Chapter 156 Chapter 156

Chapter 156 Chapter 156
Rose’s pov

I couldn’t believe my eyes. It felt unreal—like my mind had slipped into a nightmare I couldn’t wake from. One moment my aunty was alive, whispering that it was going to be alright… and the next, her head was rolling across the floor. I had never screamed so loud in my life, yet somehow everything still felt silent, like the world had gone numb with me.

My mates’ father—he was the one who delivered the killing blow to my precious aunty. And he’d said so casually to my father that my head would be next.

I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t even form a single thought. It all felt distant, muffled, dreamlike—until a sudden force knocked him backwards. He flew across the ground.

Kavian.
He had struck his father.

“Run!” he yelled. It took seconds—long, useless seconds—for the word to process. My legs didn’t recognize the command at first. Nothing did. But suddenly instinct took over, and I ran. I ran as fast as my body would let me, tears blurring everything, breath tearing in and out of my chest.

My father and his army surged forward, swords raised, charging toward Alpha King Armon and his warriors. A heartbeat later I was swallowed by a sea of bodies and clashing metal. I stopped running because there was nowhere left to run—only chaos, only noise, only terror pressing in from every direction.

My hands were shaking violently. I stared down at them, hardly recognizing they were mine. I hadn’t even realized how badly I was trembling. Why wouldn’t I be? My aunty had just been murdered right in front of me. My vision wavered as tears finally spilled freely, the full weight of everything crashing down at once. A deep, crushing ache grew in my chest, a pain so heavy and cold I knew it would never leave me.

I lifted my eyes toward the battlefield. At first it was all a blur—shapes, shadows, screams blending into one. I couldn’t tell who was who. All I knew was that bodies were falling. Metal was clashing. Men were dying.

When my vision finally sharpened, dread gripped me. It was our people falling. Again and again and again.

My heart pounded so hard it hurt when I couldn’t find Kavian or my father. Panic surged—until finally I spotted them. Fighting. Alive. Tristan too. Relief washed through me, weak but real.

But fear followed instantly, deeper than before, because I could see the truth now. We were losing. Badly. And I was too shaken, too hollow, too broken to even move.

Then I saw them—my other mates. Kavian’s brothers. Cutting through my people like it was nothing… like it was sport. Like it was fun.

My heart twisted painfully.
They looked just like their father.

The same coldness. The same lack of remorse. The same merciless ease as they slaughtered those around them.

He had killed my aunty without a flicker of sympathy.
And now his sons were killing my people with that same terrifying emptiness.

I thought it couldn’t possibly get worse—until I saw Kavian going after his brothers.

First was Arman, swinging at him with such ferocity it looked like he wanted to take his head clean off. Would he really kill his own brother? From the way he attacked, it looked terrifyingly possible. Kavian was barely striking back, mostly defending, and I felt anxiety coil so tightly inside me it hurt. At any moment I expected Arman’s blade to slice through his neck.

But somehow—miraculously—Kavian kept evading him. They circled each other, tense and deadly, exchanging words I couldn’t hear… and then Kavian suddenly made a run for it. Relief rushed through me—he was escaping, finally thinking straight.

Except he wasn’t.
My relief turned to shock as he sprinted toward his other brother, Shirin, and locked swords with him. Arman immediately joined in, and suddenly it was two against one. Kavian moved fast, impossibly fast, but not fast enough to avoid everything. Arman’s blade nearly took his head—missing by a breath—and instead sliced across his face.

My heart almost stopped.
That was too close—far, far too close.

And anger flared through my fear. What was he thinking? Why was he doing this? Engaging two of his brothers was reckless, suicidal—he should’ve been running away from them, not into their blades.

Then he did run, and for a moment I thought he finally understood—only for my breath to choke in my throat when he rushed straight at Roshan.

Did he have a death wish?

All three brothers went after him—Shirin and Arman chasing him with lethal intent. The battle raged around them, but now I noticed something: our men were finally able to retreat. They had space. They had time.

And that was when everything clicked.
Kavian wasn’t being reckless.
He wasn’t being foolish.
He was drawing his brothers to himself—pulling danger away from our people.

I didn’t know if I should be proud… or furious. His actions were heroic, yes, but also terrifyingly suicidal. He stood no chance against the three of them. They would kill him.

For a brief moment his brothers stopped attacking and seemed to be speaking with him. But then—without warning—they surged at him all at once, their swords slashing violently. Kavian blocked a few, but soon devastating cuts began landing across his body.

Each strike felt like it landed on me, not him.

“No!”
The scream tore from my throat as I pushed through the chaos, shoving past bodies, desperate to reach him before his brothers finished him.

But before I could get far, strong arms wrapped around me from behind—iron-tight, unmovable. Tristan.

“Let go of me! I have to help him!”

“No,” he said firmly. “You can’t help him. You’ll only get yourself killed.”

“I said let go!” I yelled, struggling, but his hold didn’t loosen.

“I will not. I won’t let you throw your life away,” he said.

“Let go—they’re killing him. Please!” My voice broke as I watched another blow land on Kavian, pain flaring in my chest like it was my own flesh being cut.

“I’m sorry,” Tristan said softly. “I can’t. Kavian told me himself—get you away from here, keep you safe. This is what he wanted.”

“Don’t let his sacrifice be in vain.” He added.

Tears flowed freely from my eyes as this was the toughest decision of my life. Kavian was the mate I loved the most, and watching him being killed by my other mates—his own brothers—made it even more painful. The agony twisted inside me, sharp and breath-stealing.

Even if I was not able to help him, it would be better if I died with him… but Tristan wouldn’t let me go to him. His arm held me back, firm and shaking, and then I remembered Kavian’s words—the ones he had told me once before, quiet yet etched into my soul:

Do not kill yourself for any of us. Live.

I closed my eyes, letting the pain swallow me. I am sorry. I love you, I muttered, my voice barely more than a broken whisper.

“Come on, Rose, we have to go now,” Tristan said urgently. I turned to him and nodded, though my body felt numb. He grabbed my hand, grounding me, and helped me up onto his horse before climbing up behind me. The saddle rocked beneath us, shaking with his haste.

And just then, as the horse shifted, I saw Alpha King Armon. He had spotted me from where he stood watching over the battle—unbothered, emotionless, as if it was some kind of live drama meant for his entertainment.

He pointed straight at me. “Get her,” he ordered, his voice carrying even through the chaos. Several of his men broke off immediately, cutting through warriors and slicing their way toward us.

Tristan kicked the horse into motion, and we burst forward in a violent sprint.

I turned around, my heart hammering, and saw the men still trying to follow—killing and fighting their way through anyone who slowed them. But my eyes drifted beyond them… to where Kavian’s brothers were still brutalizing Kavian.

They kicked him hard enough that his body jolted on the ground, struck him with the hilts of their swords, and dragged him up only to slam him back down again. One twisted his arm behind his back until I heard a crack, another drove a knee into his ribs, and Kavian—my Kavian—choked on his own blood as he tried to rise.

And my whole world came crashing down when the three of them slashed him with their swords—three merciless arcs—and he fell to the ground, motionless.