Chapter 12 Death

Chapter 12 Death
NYX

“Zephyr…” 

I pace the narrow curve of the pit, my boots slipping in old blood. My chest heaves. “Please, just. Just listen to me. We can get out of this.”

His aim is direct. Unfaltering. It’s life and death and Zephyr has made a choice. “How?” He mumbles through clenched teeth. “You heard the rules. Only one of us lives!”

“But if we can prove we didn’t do it, then both live!”

“Not in Blackhollow.” His grip around the knife suggests the same.

I stagger back. I don’t stop. A man of his size will kill me in half a second. 

His eyelids are red, laser eyes focused on mine with the precision of a predator. His teeth are gritted, clattering. “I am sorry. I am sorry,” he begs, yet doesn’t stop stomping closer, swinging hard.

There’s less and less room to hide.

“How can you save my life then try to take it!” I cry.

My head shoots up. My voice is hoarse. “We didn’t do it! Someone else put the wolfsbane in the decanter. Check the cellars! Check the kitchens. Might be the bitch you lots call Luna!”

My words bounce off stone and come back mocked by laughter and jeers. 

They relentlessly chant for death, hungry for blood. 

Zephyr finally stands still. His shoulders fold inward as he cries, shaking his head over and over. “I’m sorry, Nyx. I’m so sorry.”

“Stop apologizing and help me think!” I yell, forcing him to look at me. “We prove it wasn’t us and they have to let us out.”

“That’s impossible!”

“I am not dying here today, Zephyr. Not by your hands!” 

Above us the crowd roars, drunk on the drama. “Crybaby!” someone bellows. 

“Grow a spine and gut the bitch already!”

Gods. I can’t wait to wipe out this barbaric clan. 

I whirl, frantically searching the rim until my eyes crash into Alpha Kane’s. He’s still in his seat, beaming as though this is the best entertainment he’s had in years.

One of his thick arms is draped over the back of a guard’s shoulder, while the other slowly caresses the fur of his black, regal cloak. 

He notices me, then propels closer, resting his elbows on his knees. 

His lips curled in that lazy, cruel smirk that makes me want to claw his face off. Or kiss it. All at the same damn time.

I must be insane. 

I bite my lips until I taste blood.

Suddenly, Zephyr’s hand clamps my wrist. He lets out a psychotic yell and effortlessly drags me backward until my spine hits the rough wall. 

“You can’t do this!” My lips quiver. 

The edge of the knife kisses my throat, saying otherwise. Zephyr becomes one with the anger, his expression contorted into disdain. Scorn. “Surrender.”

I shut my eyes. “Just get it over with.”

Momentarily, there are flutters, cracks in that hardened glare, but barely. He presses the tip deeper into my skin.

“I lied,” Zephyr whispers, biting into every word. Tears drip off his chin onto my collarbone. “I never forgave the Alpha. Never.”

My eyes widen because I know what that means. I keep my neck lifted, swallowing gently to avoid the bite of the cold steel pressed against it. 

“My mate was six months pregnant when Alpha Kane burned Red Hollow. Dark morning. I woke up to her screaming while the roof fell on us. The pack was burned down. Adults and children alike, dead. He killed them all. All of them.”

He pauses to catch his breath. “He took everything and left me breathing just to pour his wine. How ironic. Each day, I wake up and I serve him. Each day, I wake up and I pray to the gods for his head. Guess what? The gods are dead, Nyx!” He spits.

“10 minutes!” A guard bellows. “Or it rains arrows on both of ya.”

Zephyr continues. “Been trying to kill him for twelve years. Twelve years and nothing worked. Twelve years of plotting. Poison was the last resort.”

His words punch the air out of my lungs. I stare blankly. 

He’s the man who called me little sister, who skipped stones with me at the lake. Now, there’s just a stranger wearing his face.

The crowd starts chanting his name.

Zephyr’s grip shakes. “I thought today…  I thought maybe this was the gods finally giving me the chance.” A broken laugh spills out of him. “That if you carried the tray. You, the fiercest I know, then success might come. I could end him, and you take the fall for it, Nyx. You!”

I try to speak. Nothing but silence comes out. He was going to frame me and let me die. 

Zephyr shoves me down hard—the knife clatters beside my hand.

“Pick it,” he orders, resignation flickering across his face. “End it for both of us.”

“No!” I shove it away. “We’re getting out together—”

He doesn’t let me finish.

In one heartbeat he snatches the knife and forces the hilt into my palm, wrapping both our hands around it.

I pound his chest angrily. “What are you—”

Zephyr slams his own chest onto the blade.

Second ticks. One. The resistance of flesh. Two. His groan. Three. Hot blood. 

My eyes bulge.

My hands tremble. My knuckles are drenched in red. I look up. 

Light drains in his eyes. I—

I can’t—

I can’t breathe.

My mouth opens in a scream that never comes.

Zephyr coughs, only red. Zephyr coughs up smiles through the pain. His eyes glaze. “You’re the only one who can save us now,” he rasps. “I know what you are, Nightbane. End him. For all of us.”

His knees buckle and he hits the ground in a forward fold. 

I am still trembling, still lost in this hazy, blurred world. 

Zephyr’s forehead thumps my shoulder, and goes heavy.

He’s dead.

Just… dead.

The crowd’s roar comes at a distant echo. All I see and feel is Zephyr. All I smell is him. My lungs tangle up. 

Zephyr’s blood soaks warm into my dress, my skin, my soul.

My lips part and I scream. At the top of my lungs, above the noise, about thoughts, above the fight. I scream. 

I scream until my throat bleeds. 

The world narrows to the weight of the man dead in my arms and the monster on the ledge still wearing that same sick satisfied smirk.



The guards drag me by the arms out of the ring. Zephyr’s blood is still sticky on my skin. 

Somewhere between the pit and the palace, I manage to twist my wrist enough to slip the little glass vial from between my breasts and let it fall into a crack between the stones where it’s safe.

I don’t feel safe. Don’t know where they are taking me. Can’t believe he’s dead.

Zephyr is dead. Every heartbeat of mine says his name. 

Zephyr. Zephyr. Zephyr.

I feel hollowed out, completely empty. The pain in my heart makes me want to carve it out and toss it in the bin.

They shove me through the doors of Alpha Kane’s private chamber and slam them behind me. 

The familiar room holds a feast. A roasted pheasant, black cherries in silver bowls, and wine—Zephyr’s wine. 

I smell Alpha Kane before I see him. His scent beckons. It claws at me.

Eventually, my eyes wander and I find him seated at the head of the table with his sleeves rolled up. “Your reward,” he gestures with one lazy hand. “For winning.”

I stare at him through the blur of tears that won’t stop. The earth is cold beneath my feet. “What happens to his body?”

He shrugs, pours himself wine. “Traitors rot where they fall. I don’t keep souvenirs.”

My knees shake. “You knew,” I whisper. “You knew it was Zephyr all along.”

He offers me a slow, uninterested nod. “He’s been growing wolfsbane in the old herb garden behind the stables. He walks that path every market day. What he didn’t know is… I watched it bloom.” His mouth curves. “You, omega, are many things. Stupid isn’t one of them. I knew you didn’t season my cup.”

“Then why…” my voice falters. I rest my hands on my knees to keep from crumbling. “Why did you make me kill him? Why the ring, why the show?!”

“Because it’s fun.”

He sets the goblet down and crosses the room until we’re breathing the same air. 

My space is invaded. Slowly, deliberately, he presses his forehead to mine. The gesture is so intimate it feels obscene.

My fingers flicker by my sides.

“What do you really know about Zephyr’s family?” he murmurs against my skin.

I try to pull back. Alpha Kane’s arms wind around my waist and he holds me close. My breasts press into his chest and heat crawls up my face.

My heart pounds, but not with rage, or even disgust. 

With want. 

“RedHollow didn’t just trade wine,” he says. “They traded wolves. Zephyr’s father laced barrels with wolfsbane and sold them to slavers. Two thousand of my people. My men, women, and children. They drank and died choking on their own blood. So I gave RedHollow a taste of their own vintage.” His voice is eerily calm. “Keeping the boy alive was mercy. Tonight he finally used it up.”

I jerk away. “You’re lying.”

“Believe what you want. The dead don’t argue.”

I look at the feast and feel my stomach turn inside out. “I’m not hungry. Save it for your dogs.”

I walk out. Alpha Kanes watches me go but makes no move to stop me.

At the threshold before I reach for the door, he speaks. “Mourn all you want. Tomorrow night, it ends. Come to me, or I will come find you.”

I slam the door. 

Back in the maids’ dormitory I collapse onto my cot and cry until my ribs ache, until there is nothing left but dry sobs and the smell of Zephyr’s blood baked into my skin. 

I can’t scrub it off no matter how hard I try. Sleep feels impossible, but exhaustion drags me under anyway.

Lying down, something hard digs into my spine—like a rock, small and discomforting—and I roll the mat back.

There, glinting, is the same tiny glass vial I threw away hours ago. There’s barely a scratch on it. Beneath it is a folded square of parchment.

I skeptically pick it up.

‘Good job staying alive. First dose tomorrow night or the deal is off. Your mother is better. Aura says hi.’— it reads.

I stare at the words until they blur.

Only one thing is clear.

Whoever wants Alpha Kane dead, whoever hired me, lives under the same roof. 

I am being watched.