My knees buckle.
Kieran catches me instantly, his arm wrapping around my waist and pulling me to his chest. His heart is racing, pounding against my cheek.
“I’ll kill them all before I let them touch you,” he whispers savagely into my hair.
I tilt my head back. The rage is still there, but beneath it, I see fear. Not for himself, but for me.
“I know,” I whisper back.
And I do know. He would do anything for me. Would slaughter armies. Would go to war with an entire kingdom.
Our bond pulses, warm and steady despite the madness we face.
I relax into his hold, letting him support my weight. Just for a moment. Just long enough to gather my strength for whatever comes next.
The throne room empties slowly, nobles filing out with whispered conversations and sidelong glances. When the last of them finally leaves, only our small group remains. Lucian and Astra, Seth and Leon, Kieran’s delegation, and us.
Kieran’s voice cuts through the silence. “Return to your quarters.”
His warriors hesitate for only a moment before bowing and filing out. They know better than to question their alpha when he uses that tone.
The door has barely closed behind them when Astra rushes toward me, moving faster than she should in her condition. Her face is flushed with fury.
“I won’t let this happen,” she says fiercely, reaching for my hands. “Even if I have to use my powers to stop it.”
“Astra—”
“No.” Kieran’s voice is sharp. He releases me just enough to turn toward her, his expression grave. “Under no circumstances should you do that.”
Astra’s jaw sets stubbornly. “I am not going to let them—”
“You are nearing the time when you will give birth,” Kieran interrupts her, his tone gentler but no less firm. “Using your abilities could harm the child. You know this.”
I watch Astra’s hand move instinctively to her swollen belly as she is torn between fury and fear.
“Besides,” Kieran continues, “if you use your powers for this, it could incite the very war we’re trying to prevent.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Lucian asks quietly from his throne. There’s a dangerous edge to his voice.
Kieran’s smile is cold. “The Snow Mountain Pack has survived for a long time. Not because we stayed hidden, but because we’re good at getting rid of our enemies.”
The temperature in the room seems to drop again.
“I have no problem killing all the noble families,” Kieran says, his tone conversational. Almost pleasant.
Lucian goes completely still. When he speaks, the sound is low but deadly. “You can’t do that.”
Kieran meets his gaze steadily. “Then the nobles should know their place.” He pauses, and ancient power flickers across his features. “We may no longer be on the throne, but there was a reason my family held power for so many centuries.”
Lucian rises slowly to his feet. “Is that a threat?”
“I am not interested in your throne, young king.” Kieran’s voice is quiet, but it carries. “But I will not have my family threatened again. And Daciana is my family.”
Our bond is warm and strong as it flares between us.
“I am interested in the politics at hand,” Kieran continues, never dropping Lucian’s gaze, “but if you want my help, you will remind the Umbra Council that you are still the king.”
The silence that follows is suffocating.
