Kaldrek clenched his jaw tightly. Evelyne could tell he was fighting back his words and instincts.
Vaelora laughed. “What a lovely family reunion. Though I’m sure my beloved Cillian couldn’t care less if I ripped his dear sister’s head from her shoulders.”
Evelyne felt the blood drain from her features. Vaelora floated over to Cillian and ran a soft, possessive hand along his face. Black, vacant eyes met hers.
“Would you, my love?” Vaelora purred, her voice laced with poison. To Evelyne’s horror, she leaned in and pressed a kiss to Cillian’s neck.
Just beneath the edge of his tunic, where the fabric gaped, Evelyne caught sight of a sigil burned into his skin. Only a glimpse, but it was enough. That was the moment true fear took hold. What had she done to him?
Vaelora turned to her thralls. “Shall we continue this discussion somewhere… cleaner?” Her voice was playful, as if this were all a game. Without waiting for a response, she turned and began her ascent from the dungeon, her movements unhurried. Cillian followed without question, trailing behind her like a puppet on invisible strings. He never once looked toward Evelyne.
Chapter 46
The throne room was a cathedral of shadows. Thick mist slithered along the black marble floors, swallowing the light of the torches lining the walls. The air was eerily cold, like the nights when Noskari were nearby, but Vaelora sat atop her obsidian throne as though she were carved from the darkness itself.
She wore a skin-tight black gown, sleeveless, plunging low enough to leave little to the imagination. She was an exquisite creature of death and seduction, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she regarded her prisoners, now forced to their knees before her dais.
Vaelora pointed lazily at Evelyne. “That one looks far too relaxed. Tighten her chains—I want to hear her cry.”
“Argh!” Evelyne gasped as the Noskari wrenched her arms back, the iron biting into her skin.
Vaelora’s smile curved sharper. “More. Stretch her until she remembers what helplessness feels like.”
Evelyne clenched her jaw, her arms screaming with pain as she fought against the agony.
“Enough!” Kaldrek snarled.
Vaelora sighed, the sound edged with false boredom. “Fine, fine. Are you always this stiff?” She gave a careless flick of her hand, a mocking dismissal, before clearing her throat. “Before we make our little introductions, I believe it’s time you finally heard my story.” Her gaze slid toKaldrek, cruel amusement flickering in her eyes. “Since my darling son couldn’t be bothered to share even a single detail.”
Evelyne’s fingers curled into fists. The truth had splintered something deep inside her. Kaldrek was Vaelora’s son. The witch who infected her brother’s mind and murdered her father was hismother. It couldn’t be real. Yet she couldn’t deny it now. He had always stood apart from the rest of the pack, and it wasn’t just because he was an alpha. It was because witch blood ran through his veins.
Kaldrek exhaled sharply, his voice rough. “We all know what you are. But if you want to gloat, just get on with it.”
Vaelora’s smirk deepened. “Oh, Kaldrek, still so bitter. But you should know by now that I love to take my time. Just as I instructed my Noskari to do when they drained every last drop from yourmother.”
Evelyne remembered what Kaldrek had told her about his parents—about the woman who had raised him, his true mother in every way that mattered. And even if the details blurred now, tangled between truth and secrecy, one thing was sure: he had loved them deeply. And they had been murdered by Vaelora. That kind of loss didn’t fade; it festered, and in Kaldrek, it had turned into something fierce and dangerous. A part of her felt a flicker of sympathy for him… but then she remembered the lies, the possibility that he had manipulated her into walking straight into Vaelora’s hands.
Still, one look at him now told her more than any words could. His face was tight with rage, his chest heaving, every muscle in his body straining against the chains like he could break them through sheer fury. He was a storm barely held back.
Across from him, Vaelora remained perfectly calm, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her throne, eyes glittering as she leaned forward,watching him unravel. “I think it’s time you all understand who I truly am. What I have sacrificed and what has been stolen from me.”
She stood, stepping down from the dais, her gown whispering against the floor.
“My sister, Kaya, and I were born beneath a rare alignment of stars. Twins are an anomaly among witches, and together we were powerful enough to rival the gods. Our bond seemed unbreakable, or so I believed.”
Evelyne’s lips parted, her mind racing to absorb every word. If she could keep Vaelora talking long enough, maybe—just maybe—Cillian would see or hear something familiar. Something that might help him remember who he was. That his sister was right in front of him.
Vaelora let out a wistful sigh. “We were inseparable as children, my sister and I. We chased knowledge together, tested the boundaries of our magic. Then we discovered a forbidden tome that described how to siphon power from the living.” Her lips curled into a pleased smile. “We drained so many. Shifters, seers, witches. Their power became ours.”
“You killed them,” Evelyne said coldly, the accusation sharp.
Vaelora’s glance flicked to her. “You say that like it’s unnatural. But tell me, is it unnatural for a wolf to kill its prey?” She laughed softly, mockingly. “We became something greater. And for a time, Kaya agreed.” Her expression darkened, lips curling with disdain. “Until he came along.”
“Who?” Evelyne asked, keeping her tone neutral while her thoughts still raced.
“Darius,” Vaelora spat. “A wolf shifter. Powerful, arrogant. Kaya fell in love with him like some naive little girl. He made her weak. And that weakness was her undoing.”
“She turned against you,” Evelyne said, pushing the conversation forward, hoping it would buy more time; enough to figure out how to get Cillian away from Vaelora’s grip.
