POV: Raevan
The fortress had fallen into its late-night quiet, the kind that seeps into walls and settles over the sand like a heavy blanket. Only the distant patrols and the soft crackling of lanterns broke the silence. Soraya still hadn’t woken—her breathing shallow but steady, her body cooling from the feverish heat that came with magic overload.
I hadn’t left her side.
Not to eat. Not to rest. Not even when Kaide insisted. The moon dipped lower, painting her skin in pale silver. I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. My wolf rumbled, calmer now but hovering protectively beneath my skin.
No one would harm her again.
Not Zarek.
Not the elders.
Not even Ashra wolves who feared what they didn’t understand.
Especially not Azhara.
A soft sound pulled my attention to the corridor—footsteps too light to belong to Kaide or the guards. My shoulders tensed. I stood slowly, leaving Soraya only long enough to position myself where I could see both her and whoever approached.
The footsteps paused.
Then—
“Azhara,” I said without turning my head, “if you take one more step into this chamber, you won’t walk out.”
She appeared in the doorway, draped in midnight-blue silk. Her hair was undone, falling wildly around her shoulders. Her eyes were bloodshot. Whatever carefully curated composure she normally wore had cracked completely.
“So you can smell me now,” she hissed. “Perfect. Then smell what she’s doing to you.”
I stepped forward, blocking Soraya from her sight. “Leave.”
She laughed—sharp and breaking. “You think I came here to argue?”
My muscles tightened instantly. “What did you come here for?”
Her eyes flicked past me, toward Soraya’s still, fragile form. That one glance sent cold fury flooding through my chest. My wolf lunged so hard inside me I almost shifted on the spot.
“Kaide!” I barked.
But Azhara moved like a striking serpent—fast, silent, fueled by desperation. Something glinted in her hand—a small glass vial, pale green liquid glowing faintly inside.
Poison.
She didn’t throw it.
She didn’t hesitate.
She aimed directly for Soraya’s mouth.
I lunged, but someone else moved faster.
A hand slammed into Azhara’s wrist. Hard. The vial flew from her fingers, spinning through the air. A second hand caught her throat and shoved her back against the stone wall.
Kaide.
His eyes were murder-dark, his jaw clenched hard enough to crack.
“What,” he said through his teeth, “the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Azhara choked out, “She’s dangerous—Raevan doesn’t see—she’ll ruin everything—”
“She’ll ruin nothing,” Kaide snarled, pressing harder. “But you? A royal bride poisoning a helpless girl? That would ruin kingdoms.”
She thrashed, but Kaide was stronger, faster, angrier.
I retrieved the vial before it could shatter. The liquid inside shimmered a sickly shade. I pulled the stopper and sniffed cautiously.
Vienne’s voice echoed in my mind.
Poison only used in old executions. A drop stops magic. Two drops stop the heart.
My grip tightened around the vial until glass creaked.
I turned to Azhara.
“You came here,” I said quietly, “to murder her.”
“No!” she rasped. “I came to stop her before she destroys what we’ve built—before she destroys you—”
I stepped closer. “She saved Ashra scouts. She stabilized the border. She risked her life for wolves who spit at her. What have you done, Azhara?”
She bared her teeth. “Loved you!”
“That,” I snarled, “was never love.”
Kaide shoved her harder. Her head struck the wall with a dull thud. She whimpered.
But still she glared at me, unhinged, wild. “You don’t understand what she is! She’s Zehrael. Cursed. Born to drive men mad. To turn packs against each other. Her kind nearly—”
“Her kind is the reason you’re breathing,” I snapped. “If not for her, Zarek would have sent your head in a box.”
“She is not Ashra!” Azhara spat. “She doesn’t belong here—she doesn’t belong with you—”
My wolf roared inside me.
“I decide who belongs with me,” I growled. “And you lost that right months ago.”
Azhara’s expression cracked—anguish, hatred, desperation mixing into something ugly.
“You’ll destroy us both,” she whispered. “You’ll give up everything—your throne, your future, your people—for a girl who doesn’t even want you.”
Kaide’s grip loosened slightly—not out of sympathy, but because her words hit something raw in the air.
I stared at her.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel anger.
I didn’t feel betrayal.
I felt pity.
“You’re right,” I said softly.
Azhara’s eyes widened, hope flickering for a heartbeat—
“—she doesn’t want me.”
The hope died instantly.
“But I will still protect her.”
Azhara sagged against Kaide’s hold, a tremor shaking her. “You’ll regret this.”
“Perhaps,” I said. “But I will regret nothing more than letting you hurt her.”
Kaide shoved her toward the door. “Out. Before I forget you’re Raevan’s betrothed.”
“I am his fiancée,” Azhara snarled. “Promised by the council—”
“Not anymore,” I said. “Tomorrow, I will dissolve it.”
She froze.
“You can’t.”
“I can. And I will.”
Her face crumpled—grief, fury, disbelief. She backed away slowly, then ran, silk fluttering behind her, steps echoing down the hall like the unraveling of her world.
Kaide exhaled sharply, rubbing his forehead. “I should’ve broken her arm.”
I stared at the vial in my hand. “You should have broken her neck.”
He sighed. “Would’ve, if Soraya wasn’t watching.”
That made me turn.
Soraya still lay unconscious, breathing steady.
Unaware she had almost died again.
Kaide placed a hand on my shoulder. “Raevan… this will get worse before it gets better.”
“I know.”
“Elders will explode. The court will riot. Azhara’s family—”
“I don’t care.”
Kaide nodded once. “Then I stand with you.”
He left quietly.
I walked back to Soraya’s bedside and sat. Slowly, gently, I took her hand in mine.
“You’re safe,” I whispered. “I swear it. No one touches you again.”
My wolf pressed against my skin, protective and restless.
“And I will burn this empire,” I murmured, “before I let them take you from me.”