Sebastian IV
The weight of my failure presses heavily on my chest as I replay the events in my mind. This is my fault. Part of me doesn’t want to admit it, but I can’t deny the truth. Joseph had warned me, but I refused to believe him I slidn’t want to face the idea that someone could challenge, that they could take down our dragons. That arrogance, my unwillingness to prepare, is what led us here almost defeated, wounded, and vulnerable,
The memory of pain Lances through my back, sharp and visit remember the searing, burn as I fell, and then… nothing. My world had gone dark. Now, as 1 look around, the stone walls of the cell where I woke feel colder, the air thicker with the metallic scent of blood and sweat. The don torchlight flickers against the rough–hewn stone, casting long, shifting shadows that make the narrow corridor seem alive.
di
Celine’s scream had jolted me awake, the sound cutting through my haze like a blade. My Instincts had taken over. I could have acted in my human form, but Helios my dragon panicked. For the first time in years, lost control. Helios surped forward, desperate to protect her. The shift was immediate, violent, and all consuming
Now, with her safely cradled in my arms, guilt paws at mot scared her. I saw it in her eyes, the way her body. tensed when she looked at Hellos. For now, I’ll keep my dragon locked away. She needs to feel safe, and Helios he’s anything but comforting. When the time is right, when she’s ready, she’ll meet him again on her terms.
–
“Their men have given up,” a soldier reports as I step out of the cells, his voice calin but strained
I glance across the pack grounds, the chaotic battlefield now eerily still. The once–proud soldiers kneel in submission, their heads bowed. The promil is littered with debris shattered weapons, broken stone, and the blood of the fallen. The towering: pack house looms in the distance, Its imposing structure made of dark stone and timber. Its once pristine façade now bears the scars of battle tracks in the walls, windows shattered, and doors hanging ajar.
“And the Alpha and Lama?” I ask, scanning the kneeling figures but finding; no sign of them.
‘Alpha Dale is there,” the soldier says, pointing toward a group of restrained wolves. Dale sits among them, his face bruised, his pride shattered “The Lama has gone; she ran,” he adds, and I nod curtly.
“We will find her,” I say, my tone firm. “Place him in a cell The soldiers who arrived last will remain on watch. They will guard him and the others. Effective immediately, we’re taking over the pack house.”
My voice carries across the grounds, and I ensure every soldier hears. There will be no room for missteps.
Turning toward the pack house, I step inside, my boots echoing against the hardwood floors. The interior is grand but suffocating. The walls are lined with portraits of past alphas, their faces stern and cold. Chandeliers hang from the high ceilings, their crystals catching the dim light, though many are damaged, their delicate pieces scattered across the floor. The once–polished wooden banister of the staircase is splintered, evidence of the chaos that unfolded here.
I make my way toward the bedrooms, but a thought stops the. Celine’s memories of this place of these rooms- might be tainted. I glance down at her, still in my arms, her face pale with exhaustion.
“Which room would you rather stay in?” I ask softly. I do want to risk bringing her into a space that might dredge up painful memories.
“Any,” she whispers, her voice barely audible. She avolds my gaze, her exhaustion and vulnerability clear.
I nod and walk down the corridor, carefully choosing a room. Pushing open a door, I step inside. The room Is simple, with a large bed draped in heavy, dark green line. The walls are plain stone, and a single wooden wardrobe stands in the corner. It’s not lavish, but it’s clean and untouched by the chaos outside, Gently, I place
+25 BONUS
Suting Things
her on the bed, her body sinking into the soft mattress.
“I’ll have someone bring food for you,” I say, leaning forward to kiss her cheek. “Then we need to talk.”
Her tired eyes meet mine for a moment before closing, and I know she has so much to tell me. But for now, I leave her to rest, my mind already turning to the work ahead.
uding the stairs, I find a soldier near the kitchen. “Have someone prepare food,” I order. The soldier nods
quickly and disappears through a doorway.
Sitting at a worn wooden table in the common area, I turn to Joseph, who has been waiting
