Chapter 46

Chapter 46
Kael

My wolf was barely contained.

A low, constant snarl vibrated through my chest, a warning I couldn't silence no matter how tightly I gripped the reigns.

He'd gone feral the moment Dax mind-linked me with the news.

An attempt had been made on her life.

On Aria.

We had no news yet on the exact details on who it was, how it was stopped. And My wolf and I both wanted retribution, wanted blood.

I hadn’t seen her yet. I didn’t even know for certain if she was safe beyond Dax’s rushed assurance.

But my wolf knew.

He paced under my skin, claws raking the inside of my ribs, desperate to get to her. He wanted to see his mate, feel her in our arms and know she was ok. I didn't know how to tell him we would likely never be lucky enough to get to hold her.

I had barely kept it together long enough to prepare for the ball. I stood now in the grand hall of my ancestors, a heavy black and silver cloak thrown over my shoulders, my crown weighing heavier tonight than it ever had.

Dax was at my side, his posture rigid, his eyes constantly sweeping the crowd. My entire guard was on high alert, for any further attempts, threats and for her.

Everywhere I turned, nobles and their simpering daughters circled like vultures.

House banners floated from the rafters. Gold and silk and crimson flashed from every corner.

Everywhere I walked, I heard whispers.

No Luna yet. A broken bond. He's unstable. A crown ripe for the taking.

It took everything I had not to rip the words from their throats.

As if summoned by my rising fury, a lord stepped into my path, his daughter on his arm.

My wolf growled a low warning, he did not like this lord.

Lord Farlan of House Veilthorn.

A minor house with too much ambition and not enough sense.

"My King," Farlan said with an oily bow. "Allow me to present my daughter, Lady Maeryn. Raised in the old traditions. Skilled in courtly matters and Luna arts."

Maeryn curtsied deeply, a smile plastered on her pretty, vacant face.

I barely heard a word the lord said. He was rambling on about his daughter I'm sure.

My wolf was pacing again, snapping at the inside of my chest.

"I appreciate your loyalty," I said through gritted teeth, already stepping past them.

Dax caught my eye, his expression warning. Be careful, he seemed to say without words.

I nodded slightly. Unsure if I even cared anymore.

And then—

The air shifted.

Not a breeze. Not a sound.

An energy.

A thrum beneath the skin of the world itself.

I felt her before I saw her.

Like a forgotten star flaring back to life in a sky I thought I'd conquered.

Every hair on my body stood on end.

My eyes snapped to the grand staircase at the far end of the hall.

A figure stood there, cloaked and hooded, surrounded by others who carried an aura of quiet strength.

The crowd turned toward them, murmuring. Curious. Cautious.

The figure moved forward to the very top of the stairs—directly beneath the Nightshade crest, tattered and half-burned, where it still hung on the stone wall like a wound.

I hadn't even realized the damn thing had been left up.

The figure turned her back to the crowd, facing the banner.

Facing history.

Facing my family.

And then—

Magic.

Silver fire burst from her hands, not in destruction but mending. Healing the Nightshade wound left on our world by my father.

Moonfire wove through the battered banner, stitching it back together with threads of light and memory.

The Nightshade crest pulsed into full, radiant life—restored as if it had never been broken.

The room gasped.

And when she turned—
When the cloak lifted into pure silver flame—

I knew.

I wasn't the King of anything.

Not anymore.

Her gown was spun from black and silver spider silk, flowing like liquid shadow around her. It hugged every curve and muscle.

The mark of her bloodline, the Nightshade crest, burned proudly on her exposed shoulder.

And atop her head, nestled in a crown of living vines tipped with crystals, moonfire flickered like a second heartbeat.

Her onyx hair was loosely woven to the side to allow her mark the attention it deserved. Her storm coloured eyes held so much life in them now, so different from when I saw her last. Her skin held a glow that came from deep within. Her freckles were more pronounced showing the time she had spent in the forest. She was absolute perfection.

The veil over her people fell too.

Every member of her contingent wore the Nightshade crest, gleaming defiantly under the chandeliered sky.

The entire hall stood frozen.

The music faltered.

The whispers died.

Only the pounding of my heart remained. The ache in the bond intensified.

Aria.

Alive. Whole, beautiful and so strong.

Claiming the space like she had never been cast aside. Like she had always been meant to rule. Because she was.

The girl I rejected.

The Queen I could never deserve.

She didn’t speak.

She didn’t need to.

Her very presence was a declaration.

The Nightshade heir had returned.

And no crown forged from betrayal could eclipse her light.

I staggered a step forward before I caught myself.

Dax caught my arm, grounding me. Keeping me from doing something I would likely regret later.

"She’s here, It's her." I whispered.

A prayer.

A curse.

A promise.

It was like the very room, the earth itself was breathing her name.

Aria Nightshade.

They whispered, Who is she? I thought they were all dead? What kingdom does she rule?

My wolf slammed against my ribs, desperate to go to her, to kneel, to beg. He was desperate for her forgiveness that I didn't deserve.

But all I could do was stand there, frozen in the wreckage of my own making...

And watch the Queen take in her court.