Chapter 61 62
A cold, damp presence rolled in, curling around my skin, sliding into my lungs.
Dark mist.
It seeped through the broken doors, swirling thick and black, swallowing the chamber whole.
Everyone coughed, choked, eyes watering as the smoke wrapped around them. The guards staggered, hacking. Wolves whimpered, pawing at their muzzles.
I clutched my chest, gagging, eyes darting desperately for Gregor.
“Gregor!” I screamed, my voice breaking.
Through the haze, I saw him—massive, bloodied, still fighting, still trying to reach me. His golden eyes locked on mine, desperate, wild.
Then the mist thickened, swallowing him.
I pushed forward, stumbling, coughing, claws scraping the marble as I fought to shift.
And then—
Gone.
When the mist cleared, the chamber was wreckage. Blood on the floor. Bodies groaning. The King on his knees, coughing, eyes blazing.
And Gregor—
Gregor was gone.
“AFTER HIM!” the Queen shrieked, her mask finally cracking into something primal and vicious. Her voice sliced through the chamber, commanding the Black Fang like a general at war. “Find him! Bring me the traitor!”
I couldn’t move.
I stood frozen, staring at the empty space where he’d been. My body trembled, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The Queen’s voice whispered in my head again, venomous.
“Good girl. Keep quiet, and maybe your wolf will live long enough to watch you rot.”
The last thing I saw was her smile. That wicked, victorious smile.
And then my vision went black.
I fainted.
When I woke, the world wasn’t the same anymore.
The first thing I heard was not the gentle hum of morning, not even Sugar’s sass, but the shrill chaos of voices beyond the heavy oak doors of the chamber. A storm of arguments, shouts, and accusations raged like thunder on the other side, and I lay there, caught in that delicate space between confusion and rage.
“Marigold.”
Her voice was soft. Not sarcastic. Not teasing. Sugar’s hand gripped mine tightly, knuckles white against my trembling fingers. She looked pale, lips pressed into a line as though she’d swallowed every clever remark she’d ever wanted to throw. That’s when I knew. Things were bad.
Really bad.
I blinked, my throat dry. “Gregor—” The name barely left my lips before it caught like a stone in my chest.
Her eyes watered instantly, though she tried to mask it with a shake of her head. “He’s gone.”
The words hit harder than any strike.
I pushed myself upright, though my limbs ached as though I’d been trampled. My ears picked up fragments of what the council was shouting beyond the doors:
“Traitor!”
“Monster—”
“Proof of savagery—”
“Lock down the borders!”
Every syllable scraped at my skin, each one aimed like a blade at Gregor.
“What do you mean gone?” I demanded, my voice hoarse but rising.
Sugar bit her lip, then pulled her phone from her sleeve. She tilted the screen toward me. My breath stuttered.
It was everywhere.
Headlines. Live broadcasts. Edited clips. Photographs of the council chamber where Gregor had lost control, where his wolf had broken free, snarling and bloodied. A dozen anchors spoke over shaky footage, their voices carrying the same poisonous narrative:
ALPHA GREGOR—TRIED FOR TREASON & RAPE.
THE BEAST WHO ESCAPED JUSTICE.
ROYAL FAMILY BETRAYED—QUEEN DEMANDS HIS EXECUTION.
On one channel, the doctored video played again—our night together—but twisted into something vile. My own voice, edited, screaming no where there had only been moans of want. My image, naked, vulnerable, projected as proof of his crime.
I wanted to vomit.
“No…” My whisper cracked. “That’s not true. That’s not—”
Sugar squeezed my hand, her voice trembling, “I know. I know, Goldie. But everyone out there—” she nodded at the screen, then toward the noise of the council chamber—“they believe it. The Queen made sure of that.”
My stomach dropped.
The Queen.
Her voice still echoed in my skull, oily and cold, a whisper that pinned me like a chain: Girl, stop or I will make sure that Gregor would hang.
I shook my head, furious, nails digging into my palms until I drew blood. “He didn’t force me. He never—he’s my—” I stopped myself before the word spilled out. Mate. If I said it aloud, if anyone heard, she’d twist even that truth against us.
“Don’t.” Sugar’s tone was sharp for the first time. She leaned closer, eyes blazing with a fear she tried to disguise as warning. “Don’t say it, Marigold. You’ll only give her more to use against you.”
I pressed my trembling hands to my mouth, trying to stifle the scream clawing its way up my throat. Rage burned hot, then icy cold. Gregor’s face flooded my mind—his lips against mine before dawn, his promise he’d return by breakfast. Instead, he was branded a traitor. Instead, he was bleeding in chains. Instead, he was stolen into that mist.
And now the entire kingdom thought he was a monster.
“I can’t—” My voice broke, tears spilling down before I could stop them. “I can’t let them destroy him like this. I won’t.”
Sugar’s grip tightened, grounding me. “Then you’ll have to be careful. Do you hear me? If you move wrong, they’ll crush you too. You think the Queen doesn’t already have her claws dug into your back? One slip, and she’ll tear you open.”
I swallowed hard, staring at the floor as the weight of it settled. She was right. The Queen already had the council in her palm, already set the bait, already painted Gregor as the villain. If I revealed myself, if I shouted the truth, I wouldn’t save him. I’d only hand her more ammunition.
Still…
How long could I stand by while the world hunted the man I loved?
Through the heavy doors, a voice rang out, clearer than the rest: the King’s, weary but booming.
“Find Alpha Gregor. Bring him back alive if possible. If not… then bring me his head.”
The chamber erupted in cheers and howls of agreement.
I froze.
Sugar’s face paled further, horror etching her every feature. “Goldie… they’ve declared him prey.”
My chest ached so violently I thought I’d split apart. Gregor wasn’t just wanted—he was marked for death. Every wolf in the kingdom would be tracking him now. Every ally, every stranger, every beast trained to kill would be after his blood.
And me?
I was supposed to sit here. Silent. Watching. Pretending.
My fingers curled around the edge of the mattress until the wood creaked. My voice, though low and broken, was filled with fire.
“No. If the whole kingdom hunts him…” My jaw tightened. “Then I’ll hunt the truth.”
For the first time since I woke, Sugar didn’t argue. She only looked at me—fear in her eyes, but also something sharper. Faith.
And deep down, under all the panic, under all the pain, I felt it too.
Because Gregor wasn’t gone. He couldn’t be. He was out there somewhere—bleeding, hunted, hated.
But he was still mine. And I would find him. Even if I had to burn the kingdom to ash.