I didn't see Lucian for two days.
After that night — after he shattered my mind and left his storm raging inside my veins — he vanished.
Not a word.
Not a warning.
Not a goddamn whisper.
The rogue kingdom churned without him — a pack of half-savage wolves snapping at the edges of my cage.
I stayed locked in the tower, trying to stitch the pieces of myself back together.
Failing miserably.
Until tonight.
Tonight, everything changed.
The door to my chambers burst open.
Not Lucian.
Someone worse.
A man I had only seen from a distance — a shadow at the edge of the kingdom, watching.
He was tall, with hair black as the grave and a grin sharp enough to gut a god.
His eyes glowed silver — not gold.
A different kind of monster.
"Aren't you prettier up close," he drawled, stepping inside like he owned the place.
My wolf bristled.
"Get out," I snarled.
He laughed — a low, dangerous sound.
"No."
He stalked toward me, slow and deliberate, the way a predator circles prey it has no intention of letting live.
"Lucian's made a mistake," he said. "He's blinded by his obsession with you. It makes him weak."
I held my ground.
"Who the hell are you?"
He smirked.
"Call me Caine. Alpha of the Black Thorns. Lucian's oldest enemy."
I bared my teeth.
"I don't belong to anyone."
Caine's grin widened.
"That's the beautiful thing, sweetheart. You don't have a choice."
Before I could move, he was in front of me — faster than any wolf I'd ever seen — pinning my wrists to the stone wall.
Not hurting me.
But close.
So close.
"You're going to leave with me," he whispered against my ear. "You're going to be my queen instead."
I shoved against him, furious, terrified.
Lucian's scent was still in my blood. His claim still burned on my skin.
I didn't want Caine.
I didn't want anyone.
I wanted out.
"You're insane," I spat.
Caine chuckled.
"Maybe. But at least I'll give you a choice — a real throne, not a cage."
His lips brushed my jaw.
A growl ripped through the doorway — savage and pure murder.
Lucian.
He hit Caine like a thunderclap.
They crashed to the floor, a tangle of fists, claws, and blood.
I stumbled back, gasping, as they shifted mid-fight — monstrous wolves tearing at each other with no mercy.
Lucian was bigger.
Faster.
But Caine was meaner — he fought dirty, landing savage blows that drew blood and worse.
"You let your whore get lonely," Caine sneered, raking bloody claws down Lucian's side.
Lucian roared and slammed him into the stone, teeth flashing.
"You touch her again," Lucian snarled, "and I'll rip your fucking heart out."
Their power battered the room, shaking the walls, sending cracks skittering through the stone.
It was chaos.
It was death.
It was beautiful.
Finally, Lucian pinned Caine, jaws at his throat.
Caine laughed breathlessly.
"Kill me, and you start a war you can't win."
Lucian's gold eyes burned into mine.
"Then let it burn," he said.
And he tore out Caine's throat.
Blood sprayed the walls.
The silence afterward was louder than the battle.
Lucian shifted back, breathing hard, covered in crimson.
He staggered toward me — ruined, feral, broken.
His hand reached for me.
"Seraphina," he rasped.
I flinched.
For the first time, I saw it clearly:
Lucian Vale wasn't my savior.
He wasn't my mate.
He was my executioner.
And I had fallen in love with my death.