dropped. Frost began to curl along the walls.
"You have no right to question our anger," Draven said, his voice like steel. "No right."
"My lord, please, your Aunt, meant no harm," Varys tried again.
But Draven turned his gaze on the old man, and that was enough to silence him.
"Blue, deserves worse," he growled. "And worse, she will receive."
Tia began to shiver. Frost had started crawling up her arms.
"You need her," Tia whispered, voice fading as the cold wrapped around her bones. "Please, Draven... the Frost Heart will consume you. You need her…"
She didn't finish. Her legs gave out and she crumpled to the floor, her body overtaken by ice.
Laziel and Kael said nothing. They stood behind their brother, eyes glowing with the same cold fury, the same wild storm of power that had begun to twist everything inside them.
"My lords…" Varys pleaded, dropping to his knees beside her.
Tia wasn't moving.
Draven's voice turned hollow, laced with the growl of his lycan beast.
"Prepare what's needed for the trial. The prisoner begins her journey at dusk."
And without another word, all three men shifted into their Lycan, bones cracking, fur bursting from flesh, before they launched themselves through the glass, disappearing into the wild in rampage form.
It was always like this. When the power of the beast clashed with the Frost Heart… they lost control.
Varys stood quickly. "Guards!" he called out. "Take Lady Tia to her room. Now!"
---
In Blue's Cell
Blue lay curled on the cold stone floor.
Her body felt hollow. Heavy. Like it was giving up.
Her lips were dry, cracked. Her throat burned from thirst, and her stomach hadn't stopped twisting in pain since the day before.
But worst of all was the wound on her leg. It had festered, red, hot, swollen. It burned so badly she could barely think.
Without her wolf, she couldn't heal.
And without healing… her body was shutting down.
She heard footsteps approaching.
She didn't look. Didn't flinch. Maybe one of them had come to finish the job. To punish her more.
She didn't even care anymore.
But the voice that followed was not one of theirs.
"What a pitiful sight you are, little one."
It wasn't harsh… just quiet. Curious.
She opened her eyes slowly and lifted her head, trying to place it.
The man standing before her was unfamiliar. But there was something in his eyes, something she recognized.
"They call me Xane," he said, stepping closer.
She blinked, confused. "How did you…? You were outside. How are you here?"
He didn't answer that.
"Have you come to hurt me too? Your own?"
He looked surprised. Then… almost sad.
"No," he murmured.
He knelt beside her. She didn't have the strength to move away.
When his hand reached for her leg, she flinched, but didn't stop him. He examined the wound carefully, his jaw tightening at the sight of it.
"It was you," she whispered. "From the other day…"
He nodded. "Yes. It was me."
"Which of them did this?" he asked quietly.
"Draven." Her voice was dry. She had no tears left.
He said nothing at first. Just pressed his palm over the wound, and then whispered something, words that felt older than anything she'd ever heard.
A soft white light began to bloom from his hand.
She gasped, watching in stunned silence as the wound began to knit itself back together.
She couldn't look away. Even as the pain faded and the flesh healed, she stared at him, at the quiet focus in his eyes, the gentleness in his touch.
When he finished, she just stared.
He chuckled softly. "That was a healing ritual. You're welcome."
He stood, then tossed a small cloth bundle beside her. She opened it with trembling fingers.
Food, Real food. Bread, Meat and a pouch of water.
She didn't speak. She just ate. Fast. Desperate. As if the food might disappear if she paused.
When she was finally done, she looked up at him. Her voice was soft, uncertain.
"Why are you helping me? You don't even know me. You're their ally. Their friend. Why do this?"
"Because I can," he said simply. "And because you'll need your strength."
She looked down again. "I'm innocent," she whispered. "I swear I am. But no one believes me…"
Tears rolled down her cheeks, quiet and slow.
"What matters now is that you prove yourself," Xane said.
"How? I don't even own my freedom anymore."
He crouched again. This time, he took her hands gently in his.
She looked up, startled to meet his gaze.
"You're more than you know, Blue," he said. "And there are destinies tied to your survival."
She stared, unsure what to say.
"Have you ever heard of the Regco dragon shifters?"
Her brow furrowed. "My nanny used to read to me about the fire bird shifters... the dragons. But they're gone. Extinct."
"Not all of us," he said with a quiet smile.
Her eyes widened. "You—? But how?"
"I keep a low profile," he said, with a small shrug.
Her thoughts spun. Then her heart clenched. Ozra.
She had no idea what had happened to him. If he was still alive… or taken.
As if he could read her thoughts, Xane reached into his cloak.
Her body tensed.
And then… just like that, Ozra appeared in his hands.
Her dragon. Her tiny, beautiful firebird.
He flew straight into her arms, nuzzling into her chest as she let out a soft, broken cry.
"Oh, Ozra…" she whispered. "How… how is this real?"
Tears streamed down her face as she hugged him close. His warmth spread into her body like sunlight.
"He's yours," Xane said. "And he's here for a reason."
She looked up. "What reason?"
"Your trial begins in a few hours," he said. "The triplets have chosen the Journey of Truth. You'll need him for that."
Panic fluttered in her chest. "But how do I even…?"
"Ozra knows," he said softly. "Trust him. And trust yourself. No matter what happens… don't fail."
Then, before she could ask more, he stepped back, his body shimmering, and vanished into thin air.
Blue stared at the empty space where he'd been.
Then slowly looked down at Ozra, curled against her chest.
The firebird looked up at her. Warm. Alive, and oddly seemed Ready for whatever awaited them.