The Rogue King's Sun

The Afterglow

Chapter 9: The Afterglow

Vanya stared at me, her face pale in the golden light radiating from my body. Her hand hovered inches from the Sun-Stone, but she didn't touch it. She couldn't. The sheer heat of my aura was making the air in the chamber shimmer.

"You're a monster," she whispered, her voice trembling.

"No," I said, stepping over the rubble of the wall I had just demolished. "I'm the person you told to go back to the kitchens."

I reached out and grabbed the Sun-Stone. The moment my fingers touched the glowing crystal, the golden fire around me was sucked into the stone, and the entire Labyrinth fell into a peaceful, warm silence. The trial was over.

I turned and walked out of the main entrance. The crowd of Rogues went dead silent as I emerged, holding the stone high. Then, a roar of approval went up that shook the mountain.

But I didn't care about the cheers. My eyes were searching for one person.

Silas was at the front. He didn't cheer. His face was a mask of thunder. Before I could say a word, he marched over, swept me up into his arms, and carried me toward the Citadel.

"Silas! Put me down, I won!" I protested, though my strength was rapidly failing.

"You're bleeding, Elara," he growled, his voice thick with a mix of fury and terror. "The stone can wait. You’re lucky that silver didn't touch your heart."

He carried me straight to his private quarters—a place no one else was allowed to enter. He set me down on the edge of his massive, fur-covered bed and immediately began tearing into a first-aid kit.

"I had to show them," I whispered, wincing as he used a wet cloth to wipe the soot and blood from my shoulder.

"You showed them," he said, his hands surprisingly gentle despite his anger. He paused, his thumb brushing the skin just below my Celestial mark. "But do you have any idea what it did to me, watching you fall into that pit? My wolf almost tore this mountain apart to get to you."

He looked up, and the raw vulnerability in his crimson eyes took my breath away. He wasn't just a King; he was a man who was terrified of losing the only thing that made him feel human.

"I’m okay, Silas," I said softly, reaching up to touch his face.

His eyes darkened. He caught my hand, pressing a kiss into my palm that sent a jolt of electricity straight to my core. "You aren't just a Queen to these people, Elara. You're everything to me. If you're going to be reckless, you're going to do it with me by your side."

He leaned in, his nose grazing mine. The scent of him—cedar, spice, and power—was intoxicating. The "mate" bond I’d felt with Jace had been a thin string; what I felt for Silas was a heavy iron chain, unbreakable and fierce.

"Stay," he murmured against my lips. "Tonight. No training. No packs. No wars. Just us."

I didn't answer with words. I pulled him down into a kiss that tasted of victory and something far deeper.

But as the candles flickered low in the room, a low, ominous howl echoed from the valley below. It wasn't the sound of one wolf. It was hundreds.

Jace hadn't gone home. He had called in the Great Council.