Chapter 3

One day until I disappeared forever.

The backlash from shattering the blood pact, combined with the abyssal venom finally eating through my veins, had left me barely alive.

The poison had spread into my heart. I lay sprawled on the cold floor, too weak to even lift my head.

Lupa lay curled in the depths of my consciousness, her presence barely a flicker. Yesterday's explosion had nearly destroyed her completely—what remained was fragile, fractured.

But even now, she whimpered softly in my mind, trying through our bond to shoulder some of my pain.

In this cold tent, with death closing in, she was all I had.

Suddenly, her whimpering stopped.

A low growl rumbled through my skull. My ear, pressed against the stone, caught the heavy thud of boots approaching.

The tent flap ripped open. Cold wind rushed in.

Iliya swept in with a squad of armed elven guards. Fox fur draped across her shoulders. In her hand, a crystal-studded whip. She looked down at me the way someone might examine a stain on their shoe.

"Hold her down," she ordered.

Lupa felt the danger. Even shattered as she was, she clawed to the surface and seized control.

Pain ripped through me as my body shifted against its will. My pupils elongated into slits. Fangs burst through my gums. A snarl tore from my throat—raw and feral.

"What are you doing?" I tried to rise, but guards slammed me back down. A boot ground into my injured spine.

Iliya walked closer and sighed, nudging my cheek with the tip of her boot.

"Yvette, the physician says only a pureblooded wolf's heart-blood can cure the frost poison in my system. You're the only high-tier pureblood in the court. Othlan's already given permission."

"Like hell!" I thrashed against the hands pinning me down. "My wolf is already dying. If you take half my heart-blood now, Lupa won't survive!"

"Don't be selfish." Iliya's voice turned saccharine, her expression the picture of innocent concern. "It's just half your blood. You're strong—you'll heal. But without it, I'll die. You wouldn't want that on your conscience, would you?"

Guards produced magic chains, looping them around my throat and limbs, yanking them tight.

Lupa went wild. My body fought back with desperate, animal fury. My fangs sank into a guard's forearm, tearing through muscle. Blood sprayed across the floor.

More chains wrapped around me. Anti-magic runes seared into my skin with a hissing burn.

"Stop! Let go of me!" I screamed through a mouthful of blood, tears streaming down my face.

Othlan walked in. He took in the chaos—the blood, the struggling guards—and his brow furrowed in annoyance.

"What's all this noise? It's just a blood draw."

"Othlan, she won't cooperate. She went feral and attacked the guards." Iliya immediately threw herself into his arms, her voice breaking with practiced distress.

Othlan looked at me sprawled on the floor, filthy and desperate. His eyes held nothing but cold indifference.

"Yvette, Iliya needs your blood. I overlooked your tantrum yesterday with the sword. Don't test me again. With your healing ability, half your blood won't kill you. You'll recover with rest."

"Othlan, please..." My voice cracked. I dragged myself forward despite the chains sawing into bone, blood pooling beneath me. "Lupa is all I have left. This will kill her. I've bled for you—burned my soul for you. Just this once, spare her. Please."

Othlan stared down at me. Impatience flashed across his face. His voice went ice-cold.

"Rein in that feral side, bleed quietly, and apologize to Iliya on your knees. Or I'll have them drain you like the animal you are. Your choice."

The chains cut deep. Pain screamed through every bone.

I knew he meant it.

To save Lupa—the only living thing left in my mind—I closed my eyes.

I bit through my lip, swallowed the blood and shame flooding my throat, and slowly bent the knees that had carried me through countless battles for him. Preparing to kneel before her.

My knees hovered an inch above the stone.

Then—a howl ripped through my skull. Not pain. Rage.

"No." Lupa's voice, fierce and final. "We don't kneel."

Deep in my mind, I felt it—felt her choose. Felt her core begin to fracture.

Boom.

Violent energy exploded from my chest. The chains shattered. My body—no longer mine—lunged toward Iliya like a storm.

"Insolent beast!" Othlan's eyes flashed. Without hesitation, he raised his hand.

Lightning struck.

It punched through my ribs. I heard them crack—felt them cave inward, splintering.

For a heartbeat, I hung suspended. Then gravity dragged me down and I slammed into the floor, limbs bent at wrong angles.

Black blood erupted from my mouth, thick with fragments of my own organs.

Then the bond snapped.

I felt Lupa torn away—ripped out of me like someone had reached into my chest and carved out my heart. The space where she'd lived went silent. Hollow.

I lay there drowning in my own blood. My body started shutting down. The green bled from my eyes. My fangs receded, leaving raw, bleeding gums.

The wolf was gone.

My mind went silent.

"Stubborn fool." Othlan's voice was flat. He watched me convulse without a flicker of emotion. "Should've known better."

He glanced at the blood spreading across the floor—black and reeking of venom.

"Useless now. She destroyed her own core." He turned to Iliya, his voice softening. "I'll send hunters to the abyss. They'll find something better for you."

Iliya nestled against him, her voice sweet. "Thank you, Othlan."

They turned and left.

Didn't look back.

I lay there, beyond tears. Beyond screaming.

Everything felt distant. Like I was watching someone else bleed out on cold stone.

The last ember in my chest—the one that had kept burning through everything—finally died with Lupa.

Silence filled my head. No heartbeat from another soul. No warm presence curled in the corners of my mind.

Just emptiness.

Then—the dragon's voice, ancient and inevitable:

"The pact is sealed. Your mortal ties are severed. In twelve hours, the flames will come."