Nightfall territory had never felt so empty.
Lucien stood at the highest balcony of the stronghold, staring into the endless forest stretching beneath the moon. The wind tugged at his coat, cold and relentless, but he barely felt it. His mind replayed the same images on an endless loop blood on stone, terror in Seraphine’s eyes, the way her voice had cracked when she said she loved him.
You were sent to kill me.
The words tasted like poison.
He had said them to wound her. To push her away before the bond between them destroyed them both.
But that didn’t stop the ache ripping through his chest.
Behind him, the fortress pulsed with unease. The pack felt it his turmoil, his fury, his grief. Wolves prowled restlessly through the halls, their instincts screaming that their Alpha was broke
