The dim light of the moon filtered through the narrow windows of Seraphine’s stronghold, casting long shadows across the stone walls. Misery paced her quarters, her usually confident demeanor shattered by the whispers she’d overheard from Seraphine’s spies.
“Adrian’s been captured,” one had muttered, their voice laced with disdain. “Cassian’s jailers will make sure he doesn’t survive long.”
The words replayed in Misery’s mind like a haunting melody. Adrian’s face, his quiet resilience, his unyielding loyalty to Lyra—they all flashed before her. She couldn’t let him suffer. She wouldn’t.
Her hands trembled as she strapped a blade to her thigh and gathered what supplies she could find. She knew the risk she was taking, knew that Seraphine would never forgive her if she was caught. But Adrian had been like family once, back when she was still part of the vampire court. He didn’t deserve this fate.
“I have to save him,” she whispered to herself, her resolve solidifying like steel.
As she slid another dagger into her boot, the door creaked open. Misery’s head shot up, her crimson eyes meeting Eryon’s amber gaze. His expression was unreadable, but the tension in his shoulders betrayed his suspicion.
“Where are you going?” he demanded, stepping into the room with a predator’s grace.
Misery hesitated for a heartbeat before squaring her shoulders. “Adrian’s been captured. Cassian’s holding him in the pack’s dungeons. If I don’t do something, he’ll die.”
Eryon’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “And you think you can just waltz in there and save him? Alone?”
Her voice wavered, but her determination didn’t falter. “I have to try. He doesn’t deserve this, Eryon. You wouldn’t understand—”
“Then explain it to me,” he snapped, his wolf instincts flaring. “Why are you risking your life for him?”
Misery stepped closer, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “Because I knew him before all of this. Before the war, before the betrayals. He was a child, Eryon, a scared boy thrust into a world of monsters. He’s always fought for others, always protected the people he loves. I can’t let him die like this.”
Eryon’s expression darkened, his wolf instincts battling the human emotion flickering in his gaze. “And what about me?” he asked, his voice low and rough. “What happens to me if you don’t come back?”
Misery reached up, placing a trembling hand on his chest. The heat of his skin beneath her palm steadied her, but only just. “You don’t have to understand, Eryon. But I have to do this. For him. For who he used to be.”
She leaned up, her lips brushing against his in a soft, lingering kiss. Tears slipped down her cheeks, her heart aching with the weight of what she was about to do. “Goodbye, Eryon,” she whispered, pulling away before he could stop her.
Eryon watched her go, his wolf instincts roaring in protest as the door clicked shut behind her.