Chapter 145: Shina and Dina

Leo Ashton’s Palace

The candles in the war room burned low.

Scrolls were sprawled across the table—spells, failed remedies, desperate prayers etched in trembling hands. The silence in the room was brittle, ready to break.

“Every healer has tried,” Zane muttered, his voice thick with frustration. “Every priest. Every potion. And still your sister’s curse burns through him like wildfire.”

“He’s not just cursed,” Shina said quietly. “He’s consumed.”

Zane turned to her. The flickering flame carved harsh lines on his face, shadows pooling under his eyes. He hadn’t slept properly in weeks. He couldn’t afford to—not when the King of the realm snarled like a beast behind sealed doors, eyes blackened with a hunger that wasn't his.

“He doesn’t recognize me anymore,” Zane whispered, voice fraying. “Not even his Beta. The man I would’ve died for is gone, Shina. You’re our last hope at this point.”

Before she could speak, a blast of wind slammed the war room doors wide open.

“Beta Zane! Priestess Shina!” A guard stumbled in, gasping. “She’s here! At the western gate!”

Zane’s head snapped up. “Who?”

But Shina already knew.

The wind brought the truth like a dagger against her ear.

Dina.

Her blood went cold. “She shouldn’t be able to come this close.”

“She hasn’t passed the gate,” the guard said. “She’s just… standing there.”

Zane growled, his claws extending. “I’ll call reinforcements—”

“No.” Shina’s voice was calm, but the undertow beneath it was storming. “This isn’t a fight that claws and fangs can win.”

She turned to him.

“Zane. As soon as I step through the gates, close them behind me. Not sealed shut. Just closed. Do not open them. Not even if I beg.”

He frowned. “Why wouldn’t I open the gate if you—”

“Why would I need you to open it when I could just push it open myself?”

He froze.

Shina’s gaze softened with unspoken fear. “If Dina overpowers me… if she sets one toe across that threshold… she will become the palace’s new resident witch. The light cannot coexist with her shadow.”

Zane’s throat bobbed. “You think she’s here to challenge your claim?”

“She’s here to watch the king’s world burn,” Shina whispered. “And probably to see how far her curse has spread.”

Zane clenched his jaw and nodded once. “Then go. I’ll keep the gate shut, even if the heavens split.”

The western courtyard was unnaturally still.

The torches lining the stone wall flickered, but no wind blew. It was the stillness before a storm. The kind that made animals cower and children cry.

And then Shina saw her.

Beyond the threshold, just outside the boundary, stood Dina.

She hadn’t aged a day.

Cloaked in night, her robes shimmered like spilled ink. Her hair flowed like black water down her back, and her hands—those cruel, beautiful hands—rested calmly at her sides.

Shina didn’t break stride until she reached the invisible barrier where light met shadow. Where one sister ended and the other began.

Hello, little sister,” Dina purred.

“Dina.”

The name left her lips like a curse.

Dina smiled. “Shina. Still dressing like a grave blossom, I see. Sweet. Innocent. Pathetic.”

Shina raised her chin. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“And yet,” Dina whispered, taking a step forward. The boundary flared silver. Her cloak hissed where it brushed against it. “Here I am.”

“You have no right.”

“I have more right to be here than you,” Dina said smoothly. “My curse lives in your King’s bones. I’ve been in your halls every night he wakes howling at nothing.”

“You cursed him when he was a child—”

“I cursed a legacy,” Dina snapped, stepping forward, but the invisible wall flared silver. She hissed and stepped back. “A legacy built on lies. His father tore me apart. Chose a mate over a promise. He deserved it.”

“And Leo?” Shina’s voice shook. “What did he deserve?”

Dina's eyes gleamed. “To inherit his father's sins.”

“You cursed a child the day his father chose his fated mate over you. Can’t you see how pathetic you are?”

“Over me!” Dina shrieked, voice cracking like thunder. “After everything I did for him—after every secret I buried and every spell I cast—he tossed me aside for a girl with a mark on her neck. And what did he get in return?”

“A son,” Shina said quietly. “A kingdom.”

Dina’s eyes turned cold. “A curse.”

Shina didn’t move.

“So you cursed a child because his father rejected you,” Shina repeated, taunting Dina further.

“I cursed his bloodline!” Dina snapped. “Not just a child, but a whole damn bloodline. And now look at him. Screaming in madness. Calling for shadows. Devouring everything he swore to protect.”

Shina’s voice trembled. “I will break your curse, Dina.”

“Dear clueless sister,” Dina drawled with a cruel smile. “Haven’t you been trying? Yet, you keep failing. For all your white magic and sunlit prayers, you can’t fix what I’ve broken.”

Shina held her ground, her heartbeat thrumming like war drums in her ears, but she didn't flinch. Dina was right about one thing—the curse had taken root. And it was spreading like rot through the palace walls. But Shina wasn’t going to beg.

“You’re right,” she said softly. “I haven’t fixed it. Not yet. But I will.”

Dina raised an eyebrow, amused. “How inspiring. So stubborn. Like our mother.”

Shina’s fingers curled at her sides.

“You remember her, don’t you?” Dina cooed, eyes gleaming. “How she wept when she realized what you were? So full of light, so helpless, so blind. She hoped you’d be the one to balance me. How poetic. She thought love could save me.”

“And you killed her hope,” Shina whispered, voice barely audible.

Dina’s grin sharpened. “No, darling. You did. The day you stood at her deathbed and chose to spare the king’s son. That was your great rebellion, wasn’t it? Mercy over vengeance. You let the man who broke me live.”

“I followed her teachings.”

“You buried her power,” Dina snarled. “But I carry it in full. Her fury. Her storm. Her spine.”

“You carry poison,” Shina said, eyes steady. “You let heartbreak rot you from within. That’s not power, Dina. That’s grief dressed in armor.”

There was silence for a moment. And then Dina laughed—a slow, dangerous sound, like silk slipping over a blade.

“Oh, Shina,” she purred, taking one long step forward until the barrier singed the tips of her boots. “You still think this is just about heartbreak?”

Shina’s pulse quickened.

“You poor, golden fool.” Dina tilted her head, her voice almost pitying. “You think I cursed Leo because his father didn’t choose me?”

Her eyes narrowed. “I cursed him because he lied.”

Shina blinked. “What?”

Dina's smile widened, teeth flashing like ivory fangs. “He promised me the throne. Promised our bloodline would rule the light and the dark. He wanted power, and I gave it to him. I opened the gates. I unleashed the shadows he begged for. And when he got everything he wanted…” Her lips curled. “He called me a monster and banished me to the edge of the realm.”

Shina’s breath caught.

“He used me,” Dina said coldly. “Used my magic. My body. My legacy. And when he found his mate, he spat me out like a spoiled fruit.”

“You were never meant to rule beside him. Whatever he did was for the sake of the kingdom,” Shina said, but her voice lacked certainty.

Dina saw the hesitation, and she pounced.

“Still unsure, little sister?” she said sweetly. “Maybe you’re wondering what else the noble King forgot to tell you. Like how he bound your magic to his bloodline without telling you. Or how your ‘light’ weakens every time Leo feeds on shadow.”

Shina stiffened.

“Ah,” Dina whispered. “So you didn’t know.”

“You’re lying.”

“Am I?” she crooned. “Why do you think you’re failing, Shina? Why do your spells flicker? Why do your dreams smell like ash? You’re tethered to the thing you’re trying to heal.”

The torchlight behind Shina shivered.

She wanted to deny it. But the shadows in the palace had been stronger. Her light had been flickering. And she had felt drained every time Leo lost another part of himself to the void.

Dina leaned in just slightly, her voice like a lullaby dipped in venom.

“You are failing, little sister. And you know what the best part is?”

She grinned, eyes glittering.

“You were always the better one. The brighter one. The chosen one. And yet…”

She let the silence breathe like a blade between them.

“I’m the one winning.”

Shina’s eyes narrowed. “You think this is a victory?”

“I think,” Dina said calmly, “you’re about to lose a kingdom. And when the King finally forgets your name and devours you like the rest, maybe then… you’ll understand why I don’t pity you.”

Shina’s voice dropped like steel.

“Then come, sister. Take your victory. Step through.”