Nolan scoffs, shaking his head dismissively. “She is weak,” he argues, the words laced with disdain.
The insult hits me like a slap, and I rear back, my fingers flexing at my sides as I fight the urge to lash out.
“Weak?” My voice cuts through the room, and I can't hide the disbelief in my tone. Vines of ivy encircle my arms, snaking down to my wrists, their leaves brushing lightly against my skin.
“Yes,” Nolan presses, his gaze unwavering. “You still have the mentality of a human.”
A ripple of tension runs through the hall. Fenris, who has shifted back into his human form, steps forward, his expression hardening.
“Not here,” he growls, his tone low and dangerous. It’s a warning—a barely veiled threat to keep a lid on this rising conflict before it spills over somewhere anyone could hear.
“He’s right.” Raiden’s gaze shifts over the kneeling rebels, calculating and calm. “Take them to the dungeons.”
At his command, the guards stationed around the room close in, forming a tight formation around the rebels. Alivar steps away, his sword vanishing in a flash of light, as if it were never there. He watches the rebels, his cold expression betraying no sympathy, no pity.
“Fine,” I snap, the decision coming fast and furious. “I want answers, and I want them now. Meet me in the war room in ten minutes.” I turn on my heel, my steps carrying me swiftly out of the hall. I can feel my anger thrumming through the air, a force so intense that even the ground beneath my feet seems to tremble, as if it, too, can sense the storm forming inside me.
Chapter forty-eight
Everly
Nymeria and Anika press in on my sides, their presence a warm, grounding comfort. Nymeria leans in on my right, her big amber eyes watching me with a fierce kind of protectiveness. On my left, Anika nudges me gently, her soft fur brushing against my hand as she glances up with a gentleness that eases my tension.
I stand at the head of the long table in the war room, both Kian and Tristan silently watching me. Usually, I’d be bothered by that, but I need time with my own thoughts. I sigh, looking over the table. The map of our territories, peppered with strategic markers, lies open across its surface, but my mind is far from military logistics at the moment.
The heavy oak doors swing open, and Nolan, Fenris, and Raiden stride in, their expressions guarded.
I don’t waste a single second; the instant the doors shut, sealing us inside, I lock my gaze on Nolan. “Explain. Now.”
The force of my voice echoes in the stone chamber, ringing with all the authority I can muster.
Nolan inclines his head and takes a seat.
“The Shadoweaver’s prison is absolute,” he begins, his voice calm, calculated. “The only way for the spell to be broken is by choice. It requires free will—your willing blood—to break the seal.”
“And you thought this detail wasn’t worth mentioning until now?” I bite out, fury lacing every word.
Nolan scoffs, folding his arms. “Weakness,” he mutters. “Your human mind is still clouded with emotion and fear.”
I make a sound in the back of my throat, anger boiling over. “Weakness? Do you even hear yourself?”
Nolan’s gaze hardens. “Yes. You’re still thinking like a human, like someone who doesn’t understand the stakes of what we’re facing. You let your emotions rule you. We need a ruler who is cold and calculating. Someone who won’t run to her mate and give up everything to save him.”
My fists clench, but before I can retort, Kian speaks up, his voice calm. “Enough. Everly has grown, and if this is a choice, there is no way that she would willingly break that spell.” He casts a sharp look around the room.
“Agreed,” Tristan murmurs. “Everly’s heart may be big, but she isn’t foolish.”
Fenris and Raiden share a look that immediately has my defenses up.
“What?” I demand.
Raiden sighs and runs a hand through his horns. “Look, I have complete faith in you . . . ”
“But?” I press.
“But I know how much you love Maxon, he is the other half of your soul. If the Shadoweaver uses him as leverage–”
“She already is!” I shout.
