The journey to Silas's territory was faster than expected—he wanted them to come. Every trail was marked, every step watched. He wasn't hiding. He was luring.
"You shouldn't go," the alpha said for the hundredth time as they stood before the jagged ridge separating the cursed valley from the Shadowlands. "He'll try to twist you."
Aria adjusted the blade strapped to her thigh. "Then I won't break."
Their eyes met—intense, charged, almost desperate.
"I can't lose you," he whispered.
She touched his chest gently, where his mark shimmered faintly beneath his shirt. "Then don't."
She crossed the ridge.
The air changed instantly—colder, heavier, like something ancient stirred beneath the ground. A forest of blackthorn trees stretched before her, and beyond them, a castle of obsidian stone rose from the mountain like a claw.
He was waiting at the gate.
Silas.
He was nothing like the alpha—where her alpha was wild and controlled, Silas was refined and chillingly calm. Dressed in dark crimson robes, with a silver crown coiled in thorn-shaped metal atop his head, he looked like a ruler born of nightmares.
And his eyes—those same piercing silver eyes—locked onto hers with hunger.
"Ah," he said smoothly. "The lost heir comes to kneel."
"I came to retrieve what's mine."
He chuckled, the sound smooth as silk and sharp as a dagger. "So brave. So foolish. Just like your mother."
Aria froze. "You knew her?"
"Oh, I knew her well. She was meant to rule beside me before she betrayed us all for a Shadow Alpha who would rather rot in a cave than build an empire."
He circled her slowly, like a serpent.
"You're not a weapon, Aria. You're a queen. Your alpha hides you because he fears what you'll become."
She turned sharply. "He protects me."
"He limits you."
Silas gestured, and the Bloodstone floated into view, pulsing with power.
"Take it," he whispered. "Unleash what's inside you. Break the curse on him, on me. You don't need him. You only need this."
Aria reached for the stone—then stopped.
A pulse hit her chest. Not from fear.
From the bond.
She saw him—her alpha—pacing the border, his hand clutching the mark on his own skin. He was in pain. Because he felt hers.
She turned to Silas, voice steady.
"I am not yours to claim. And I'm not anyone's weapon."
Power surged from her again—but this time, it didn't lash out. It wrapped around her, silver and gold threads weaving over her skin like armor.
Silas stumbled back, eyes wide.
"You awakened it…"
Aria's eyes glowed. "No. I claimed it."