Chapter 119 Hundred and twenty four
“Don’t take another step toward her.” The command cut through the smoke-thick air before Sienna even saw him, a voice she had tried to bury deep enough to stop trembling at the sound of it. But it still lived in her like a remembered wound, sharp, familiar, unforgettable.
She didn’t turn at first. She stood in the shattered courtyard of the Citadel, the world around her drowning in fire and screams and clashing steel. Wolves lunged from every direction, packs ripping into packs, loyalty spilling into chaos. The ground trembled under a dozen different battles, and the night sky glowed an angry red as the flames swallowed the lower city. But that voice, his voice, cut through everything, silencing the riot inside her chest.
“Ryder,” she whispered, and the name slipped from her tongue before she could stop it. She hated how it sounded, soft, aching, the opposite of everything she needed to be in this moment.
She finally turned.
He stood at the edge of the courtyard, half-hidden by drifting embers, his body tense as if every muscle fought the urge to break. The mask he wore earlier was gone, leaving his face bare, shadowed by the flicker of dying fires. His hair hung loose, dark strands falling over his brow. His eyes, those gold-flecked eyes, glowed with something feral, the curse burning bright beneath the surface. But beneath all of that, beneath the power and the rage and the wildness, she saw him. The man who once held her when the world fell apart. The man who had died in her arms a dozen times in visions forced by the goddess. The man she renounced to save. The man she still loved with a pain that felt like breaking glass inside her chest.
She exhaled slowly and tightened her grip on her blade. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I didn’t ask permission.” He stepped closer, ash drifting around him like ghostly snow. His eyes never left hers. “And I’m done staying away.”
“You’re going to die,” she said, voice low and steady despite the tremor she felt beneath her ribs. “The curse will tear you apart if you come any nearer.”
“It already is.” He reached up, pressing a hand to his chest as if trying to hold something inside. “Every step toward you feels like being torn open. Every second I’m far from you feels worse.”
“That’s not love, Ryder. That’s Lunaris pulling strings.”
“Don’t,” he warned, moving closer. “Don’t pretend we were ever just the goddess’s playthings.”
Her jaw tightened. “We are now.”
His eyes darkened at that, the gold burning hotter. A roar sounded somewhere beyond the walls, but neither of them turned. The battlefield seemed to breathe around them, dying warriors, burning stone, shattered spears littering the ground. In the middle of it all, they stood facing each other like the last two pieces of a world that had already broken.
“Why are you fighting for them?” Ryder asked. “Zane’s rebels, Renna’s poison, the Council’s greed, they all want you dead. So why stand alone?”
“Because if I don’t hold this place, everything else falls.” She stepped toward him, blade lowered but not relaxed. “And you know that.”
He studied her for a long moment. “I know you don’t trust them. You shouldn’t. You know they’ll turn on you the moment they’ve used you.”
“And what about you?” she asked quietly. “Would you turn on me too, Ryder? Would the curse make sure of it?”
His breath hitched. The firelight flickered across his face, catching the rawness in his expression. “I would rather die than raise a blade against you.”
“That’s the problem.” Her voice softened, barely more than a breath. “You might not get a choice.”
He froze at that, his gaze falling to her hand, the small tremor in her grip, the way her fingers flexed around the weapon. “You think I came here to fight you?”
“You came here because you can’t stay away,” she murmured. “And that alone is going to destroy us both.”
A violent crash shook the courtyard, stone cracking, a building collapsing in flames behind them. Screams echoed, but still, they didn’t look away. For a heartbeat, it was only them, standing in the center of a burning kingdom, two souls bound by a curse older than their blood.
“Say something,” she whispered. “Say anything other than silence.”
“I never wanted this war,” he said, stepping closer again. “I never asked to be the Ghost Alpha. I never wanted the packs kneeling to me like I’m some omen. I just wanted, ”
“Me,” she finished when he couldn’t. “You always wanted me.”
“Always.” His voice cracked. “Even when I tried not to.”
She swallowed hard, her throat tight with unsaid things. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Wanting me is killing you.”
“Killing me is nothing new.” He gave a broken half-laugh, shaking his head. “I’ve died in your arms in a thousand visions. Lunaris made sure of it.”
“Don’t, ” She stepped back when he moved closer. “Don’t make this harder.”
“I’m not leaving.” His voice dropped, softer but sharper than a blade. “Not again.”
“You don’t have a choice.”
“I do.” His eyes locked with hers. “I choose you.”
“And I choose the realm.” She lifted her blade between them. “I choose the lives that depend on me. I choose every innocent behind these walls, every family who wants a future, every child who needs a world they won’t fear.”
“And where does that leave me?” he asked, voice breaking despite the steel beneath it.
She hesitated.
“In the past,” she whispered.
The words hit him like a physical blow. He blinked slowly, as if trying to accept something his heart refused to understand. “You don’t mean that.”
“I have to.”
“No,” he said, stepping forward with sudden intensity. “No, you’re lying. You think distancing yourself keeps me safe, but it won’t. You think pushing me away breaks the curse, but it doesn’t. You think I’m stronger without you, ”
“You’re alive without me,” she corrected sharply. “That’s what matters.”
He stared at her blade pointed toward him. Then he lifted his own weapon, but not as a threat. He held it loosely, almost gently, lowering it until the tip touched the ground. “If you wanted me dead,” he whispered, “you would’ve struck already.”
Her breath caught.
“And if you wanted to live,” he added, “you would’ve stayed away from me.”
“Don’t twist this.”
“Then tell me the truth,” he demanded. “Tell me you don’t want me here.”
She didn’t answer.
Her silence told him everything.
A howl split the air somewhere near the gates, Zane’s forces breaking through another line. The Citadel shook again, stone raining from above. Smoke curled into the sky. The world was cracking open around them.
Ryder lifted his blade, this time in defense, not surrender. His stance shifted, the curse pulsing in his veins, turning his eyes brighter, wilder. “If you’re standing with them,” he said quietly, “then you’re standing against me.”
The words brushed across her skin like a cold wind.
“Ryder,” she murmured. “Don’t do this.”
“I’m done running.” He raised his blade, meeting her stance. “And I’m done pretending we’re on the same side.”
“So am I,” she whispered, lifting her weapon to meet his.
The flames roared higher.
The ground trembled beneath them.
All the noise of the battlefield faded into nothing.
Only their breaths remained.
Only their eyes.
Only the two of them standing face to face as fate coiled around them like a tightening noose.
Then, they moved.