The break of dawn came. Elias was quiet, not the kind of calm that meant peace, but the kind that came after the storm, where every sound felt too loud and every silence too loaded. He sat by the window, his legs pushed harder into his chest, his face covered in one of Rowan's cloaks. Everything had happened so fast, and they had not had time to go dress hunting and fitting.
Staring at the snow as it settled on the damn floor, his thoughts went viral. That message echoed in his mind like a broken relic.
"You may keep the body… but the soul is mine."
Kael's handwriting was undoubtedly always neat, and every letter was carved like a relic to his favorite song. The sun was up, but Elias did not feel like stepping out. He did not want to be reminded of how caged his life was.
The door creaked open, and Rowan marched in. He looked anything but peaceful. His eyes were dark, and his smile was strained. Silence ate through the space, their breathing contrasting with each other's.
"You're not safe here," Rowan finally said, arms crossed. "That bastard found a way in without alerting the sentries." He halted, taking in a long breath. "You know what that means."
Elias didn't turn. His eyes scanned the dripping snow.
"That he's smarter than you give him credit for?"
Rowan's jaw clenched; his eyes flew up.
"It means someone inside this palace is helping him."
That pulled Elias's attention. He turned, his fingers tightening on the robe.
"You're saying there is a traitor?"
Now this was bad news. The one behind his poisoning was yet to be found—and now this. Elias's head spun.
"I've worked with Kael all my life. He is not one to be underestimated. His ways are quick and snappy, but with that bitch Kelly by his side, I don't know why I fear so much."
The room fell into an uncomfortable silence. Points didn't click, and loose ends were left untied.
"We cannot afford to trust anyone—not even the guards who escort you." Rowan stepped closer, his eyes dark as night. "Which is why, from now on, you don't leave my side."
Elias blinked.
"Is this a threat, Your Highness?"
"A death prevention plan at most," Rowan snapped. "You will sleep with me, eat here, and if I have to escort you to the bathhouse myself, I will." Elias gave a low laugh, but it didn't reach his eyes. His face carried no emotions.
"So now I'm your prisoner?" He chuckled bitterly. "I am beta before consort. Don't you think I can take care of myself?" He hissed.
Rowan stepped closer and grabbed his hand.
"You're my consort, and no man would be taking you away—not even the ex-lover you can't forget."
His words dripped with venom as hands tightened around Elias's wrist, but Elias did not let the pain show. He was no damsel in distress waiting to be saved.
"Consort," he repeated, his voice almost a whisper. Rowan looked into those charming yet witty eyes.
"A noble is believed to have been killed on our wedding. I don't know what you think, but as crown prince of the Forgotten Court, I know a looming danger when I see one. Another scandal—and worse off, death—is what we cannot afford."
Rowan let go of his hand. The tension in the room was above the roof.
"You will wear my seal. I will announce it at court tomorrow." Elias stepped back as if it burned.
"You don't mean that," he chuckled bitterly.
"I do." Rowan stared firmly. "You're not a damsel in distress, but my consort. And all you have to do is get your act together and do as you are told. Safety comes first," he half yelled.
Elias blinked. Pain sparked within his eyes. He had never felt so humiliated. His body burned with every word. He stared down at the ring extended to him. To him, it was not just a ring. It was a cage, a symbol of captivity—a bondage he was trying to break free from.
"This isn't just about Kael, is it?" he demanded, but Rowan was quiet.
"My past is no secret… Damn it, Rowan, I was not some cheap whore. I was fated to one person. I gave my heart, my life for them. It was a decision beyond my control, and yes, he betrayed me—but no. I won't stoop low to your disrespect in the name of protection. I am not one of them."
He stepped forward, their faces barely inches away, his hot breath wrapped around Rowan like a tempting invitation.
"Like I said… I do not need your pity," he muttered.
"You won't get it," Rowan said simply. "What you will get is power. Position. And protection of the Forgotten Court."
The room fell into another wave of silence. Elias felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff. Below was a past full of pain, and ahead was a future full of thorns covered with petals.
"I will think about it," he said finally.
"Good. Think fast. A weak man has no place by my side," Rowan hissed.
"A weak man?" Elias scoffed, his piercing gaze like daggers. "Excuse me, your highness… You're the one on the wheel," he snarled.
And for the first time, both Blake and Kim felt that they stood on equal ground—and the situation had quickly escalated. Rowan's eyes burned, his fingers clenched, but he stepped back. He said nothing more and walked out of the room.
Elias turned back to the snow, his eyes as cold as the freezing weather. He was like a double-edged sword—one wrong move and be prepared to be stabbed. He no longer knew which was colder—the snow outside or the man who claimed to protect him.
Deep in the heart of Snowdale territory, Alpha Kael stood in the remains of the burned-out watchtower. His eyes stretched into the distance as if he could see it… The future was uncertain, and the threats were growing by the day. He did not need reminders. It was clear—they had run out of time, and now the enemy was closer than ever. But he was not here for evidence or a trace.
He was waiting for confirmation.
A raven landed on a stone, its eyes glinting red. Tied to its leg was a ribbon of black silk. Kael took the message, reading the single line:
The court demands an heir.
Kael's hands clenched, his eyes darkened, and his heart pounded. It was happening too quickly. For the first time in a long while, he felt powerless—and most of all, confused.
He turned to the cloaked figure standing behind him.
"Prepare the Shadow Vow. Since they want an heir… we have to be sure none, at least not from Elias, ever comes."
"Should I tell Luna?" the figure asked.
Kael's eyes flared with something closer to madness. "Why?" he yelled. "She is no one. Just a woman I married to save my pack, and all I want is to protect the one my heart wants."
"I will inform my mistress," the figure said, walking away.
Standing alone, Kael could hear the voices in his head—the disapprovals and the aching warnings—but now was not the time to be weak. It had to be him or no one else.