Lucien’s POV
The scent of blood still lingered in the air.
I stood at the edge of the eastern ridge, the forest quiet around me, too quiet. The moon hung low behind the clouds, casting silver over the treetops like a veil. The message the rogues left was no longer just a warning.
It was a declaration of war.
And Elena… she was at the heart of it.
I clenched the charred cloth in my fist again, the symbol etched in blood and ash now seared into my mind. That same twisted mark had bloomed over her chest like fire on skin. I couldn’t unsee it. Couldn’t unfeel the helpless rage when she trembled in my arms, not from fear—but from something ancient waking inside her.
She hadn’t belonged to me since the beginning.
She belonged to fate.
A low growl stirred in my throat. I hated that word—f
