THE KING THEY WANTED DEAD
The storm arrived the same night Lysandra realized the palace was no longer safe for her.
Rain hammered against the towering black windows of Drakon Palace while thunder rolled across the volcanic mountains like the growl of some ancient beast awakening beneath the earth.
Every corridor felt darker than before, every flickering torch casting twisted shadows that seemed to move when she wasn’t looking directly at them.
The kingdom had changed in only a few days.
Or maybe it had always been rotten beneath the surface, and she had simply been blind enough not to see it.
Lysandra sat alone in Evangeline’s chambers, staring at the pile of stolen documents spread across the wooden table between them.
Her hands trembled slightly as she reread the coded letters for what felt like the hundredth time.
Every sentence carried the same horrifying truth.
Astrid had been betrayed.
Not by enemies across the mountains.
Not by rogue wolves from distant territories.
But by his own council.
“They’re going to kill him,” Lysandra whispered again, though the words no longer sounded real.
“And they’re going to blame me for everything.”
Evangeline looked pale in the candlelight, her green eyes shadowed with fear.
“We need to get these documents to someone loyal before the elders realize you’ve discovered the truth.”
“Who?”
Lysandra asked bitterly.
“The palace is infected with traitors.
Every guard could belong to them.
Every servant could be listening.”
Outside the room, distant footsteps echoed through the corridor.
Both women immediately fell silent.
Lysandra’s wolf stirred uneasily inside her chest.
Something was wrong.
The footsteps stopped outside the door.
Then came three slow knocks.
Evangeline stood carefully.
“Who is it?”
“Captain Varros,” a deep voice answered.
“Open the door.”
Lysandra’s stomach tightened instantly.
She knew that name.
Captain Varros was one of Astrid’s most trusted commanders.
A brutal warrior with silver scars running across his throat and eyes so cold they looked carved from ice.
If he was here, something terrible had happened.
Evangeline opened the door cautiously.
Varros stepped inside, towering and broad-shouldered in dark armor soaked with rainwater.
Behind him stood four armed guards.
His gaze immediately locked onto Lysandra.
“You need to come with me,” he said.
Fear crawled up her spine.
“Why?”
“The king has gone silent.”
The room froze.
Lysandra stared at him.
“What?”
Varros closed the door behind him before speaking again, his voice lower now.
“Three days ago, the king’s forces entered the northern pass near Iron Peak.
Yesterday morning, all communication stopped.”
Evangeline gasped softly.
“The scouts sent after them never returned,” Varros continued.
“Tonight, one wounded soldier made it back alive.”
Lysandra’s heart pounded violently.
“What happened?”
Varros’s jaw tightened.
“Ambush.”
The word hit like a blade.
“The rebels knew exactly where the king would march,” he growled.
“They knew troop numbers, supply routes, defensive formations.
Someone fed them information from inside the palace.”
Lysandra looked down at the documents on the table.
Proof.
Proof that Astrid had been led into a trap like prey.
Varros noticed the papers instantly.
His eyes narrowed.
“What is this?”
Evangeline hesitated.
Lysandra realized they had no choice anymore.
Slowly, she pushed the coded messages toward him.
Varros scanned the first page.
Then the second.
Then the maps.
The color drained from his face.
“By the gods…”
He grabbed another letter, reading faster now, his breathing growing heavier with every line.
Finally, his eyes lifted toward Lysandra.
“Where did you find these?”
“In the records chamber,” she answered quietly.
“The elders forged letters in my name.
They planned to accuse me of treason after Astrid died.”
Varros’s expression darkened into something murderous.
“These bastards…”
A loud horn suddenly echoed through the palace.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Everyone in the room stiffened.
The alarm.
Varros moved instantly toward the window, pulling aside the curtain.
Torches burned across the courtyard below.
Dozens of guards flooded the palace grounds.
“They know,” he said grimly.
Lysandra’s blood turned cold.
“Know what?”
“That someone found the documents.”
Almost immediately, shouting erupted somewhere deeper inside the palace.
Then came the sound of screaming.
Evangeline covered her mouth in horror.
Varros turned sharply toward his guards.
“Seal the corridor.
No one enters this room unless I give the order.”
The guards obeyed immediately.
Lysandra’s pulse thundered in her ears.
“What do we do?”
Varros looked directly at her.
“We get you out before the elders kill you.”
Lightning flashed outside, illuminating the room in blinding white for half a second.
Then came another sound.
A howl.
Deep.
Monstrous.
Not human.
Not entirely wolf.
Lysandra froze.
Her wolf reacted instantly, pressing violently against her ribs with fear and recognition.
Varros swore under his breath.
“They brought the Bloodfangs.”
Evangeline looked confused.
“The what?”
“The elders’ personal hunters,” Varros answered darkly.
“Wolves trained to kill traitors.”
Another howl echoed closer this time.
Followed by the sound of claws scraping stone somewhere below the palace.
Lysandra felt sick.
“They’re hunting me.”
“No,” Varros corrected coldly.
“They’re hunting all of us now.”
Suddenly the door exploded inward.
Wood splintered across the room as one of the guards was thrown violently against the wall, blood spraying from his throat.
A massive creature lunged through the shattered doorway.
Black fur.
Glowing red eyes.
Teeth like knives.
The Bloodfang wolf crashed into another guard, tearing him down before anyone could react.
Evangeline screamed.
Varros drew his sword instantly.
“MOVE!”
The beast charged again.
Varros met it head-on with a roar, steel clashing against claws as the room descended into chaos.
Lysandra stumbled backward, heart hammering violently while the Bloodfang snapped its jaws inches from Varros’s face.
Another creature appeared in the hallway behind it.
Then another.
Three of them.
Maybe more.
The palace guards were dying outside.
Varros sliced his blade across the nearest creature’s shoulder, black blood splattering across the walls.
“GET HER OUT!”
He shouted.
One surviving guard grabbed Lysandra’s arm.
“This way!”
She barely had time to look back before being dragged through a hidden side door concealed behind the bookshelf.
The passage beyond was dark and narrow.
Behind her, the sounds of battle echoed violently through the chamber.
Metal clashing.
Wolves snarling.
People screaming.
Then Evangeline cried out.
Lysandra tried to turn back.
The guard held her tighter.
“You can’t help them!”
“I can’t leave her!”
“You leave now or everyone dies for nothing!”
The hidden door slammed shut behind them.
Darkness swallowed the passage.
Lysandra stumbled through the narrow tunnel while tears blurred her vision.
The stone walls felt suffocatingly tight around her as distant screams echoed faintly behind them.
The guard carried a torch in one hand while leading her deeper underground.
“Where are we going?”
She whispered shakily.
“There’s an old exit beneath the southern cliffs.”
“What about Varros?
Evangeline?”
The guard stayed silent.
Which terrified her more than any answer could have.
Minutes later, the tunnel opened into a massive underground cavern beneath the palace.
Ancient lava rivers glowed dimly beneath stone bridges while steam rose from cracks in the earth.
And waiting beside the exit tunnel stood someone she recognized instantly.
Elder Corvus.
He smiled when he saw her.
A thin, terrible smile.
“You truly are troublesome, child.”
The guard beside Lysandra froze.
Corvus sighed dramatically.
“You disappoint me, Daven.
I expected loyalty.”
The guard’s face turned pale.
Then a blade suddenly erupted from his chest.
Blood splattered across the cavern floor.
Lysandra screamed as the guard collapsed.
Behind him stood another figure cloaked entirely in black.
An assassin.
Corvus stepped closer calmly while the dead guard twitched beside her feet.
“You should have stayed invisible, Lysandra,” the elder said softly.
“You could have lived a very long life.”
Lysandra backed away trembling.
“You tried to kill Astrid.”
Corvus’s expression hardened slightly.
“The king became weak.
Distracted.
Obsessed with a half-blood girl he should never have touched.”
“You betrayed your kingdom!”
“No,” Corvus replied coldly.
“We saved it.”
The assassin moved closer.
Lysandra’s wolf panicked violently inside her chest.
There was nowhere left to run.
Corvus extended his hand.
“Give me the documents.”
She clutched the satchel tighter.
“If I die,” she whispered shakily, “the truth dies with me.”
Corvus smiled again.
“That is precisely the point.”
The assassin lunged.
Lysandra stumbled backward just as the blade sliced through the air inches from her throat.
She fell hard against the cavern floor, pain exploding through her shoulder.
The assassin advanced again.
Fast.
Too fast.
Lysandra scrambled desperately across the stone while panic consumed her.
Then suddenly—
A roar thundered through the cavern.
Not human.
Not wolf.
Something far worse.
Everyone froze.
Even Corvus looked startled.
Another roar erupted from the tunnel behind them, shaking the entire cavern.
Heavy footsteps followed.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Terrifying.
And then he appeared.
Astrid.
Blood covered his armor.
One side of his face was torn open.
His black cloak hung in shredded pieces behind him.
But his golden eyes still burned like fire.
Alive.
The cavern fell into stunned silence.
Lysandra stared at him in disbelief.
Corvus stepped backward.
“Impossible…”
Astrid’s gaze slowly found Lysandra kneeling on the ground.
The moment he saw her fear…
Something inside him snapped.
Lysandra felt it instantly.
The bond between them exploded alive with violent force.
Heat surged through her body.
Astrid’s eyes shifted from gold to blazing molten amber.
The air itself seemed to ignite around him.
“You touched her,” he said quietly.
The assassin hesitated.
That was his final mistake.
Astrid moved so fast he became a blur.
One second he stood across the cavern.
The next, his hand was around the assassin’s throat.
Bones shattered.
The body hit the ground lifelessly.
Corvus turned to flee.
Astrid looked at him slowly.
And smiled.
It was not a human smile.
It was the smile of a monster finally unleashed.
“You betrayed your king,” Astrid growled.
Fire erupted across the cavern walls.
Real fire.
Ancient wolf-fire blazing from the cracks beneath the earth itself.
Corvus screamed as flames surrounded him.
Lysandra stared at Astrid in horror and awe while the king walked through the burning cavern toward her like death itself.
Every instinct inside her screamed danger.
But her wolf…
Her wolf only recognized him.
Astrid stopped in front of her, breathing heavily, blood dripping from his armor onto the stone.
Then he knelt.
His rough hand touched her face gently despite the fury burning inside him.
“You’re hurt.”
Lysandra’s throat tightened.
“You came back.”
Astrid stared at her for a long moment.
Then his forehead rested lightly against hers.
“I would burn this entire kingdom before I let them take you from me.”
