Pain tore through Ariaxa’s shoulder like fire.
The blade sliced just beneath her collarbone — shallow enough to spare her life, deep enough to steal her breath. She gasped, staggering backward, her hand flying to the wound as warmth spread down her arm.
Seren jerked her wrist back, poison dripping from the hidden blade, eyes wild with triumph.
“One cut is all I need,” she hissed. “It only takes one—”
The chamber doors exploded inward.
Kaedan didn’t enter.
He crashed in.
Two of Seren’s loyalists leapt onto him from the shadows, tackling him sideways. They clawed, kicked, and stabbed in panic — but it was like attacking a storm.
Kaedan bellowed — a sound that shook the very air.
He seized one follower by the jaw and twisted.
A sickening crack.
The second he slammed into a pillar so violently the marble split.
Ariaxa’s breath trembled. She’d seen Kaedan angry. She’d seen him lose control. But this — this was something primal, ancient, terrifying.
Seren stood frozen for a heartbeat, staring at the bodies.
Then she laughed.
Not mocking.
Not triumphant.
A broken hysterical laugh that trembled through her entire body.
“See?” she shouted hoarsely, tears streaking down her cheeks. “He came running!”
Kaedan didn’t respond.
He sprinted straight past the corpses, straight past the fallen weapons, straight to Ariaxa.
His hands gripped her shoulders. His breath shook. “Ariaxa—Ariaxa, look at me. Where are you hurt?”
Seren watched the way he touched Ariaxa — not possessive, not careful, but devastated — and something inside her shattered.
“That,” she whispered, “that right there… you see it? You see why you needed to die?”
Kaedan whirled toward her, fury exploding across his face.
He lunged.
Seren didn’t run.
She didn’t scream.
She met him head-on, lifting her chin with defiant grief.
Kaedan grabbed her by the throat, lifting her off the ground. His hand shook — not with effort, but with barely contained rage.
“You tried to kill her,” he growled, voice a beast’s snarl.
Seren didn’t fight his grip.
Didn’t claw.
Didn’t beg.
She only looked at Ariaxa.
“You stole my world.”
Ariaxa stumbled forward, clutching her wounded shoulder. “Kaedan—stop. Don’t kill her. Please.”
Kaedan jerked his head toward her, eyes burning with two wars — revenge and obedience.
“Ariaxa—”
“Let her choose,” she whispered, bleeding, breath unsteady. “Let her decide her fate.”
The chamber fell deathly silent.
Seren’s gaze flicked between them — Kaedan’s shaking hand on her throat, Ariaxa’s trembling form, the wound soaking her silk in red.
Her lips twisted in something like a smile.
“Oh, she decides everything now, doesn’t she?”
Kaedan’s grip loosened despite himself.
He was listening to Ariaxa.
Always listening.
And Seren saw her last chance.
“You think you saved him,” she whispered to Ariaxa. “You have no idea what you’ve done.”
She twisted suddenly.
Kaedan reacted on instinct.
His blade — the hidden one strapped to his hip — slid halfway from its sheath.
Seren saw the gleam of silver.
And before Kaedan could yank the weapon away—
Before Ariaxa could scream—
Before Riven could reach the doorway—
Seren wrenched herself free from Kaedan’s grip.
She lunged forward.
And threw herself onto Kaedan’s blade.
Her body jerked.
Her breath hitched once.
Her head fell forward against his chest.
Kaedan froze, horror flooding his face.
Ariaxa screamed.