Chapter 31 Conflicts Of The Hearts
Levi moved through the palace halls with quiet precision, there wasn't a single trace of panic on his face. Soldiers rushed around, trying to contain the chaos following Sebastian’s outburst, but Levi remained focused. His fingers closed securely around the item he had taken from Maya’s neck moments before Nina dragged her into the shadows.
An emerald necklace. It was the same kind each shadow wielder wore. His sharp sight had caught the movement of their necklaces as they fought. He knew right then that it meant something. He wouldn't had let the shadow wielder take Maya if he did not have a backup plan.
He reached the strategy chamber and shut the door behind him. Only then did he pull the necklace fully into view, letting the green gemstone catch the faint lantern light. It pulsed with a strange aura, something otherworldly that made Levi’s instincts raise their hackles.
"So," He said quietly, a cold smirk tugging at his lips, "You're one of them after all, Maya."
Not a flinch. Not a hint of regret. If anything, there was a twinge of satisfaction in confirming what he had suspected. Her oddly timed questions. Her constant proximity to the queen. The way her eyes held so much pain when killed off that shadow wielder in front of her...
"Traitor," he muttered.
He placed the necklace on the large oak table and leaned over it. His mind moved rapidly, dissecting every detail and every possibility. If every shadow wielder wore one of these, then it meant that the necklaces weren't mere ornaments.
"They’re connected," Levi said under his breath as he studied the emerald necklace. He knew deep down it was a locator, a link. Something binding them together.
If he could figure out how it worked, he could trace it. And if he could traced it…
He would find where they are. And what they are. He would find Fernanda.
That was all that mattered. But a small part of him questioned whether that was truly all that mattered.
He rolled his shoulders, preparing himself. There was no room for emotion, not when the Queen's life was at stake. He didn't need to see Sebastian to know he was currently spiraling. That man would do all it takes to get back his woman and it would be foolish to stand in his way.
Which is why Levi needed to think. Someone needed a clear head to see beyond what had just happened. That someone was him.
Levi lifted the necklace again, sharper now. "You’re going to show me exactly where your people crawl out from," he whispered. "And then I’ll drag them out by the throat."
He didn’t care what ancient magic the necklace held, he would break it apart if he had to. The shadow wielders wanted a war?
He would gladly give them one.
He tucked the necklace into a protective cloth and strode toward the one place in the palace that housed knowledge older than any living Lycan, the Archive. It was said to contain records from before the kingdoms split. If there was any mention of the shadow wielders, of objects infused with their powers… he would find it.
Yolanda drifted somewhere between sleep and pain. Her body felt heavy, as though weighted down by stones, but the soft mattress beneath her gave a strange comfort she couldn’t fully embrace. She blinked once, then again, forcing her eyelids to obey. Slowly, the world began to take shape. The scent of herbs… the faint warmth of healing lamps… the muted echo of footsteps outside the door.
The Royal infirmary.
She tried lifting her leg. The pain that shot through her made her gasp, but it was duller than before, her leg was healed, yet sore.
Her hands trembled as she touched her bandaged thigh. So she had survived. Someone had pulled her back from that moment in the tunnel where everything went wrong.
"Fernanda…" She whispered hoarsely, memory returning in fragments. The shadows. That hooded figure. The queen disappearing right in front of her eyes.
Panic fluttered in her chest and she forced her blurry vision toward the room, searching for someone, anyone, who could tell her Fernanda was alive.
But what she saw instead made her blood run cold, in the far corner of the infirmary stood Sebastian. He was perfectly still with his hands folded behind him and shoulders rigid. And his eyes were cold and dark and were fixed directly on her, promising nothing good.
Yolanda’s breath caught in her throat. She had never seen him look at her like that. This wasn’t the composed, icy king trying to maintain control. This was something darker. Something cracked and murderous.
She tried to sit up straighter, but the movement sent a bolt of pain up her side. He didn’t move to help her. He didn’t even blink.
He spoke the moment she was fully awake. His voice was cold, not angry, not shouting, cold. The kind of cold that burned.
"What," Sebastian said, every word slow and unfeeling, "were you doing with Fernanda… at the tunnel?"
Yolanda stiffened. Even in her weakest state, the tone alone forced fear into her bones. His voice held no warmth, only accusation.
"I… I don’t know," She whispered. "Your Majesty, I—"
Sebastian stepped forward once. A single step that felt like a threat. "Do not waste my time."
She swallowed hard. "I swear, I don’t–"
"Yolanda." His voice dropped even lower, a deadly whisper. "I am asking you one last time." Sebastian didn't want to snap her neck right then and there out of fury. She was still Fernanda's friend and she would never forgive him if he did that.
Yolanda felt her pulse racing. The room suddenly felt too small and suffocating. Sebastian didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t need to. The stillness in him was far worse.
He stood inches from her bed now, eyes boring into her like she was prey. "What were you doing… at the tunnel… with my queen?" The threat wasn’t spoken out loud, it didn’t have to be. It lingered between every breath he took.
Yolanda opened and closed her mouth helplessly, trying to bottle the panic clawing at her throat. How could she explain something she barely understood herself? She remembered Fernanda’s urgency, her trembling hands, the fear pressing down on both of them.
"I’m waiting," Sebastian said.
Finally, Yolanda spoke the truth.
"She wanted to leave, Your Majesty. She planned to escape through the tunnel again. I tried to talk her out of it, I did. But she was scared. She said she couldn’t stay here anymore, that she... that she—”
Sebastian scoffed quietly. It wasn’t an amused scoff. It wasn’t even disbelief. It was a sound so sharp it cut through her chest like a blade.
“You expect me to believe that?” he asked, voice suddenly colder than before. “You expect me to believe Fernanda would run from me again?
His jaw tightened, but the rest of him remained carved from stone. He was finding it hard to believe that the same Fernanda who had kissed him with that much fervor would run again from him.
"Try again." He said.
Yolanda felt her fear twist painfully inside her. But something else rose with it, anger. Both at Sebastian and for Fernanda. Because for the first time, Yolanda saw it clearly. Fernanda had tried to leave again… because she was hurting. Because she was scared. Because the man standing before her now, wrapped in cold fury, refused to see the pieces of himself breaking her.
Yolanda forced her spine straighter despite the pain. Her fingers dug into the blanket.
"If only you had stopped giving her more reasons to leave you," She whispered.
The words left her mouth before her brain could stop them. The silence that followed was suffocating. Sebastian’s expression didn’t change. Not at first.
But something in his eyes flickered for a heartbeat, a glimmer of something raw, jagged, and buried too deeply for anyone else to see.
Whether it was regret, hurt or rage, Yolanda couldn't tell.
He stared at her for a very long moment. So long she felt her skin freezing under the weight of his gaze. So long the ticking of the infirmary clock felt thunderous.
Then, without a word, Sebastian straightened his shoulders. He gave her one last unreadable look, "Better hope I find Fernanda, or things won't be too pretty for you." He said before turning away.
He walked out of the infirmary quietly, his footsteps steady… almost too steady. And Yolanda, left alone in the dimly lit room, realized that her words had hit him.
But only time will tell.