Chapter 44

Chapter 44


Rose’s POV

“Your siblings and Selene’s mate are truly fools, Rose. Do they really think they can defeat me?” Logan’s laugh was low, guttural—twisted into something inhuman. It rolled through the massive chamber like a wave of venom, coating every inch of the air with its poison.

His voice had always carried that dangerous edge, but now it was layered with something worse—certainty. The certainty of a predator who believed the kill was already his.

I felt the weakness deep in my bones, a hollowness that no amount of willpower could fill. My limbs were heavy, leaden, as if my own body had betrayed me. Without my wolf, I was nothing but flesh and bone—a fragile shell waiting to be broken. Keira had made certain of it. That witch had drained me of the only part of myself that made me a threat, and she’d done it with glee.

But weakness wasn’t surrender.

Even as my muscles trembled from exhaustion, I forced my chin up, my gaze sharp, my voice dripping with defiance.
“Who’s the fool here, Logan? Sounds to me like you’re talking about yourself.”

We weren’t in the dank dungeon where my days had been marked by chains, darkness, and the stench of old blood. No, he’d brought me somewhere different—somewhere meant to intimidate. My wrists and ankles were bound with silver cuffs, biting into my skin, and I was positioned in the center of an enormous room.

At the far end sat Logan, lounging like a self-proclaimed monarch on a throne carved from black stone. Every edge of it was sharp, jagged, as if it had been forged from hatred itself. The walls were lined with torches, their flames throwing long shadows that danced across his face, making his grin look even more monstrous.

And on his lap—Keira.

She draped herself over him like some cheap ornament, kissing along his jaw, down his neck, pressing herself against him as if she were trying to fuse their bodies together.

Finally, her mask had slipped completely.

A cheap flirt. A venomous, spiteful woman. I narrowed my eyes at her, feeling the heat of my hatred burning from the inside out. My thoughts sharpened into a vow: if I ever walked free from this place, Keira would be the first to fall beneath my claws.

“Tsk, tsk.” Logan clicked his tongue mockingly. “Packs from all over the territories, versus my armies. Who do you think will win, babe?” His lips grazed her collarbone, his voice casual, almost bored, as if the lives of hundreds were nothing but pawns on his chessboard.

I clenched my jaw so tightly it ached. Disgust didn’t even begin to cover what I felt. They weren’t just enemies—they were filth, staining every breath of air they touched.

Keira’s voice came out syrup-sweet. “Of course, our armies, baby.”

I wanted to spit.

Mother had been right from the start. Logan had never loved her. He had only ever wanted one thing—power. That was the real reason he seduced her all those years ago, the reason he played the role of charming savior until she believed in him. Her one mistake was trusting a man whose soul was already rotten.

Still, she had never regretted having us—my siblings and me. We were her light, even if we came from darkness. And now, that same darkness sat before me, grinning with blackened teeth.

“And who will reign over the werewolves and the humans?” Logan asked, his grin stretching wider, his eyes hungry.

Go ahead. Enjoy your delusions while they last. Because I knew—deep in the marrow of my bones—that this would be the last time you ever dared to gloat.

“We will, baby,” Keira answered, practically purring.

King and Queen? Bravo. As if you could ever rule this world while even one Aeon still breathes. Etch that truth into your stone-cold hearts, you pathetic excuses for leaders.

“Psh. Dream on, bitch!” The words ripped from my throat like a snarl, my teeth gritted against the effort it took to speak.

Their heads snapped toward me.

Logan’s eyes narrowed, but it was Keira whose face transformed—hatred and bloodlust twisting her features into something monstrous. If looks could kill, I’d have been ash on the floor.

So why hasn’t she killed me yet?

Because she’s afraid.

Poor Keira. Poor Logan. They had no idea that when their deaths came, they wouldn’t be at my hands—but at my mother’s. And I’d be laughing when it happened.

“Baby, can I kill her?” Keira’s voice was laced with venom as she turned toward him.

“Not yet,” Logan replied, his tone ice.

“But—”

The bitch’s complaint was cut short when the massive doors swung open. A man stepped inside and bowed low before Logan. I knew him instantly—one of the Lycans I’d crossed paths with centuries ago, his face burned into my memory from battles long past.

“They are coming,” he announced, his voice steady but urgent.

Logan’s expression shifted instantly—his lips curling into something that might have been called a smile if it weren’t so filled with hunger for destruction.

“So, the main guests have arrived,” he said, rising from his throne just enough to loom taller. His eyes found mine, pinning me in place. “Be ready, daughter—you’re about to witness the battle of the century. The one I will win. And after that, I’ll kill you while you regret never siding with me.”

There it was again—that sickening use of the word daughter. As if blood alone was enough to bind us. As if he hadn’t been trying to destroy everything my family stood for since the moment we were born.

Tsk. And for what? So I could stand at his side, a puppet queen with silver strings? So I could betray the very people who would lay down their lives for me?

I spat on the ground at his feet, the gesture costing me the last bit of strength in my neck.

“I won’t regret it, my dear father,” I said, layering every syllable with mockery. “I’ll be happy to die without ever betraying my siblings. I’ll rest easier knowing I went down that way. You are not my father—and you never will be.”

The words hung in the air between us, sharp enough to draw blood.

For the briefest moment, I thought I saw something flicker in his expression—irritation, maybe even the smallest trace of uncertainty. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced with that same cold, cruel smirk.

Let him smirk. Let him think victory was already his. Because I knew one thing he didn’t—my family was coming. And when they arrived, the throne he guarded so proudly would become his coffin.