POV EMMA BELLE
The Great Hall had cleared, leaving only the heavy silence of the mountain and the lingering, bitter scent of Alpha frustration. I sat on my throne, my fingers subconsciously straying to the mark on my neck. It was warm, a steady pulse of silver light that acted as a constant, golden hum of support in the back of my mind. Even now, I could feel Félix nearby—a quiet presence in the shadows, trusting me, yet hurting.
The Union of the Four had to be completed. But the others had mistaken my necessity for a surrender.
"He's waiting for you in the subterranean springs," Vincent's voice drifted from the darkness near the tapestry. He didn't look at me; his eyes were fixed on the darkening horizon. "Damon's fire is volatile, Emma. He thinks the only way to anchor his sou
