“So I didn’t kill him,” she whispered. “I made him love me.”
Cillian smiled faintly at Vaelora’s words, and it twisted something deep in Evelyne’s gut.
“A shifter bloodline?” Evelyne whispered under her breath.
Vaelora’s eyes shifted to her.
“Oh? He didn’t mention that part either?” she asked, feigning surprise as her brows lifted.
“That he could sense the dormant magic in you? Smell it in your blood—just as I did?” Her gaze slid to Kaldrek then, and she clicked her tongue.“Tsk. Honestly, Kaldrek. Did you truly think deceit would serve you well?”
Evelyne turned toward him where they knelt, and the guilt in his expression hollowed something in her. “Tell me,” she said, her voice barely holding together.
He met her eyes. “Evelyne—”
“Tell me.”
Kaldrek’s eyes shut tight, as though the words cut too deep. “You bear the blood of a wolf lineage,” he whispered.
Silence slammed into her like a blow. Her lips parted, but no sound came.
“What?” Alaric’s voice broke the stillness. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Because I’m descended not just from wolves, but from witches. What Vaelora said… It’s true.” Kaldrek exhaled slowly and looked to Evelyne. “I sensed it once. Faintly. That day you… slapped me in your tent.” A wry smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, then faded.
“I thought I imagined it. Maybe I didn’t want to believe it. But as we grew closer—more connected—it became impossible to ignore. The scent was there.” Kaldrek swallowed. “That’s when I knew. You were one of us. And I think… I think that’s why I was so drawn to you, Evelyne. Because something inside me already recognized you, even if I was too much of a coward to face it.”
He shook his head.
“I wanted to tell you. Gods, I did. But everything was happening so fast, and there was never the right moment, and I—” His voice faltered, cracking under the weight of the truth. “Fuck.” His head dropped, his shoulders tight with regret.
Evelyne’s breath came too fast, too shallow. The truth kept coming, each word a blade carving deeper. That day in the tent, when she’d recoiled in humiliation, thinking he had sniffed her like an animal, he’dknown.
Another secret. Another betrayal. Something inside her began to fracture. Questions burned through her: about the prophecy, her lineage, and everything she thought she knew. But one question roared louder than the rest.
She looked at Vaelora. “You diverted the prophecy. You infected his mind with some type of dark parasitic demon, just to make him love you. Why?”
“As I told you, a prophecy cannot be destroyed. Had I killed him, another heir would have risen in time. But love?” Vaelora tilted her head. “Love is a leash stronger than death. So I made him mine. My equal. My lover.”
“But when he dies, won’t the prophecy pass to the next heir?” Alaric asked.
“Of course,” Vaelora murmured, gliding down the dais like a shadow made flesh. “Which is why it’s so wonderfully convenient that my son placed Evelyne right into my hands.” Her smile deepened. “Funny. I hadn’t considered it until my scouts reported she was still traveling with the wolves, even after I’d sent a very clear warning. I’ll admit, for a moment, I feared she might spoil my fun. But then I realized she could be the key to ending the prophecy entirely.” Her black eyes glistened as she looked down at Evelyne. “Because you, my dear, will be his sacrifice. Cillian’s final offering so that I may awaken the blood magic once more, seize greater power, and grant my beloved an eternal life… by my side.”
“You will not touch her, Vaelora,” Kaldrek growled.
Evelyne had never felt so utterly powerless, not for her own sake, but for Cillian. Her brother, who was once radiant in every way, was now tainted by shadow and bound to Vaelora by chains. “You’re a monster,” she hissed.
“Maybe, but at least I’m a powerful one.”
“Bitch,” Holden muttered under his breath.
Vaelora sighed with theatrical boredom.
“Charming. But if we’re done with the name-calling, can someone please explain why Obren Glaciermawis still playing house with the Ironwolf pack? I thought we were past this little rebellion phase.”
The question hung in the air, but Obren quickly responded, his voice teasing. “How could I resist the chance to kneel before the most beautiful witch queen in the entire continent?”
“The wall you build to hide your true emotions is made of glass, Obren. And I can shatter it with ease.”
