Chapter 88 Chapter Eighty-Eight
Draevyn rose.
Not hurried.
Not shaken.
He straightened as though the earth itself had merely inconvenienced him.
Across the torn expanse of ground, Kaelani was already advancing.
There was no stumble in her step.
No impulsiveness.
Only a measured approach that made something old and instinctive tighten low in the bellies of those watching.
Her eyes burned violet.
Not bright.
Deep.
Like light trapped beneath dark water.
Draevyn watched her with open amusement as he began to pace—as though this were now a battlefield that belonged to him, and he was simply deciding where to stand.
“Well,” he drawled, head tilting slightly, studying her as one might study an unexpected curiosity, “you cause a little quake and suddenly think you’re worthy of challenging me?”
A faint smile touched his lips.
“How very ambitious.”
They circled.
Slow.
Deliberate.
Each waiting for the other to make a mistake.
Draevyn’s attention drifted.
To Julian.
The wolf strained against the thorned vine, muscles trembling with the effort of tearing himself free. Blood soaked the black coils wrapped around him—fresh wounds opening each time he twisted, each time he lunged for a man who refused to come within reach.
More violent.
More desperate.
Teeth bared.
Eyes locked.
Still trying to kill him.
A subtle curve lifted at Draevyn’s mouth.
“Loyal to the end,” he murmured.
“Let him go.”
Kaelani’s voice cut across the distance.
Not a plea.
A warning.
“This is between you and me.”
Draevyn exhaled a quiet, humorless breath.
“And I’m meant to believe,” he said, finally glancing at her, “that your mongrel would honor that?”
Kaelani’s gaze flicked to Julian.
Just for a second.
Something inside her shifted.
Her wolf surged hard beneath her ribs—not wild, not uncontrolled—focused. Violent. Certain.
“For every wound you carve into him…”
She stepped closer.
“I’ll return it until there’s nothing left of you worth killing.”
A faint, knowing smile ghosted across Draevyn’s lips.
His eyes flared gold—and the sky answered.
Clouds dragged across the night like something pulled them by the throat—thick, dark, swallowing the stars in seconds. The air dropped, heavy and charged, pressing against skin, against lungs.
“Let’s see you do your worst,” he taunted.
His gaze sharpened.
“…half-breed.”
The word landed like something spat out.
Thunder cracked.
Not distant.
Overhead.
Hail hammered down in a sudden, violent barrage—hard, fast, relentless.
Draevyn lifted his hand—
—and the storm obeyed.
The falling ice twisted mid-descent, angles sharpening, edges forming as if the sky itself had decided to cut. What should have scattered now drove forward in a single direction.
At her.
Kaelani dropped low—
Too fast for thought.
The first wave screamed past her, close enough to slice the air at her back.
She didn’t stay down.
She called to the wind—and it answered.
It surged outward in a tight, controlled burst, catching the hail mid-flight and turning it back, driving it toward him in a sudden, violent return.
Draevyn didn’t dodge.
He redirected.
His hand shifted—barely—and the current changed with it.
Not toward her—
Toward the Unseelie.
The watching court had no time to react.
The air screamed as the redirected hail tore toward them—faster now, denser, sharpened to lethal points.
Kaelani saw it—and moved on instinct.
The wind bent to her will, catching the incoming barrage just before impact and forcing it off course. Ice shattered against the ground, against pillars, against anything that wasn’t flesh.
The court scattered.
Scrambling for cover.
And in that moment—
Draevyn struck.
Another wave came.
No warning this time.
No buildup.
Just a sudden, concentrated surge—tighter, faster, aimed.
Kaelani turned back, dodging one.
Then another—
A third—
Too close.
A shard sliced across her arm, opening skin clean.
Hot.
Sharp.
Immediate.
Another drove in.
Deep.
Just beneath her ribs.
The force snapped her sideways, breath torn from her lungs in a single, brutal exhale.
Pain detonated.
White.
Blinding.
A scream tore free before she could stop it.
Julian snarled—low and vicious—as he tore against the bindings.
The thorns did not give.
They drove deeper.
Fur split. Flesh followed.
He didn’t stop.
His wolf surged beneath the pain—relentless, singular in purpose.
Protect.
Shield.
Kill.
Again.
Again.
Draevyn’s laugh carried easily across the courtyard—amused, indulgent.
“You really should have finished your training,” he said, glancing at Kaelani as though this were all a mild disappointment. “All that power… and no idea what to do with it.”
His gaze flicked briefly to Julian—still fighting, still tearing himself apart for her.
Then back to her.
“Let me take it from you,” he continued, almost conversational. “And I might even be generous.”
A shadow of a smile flickered across his lips—more condescension than amusement.
“You and your little mate can die together.”
Silence bowed to the moment.
“Clean. Quiet.”
“No more… bloodshed.”
Kaelani didn’t answer.
Her hand moved to her side.
The shard was still lodged deep beneath her ribs, slick with blood.
She gripped it.
Pulled.
Fast.
A restrained sound slipped through her teeth—pain contained, not given voice.
The ice came free.
Blood followed.
For a moment, it ran unchecked.
Then she lifted her hand.
Hovered it over the wound.
Violet answered.
Not gentle.
Not soft.
It surged—a concentrated flare of power that pressed inward, forcing flesh to knit, sealing the severed edges closed.
The glow faded.
She lifted her gaze.
Met his.
“You want my power?” she said.
No rise in her voice.
No strain.
Just certainty.
“Come and take it from me.”