178

178


I sprinted toward the screen, my mind racing to process the unfolding chaos. The arena was enclosed by towering metal scaffolds, each level lined with wooden planks that formed crude walkways for spectators. Within moments, Hadrian and Eamon were no longer alone. The audience flooded in, positioning themselves along the various tiers of the structure. They were Eamon’s followers—rogue wolves and outcast vampires, concealed beneath heavy hoods and robes. The forsaken.

Their voices rose in unison, chanting Eamon’s name while spitting at Hadrian’s feet. Their hatred seeped through the speakers, each venomous syllable piercing my heart. But Hadrian? He remained unshaken. My King stood tall, his imposing gaze locked onto his adversary. Eamon reveled in the crowd’s fury, stoking their rage like a master conductor of discord.

"Where is Thalassa?" Hadrian’s fists clenched, his sharp gaze scanning the audience, seeking me.

Eamon lifted a hand, silencing the uproar before answering with a calculated smile. "My sister is safe. Resting in her chambers." Though his lips curled, his eyes remained void of warmth.

A dry laugh rumbled from Hadrian’s chest. "I don’t believe you. Bring her here."

Eamon scoffed. "And what if she doesn’t wish to see you?"

"She does. I can feel her." Hadrian’s piercing stare hardened, his certainty unshaken.

Eamon circled him, slow and deliberate, his voice dripping with mockery. "You know… she, like me, always longed for a family. What makes you so sure she would choose you over her own blood?"

Hadrian’s smirk was sharp as a blade. "Because I know her. She would never choose a murderer over the one she loves."

Eamon’s grin widened, wicked and taunting. "Oh, but she’s here, watching us right now. The door to her room is unguarded, yet she hasn’t come. She sees everything, and still, she stays away. Perhaps she isn’t as desperate to fall into your arms as you think… or maybe, just maybe, she wants me to win."

Hadrian’s fists clenched tighter, his knuckles turning white. "You expect me to believe that?"

"You don’t have to." Eamon’s voice was a sinister whisper. "But ask yourself this—could she truly live with the weight of knowing you killed the only family she has left?"

Hadrian’s expression faltered, doubt flickering in his eyes. My stomach twisted into a knot. No. He couldn’t hesitate. Not now.

Terror clawed at my chest. "No…" The word barely left my lips before panic surged through me. "He can’t waver… Eamon is too strong… Hadrian can’t hesitate!" My desperate cries filled the room, but they fell on deaf ears.

I had to get out. Hadrian would never fight with all his strength if he thought I would hate him for killing Eamon. But I didn’t care about blood ties—I refused to claim that monster as my family. Eamon deserved to pay, to suffer for the lives he had stolen.

I lunged at the door, yanking the handle with all my might. It didn’t budge. Frustration boiled inside me as I clawed at my hair, pacing frantically. My gaze swept across the small chamber, searching for anything—anything—that could help me break free.

"Damn it!" I hissed through clenched teeth, my hands shaking as I scanned the floor, the furniture, the walls. Nothing.

Then, my attention snapped back to the screen. The fight had begun.

Eamon moved like a predator, circling Hadrian with a cruel smirk. He struck again and again, each blow meant to entertain his bloodthirsty audience. Hadrian dodged, his movements calculated—but he wasn’t fighting back. This wasn’t the warrior I knew. He had always met his enemies with merciless precision, but now… now, he avoided the fight.

Eamon’s fists connected. Hadrian staggered, and the crowd erupted in delight. Eamon’s laughter rang out, sharp and taunting.

"No! You can’t do this! Fight, Hadrian! Fight with everything you have!" I screamed at the screen, my nails digging into my palms.

Eamon landed another brutal hit, sending Hadrian crashing to the ground. My King sprang to his feet with a feral growl.

"Now, this is fun!" Eamon jeered before his body began to shift.

A cold shiver crawled down my spine as his transformation unfolded. His muscles expanded, bones twisting, skin stretching into dark grey fur. His irises blackened, gleaming with menacing hunger. His ears sharpened into pointed wolf-like peaks, and a thick mane framed his monstrous face. Though his features still bore a human resemblance, the beast within had taken control.

His limbs elongated, turning into powerful, animalistic appendages. He towered over Hadrian, a grotesque fusion of man and monster.

Hadrian bared his fangs, claws extending as he braced for battle. But his eyes… they lacked fire. He was holding back, his torment plain as day. He feared that if he killed Eamon, I would never forgive him.

Tears blurred my vision as I reached toward his image on the screen. "It’s not true," I whispered brokenly. "You’re the only one I can’t live without… If you die, I die with you."

Desperation surged through me, igniting something fierce in my veins. My strength had grown—I had to believe that. I had to break free.

I shoved the furniture aside, clearing a path. My heart pounded as I backed up, inhaling deeply before sprinting full force toward the steel door. My shoulder slammed into the metal, sending a shock of pain down my arm, but the door barely quivered.

Gritting my teeth, I threw myself at it again. Then again. Agony flared through me, but I didn’t stop. My skin split, blood soaking through my clothes, but I didn’t care.

With one final, desperate charge, the hinges shrieked in protest. A breathless, half-hysterical laugh bubbled from my lips. "Come on," I urged myself.

Summoning every last ounce of strength, I hurled my entire body into the steel.

With a deafening crash, the door gave way, slamming to the ground in a thunderous, victorious roar.

A sharp breath of relief escaped my lips as I tore out of the cell. Eamon had told the truth about one thing—I wasn’t being guarded. And it seemed none of his people were lingering in the corridors either. Their attention was consumed by the fight, their roars of bloodlust echoing through the halls. I couldn’t sense a single presence nearby.

Guided by the frenzied shouts and the unmistakable sounds of combat, I pressed forward. The arena had to be close.

A sliver of light flickered ahead, drawing my focus. Without hesitation, I surged toward it with inhuman speed. My heart pounded as I reached the source—a window. I peered down and realized I was five floors above the arena. From this vantage point, I saw the towering metal structures where the audience gathered, their frenzied movements blurring together. But no matter how loudly I screamed, my voice would never rise above the deafening uproar. I needed to get down.

Turning sharply, I spotted a staircase. Without thinking, I leapt over the railings, landing swiftly on each level, descending in rapid succession. The moment my feet hit the ground floor, I bolted down the corridor, eyes locking onto the exit leading straight to the arena.

Dread curled around my spine. I had no idea what had happened in the time I had been locked away. Was Hadrian still standing? Was he bleeding? Dying?

I shoved every ounce of strength into my legs, propelling myself forward—until someone stepped from the shadows, blocking my path.

I didn’t need to see her face. I could sense her from a mile away.

"Get out of my way, Selene," I hissed.

The former vampire queen let out a cruel laugh, stalking toward me with slow, deliberate steps. It was the first time I had seen her dressed for battle. Gone was the decadent elegance that once draped her like a second skin. Clad in combat pants and a fitted top, her hair pulled back into a sleek ponytail, she was a stark contrast to the regal figure I once knew.

But the way she carried herself hadn’t changed. Her chin lifted high, a smirk curling her lips, she walked as if she still held power over me.

That illusion shattered the moment I looked at her. The Thalassa I had been before—hesitant, uncertain—might have shrunk beneath her presence. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. I saw her for what she truly was.

Weak.

I had already measured her strength against mine, and I knew exactly how this fight would end.

"Step aside, and I’ll let you live," I warned, my voice calm, absolute.

Selene’s expression twisted with rage. "How dare you!" she spat. "You should kneel before me, you filthy commoner!"

A sharp snort left me. "I don’t think you’ve realized something, Selene. You’re not a queen anymore. You’ve been stripped of every title, every ounce of power."

Her nostrils flared, but she took another step closer, tilting her chin higher. "That doesn’t change the fact that I am a noble vampire," she sneered. "Whereas you… you will always be beneath me."

I let my gaze sweep over her, unimpressed. "Do you even believe the bullshit coming out of your mouth?"

"Shut up, you worthless whore!" she shrieked, voice shrill with fury. "I’ll rip you apart for taking what’s mine!"

A slow smile tugged at my lips. "Hadrian was never yours." I held her gaze, letting the truth cut through her delusion like a blade. "And if you want to kill me—go ahead and try."

The invitation snapped the last thread of her restraint. A snarl ripped from her throat as she lunged, claws bared.

I didn’t move. I simply waited.

She was slow. Too slow.

Each time her claws sliced through the air, I shifted, easily dodging. The more she missed, the wilder her swings became. She roared in frustration, her movements growing sloppier with every failed attempt.

I watched as her rage devoured her. Watched as she abandoned all control, reduced to a feral, mindless beast.

But she was wasting my time.

I flipped back, creating space between us. One last chance. "I won’t toy with you any longer," I warned, voice resonating through the corridor. "Surrender, or you’ll die."

Selene let out a mad laugh. "You’re the one who’s going to die, you filthy slut!"

She lunged again, but I had already read the movement before her muscles even tensed.

I had been patient enough.

Dodging effortlessly, I spun through the air, slicing my claws across her chest as I landed gracefully on my feet.

Selene stumbled back, eyes wide. She clutched at the deep gashes marring her skin, blood spilling between her fingers. Horror flickered in her gaze as she finally understood—there was no winning this fight.

But pride was a deadly thing.

Even as her wounds bled freely, even as she weakened, she refused to stop.

"Selene, give up!" I snapped, growing impatient. "I don’t have time for this!"

But she wasn’t listening.

Madness had consumed her.

With a last, desperate scream, she lunged, her claws aimed straight for my heart.

I exhaled sharply.

And then, in a single fluid movement, I slashed my claws across her neck.

The force sent her staggering. She dropped to her knees, blinking rapidly. Her lips parted in a silent, stunned gasp. And then—her head tumbled from her shoulders, hitting the ground with a wet thud.

Blood burst from the wound, painting the corridor in crimson.

I hadn’t wanted to kill her. But that didn’t mean she didn’t deserve it. She had underestimated me. And she had paid the price for it.

But I was already thinking of something else. Someone else.

Hadrian.

Without wasting another second, I tore down the hall, reached the door to the arena, and slammed it open.

"Hadrian!" I screamed—

Then froze