The Last Aetherwyn: Mated to the Alpha Prince

Chapter 10

Lyna flinched slightly but covered it with a wry smile. "No. Just saying, maybe you don't have to make it seem that you're… reveling in it."

"What if I say I do enjoy it?" Isaldora said, voice smooth but icy. "Either way, they deserved what happened to them."

Hyden's voice cut through, sharp as a blade. "And what if one day we do or say something you don't like? Do we end up gutted too?"

Isaldora turned her head slowly, deliberately, eyes gleaming like a predator's. "You wanna find out? Be my guest."

He didn't flinch. "That's the problem, you see. You don't even trust us. Even though we are standing by your side."

She let out a laugh that didn't reach her eyes. "Oh, please. Spare me the pitty sentiment."

She leaned forward and her voice dropped razor-thin as she spoke.

"The illusion of loyalty and trust," she said coldly, "is what burned Aetherwyn."

Her words cut sharper, her voice dropping lower, like death itself was speaking.

"Where was that loyalty when they slaughtered my bloodline? When my people's screams went unanswered?"

She didn't raise her voice — she didn't need to. The fury pressed down heavy, suffocating.

"Loyalty," she spat, "is just another fuckin' pretty word for standing by while the fire burns."

The silence that followed was raw. Neither Hyden nor Lyna spoke. They couldn't — not against truth that vicious.

They both saw it. The ruin. The broken child rebuilt into something monstrous. And Hyden knew very well of the pain Isaldora went through. He had been with her.

Lyna finally broke it, her voice gentle, careful. "If you keep feeding that rage… it'll eat everything. Even the light."

Isaldora's gaze stayed fixed, cold.

So Lyna pushed again. "The very light Aetherwyn was known for. The light you were supposed to carry. If you let this consume you, whatever's left of them in you dies too."

Something flickered in Isaldora's eyes before it was gone.

She said nothing.

The silence stretched. Thick and uncomfortable as they sat.

Then Isaldora rose, her dress brushing the floor as she moved for the door. Her hand was already on the handle when Hyden's voice came, quieter this time. Tired.

"Izzy."

She froze. The endearment hit her like a pang to the chest.

"Edina asked me to pass on her blessings," he continued. "She hopes you'll find happiness. Love, even."

For a heartbeat, something soft flickered across her face. Barely there, but there.

Edina. Of course it was her. The only one who'd wish her something so naïve, so impossible. Happiness and love. It sounded more like a fairytale than a future to her. When she was young she dreamed of finding love, her mate. It was what any supernatural lived for. But that's it, she used to dream. Used to.

A tiny, grave smile ghosted over her lips.

"Tell her I'll visit, sometime soon" she murmured, voice soft, stripped of its edge.

Then she pulled the door open and stepped out, leaving the weight of her absence behind.

She turned the corner and nearly stopped in her tracks.

At the very end of the hall, in a corridor that went nowhere, she saw Kaelith Duskbane pacing like a caged animal. His jaw was tight, shoulders tensed, eyes darting around furiously as though he was searching for something that wasn't there.

Isaldora almost ignored him. Almost. But curiosity got the better of her.

Kaelith ran a hand down his face, muttering under his breath. He could've sworn he saw her come this way — with that strange guy who didn't smell remotely human. The corridor was empty. Only a few rooms were here and all were empty. He couldn't even get a scent. Just utter silence.

And it made his skin crawl.

Where the hell had she gone?

His chest tightened, instincts prickling. Was she in danger? No. But why would he care? She wasn't his problem. She wasn't his anything.

So why did his gut feel like it was being twisted with barbed wire?

Even worse, his wolf was a wreck — pacing in his head giving him a headache. He was restless, snarling every time he pictured her with someone else.

Kaelith gritted his teeth, trying to shove it back down. The damn beast only growled louder.

What the f**k is wrong with you? Why are you acting like that? He asked his wolf, but did he care to answer? Nope he didn't. Kaelith ran his hand over his hair in frustration.

"Looking for something at a dead end, Mr. Bane?"

The voice cut through his thoughts, smooth and clipped — but unmistakably familiar. He turned sharply and there she was. The woman who was driving him crazy, wrecking him and his beast.

Though Isaldora's mood was bitter, but she was genuinely amused by Kaelith right now.

Kaelith froze. What the hell—? He didn't even damn hear her coming.

"You—" he blinked, thrown. "How did you—"

She arched her brow amused, watching him with that infuriating, unreadable stare.

"I thought I saw you… come down here," he muttered, taking a step closer. "With someone." His wolf growled at the memory, but weirdly, it eased the second his eyes landed on her.

Her brow arched, lips tugging into a half-smirk. "I went to the restroom. Sorry for not leaving a memo on the wall. Didn't know I would be missed." Her tone was rather mocking but amused.

He didn't buy it. Not for a second. But calling her out would make him look like an obsessive i***t, and he wasn't about to hand her that kind of ammunition.

She turned to leave, her dress brushing the floor. And then—snag. Her step fumbled with the hem making her lose balance.

Perfect. Just perfect. She braced for impact, ready to eat marble. But before she hit, a strong arm snapped around her waist and yanked her upright. She collided hard against a broad chest, breath whooshing out of her.

Kaelith had caught her, maybe a little too roughly. She slammed into him, her hand flat against his chest, the other hooking around his neck to steady herself.

Her body froze, her face just inches from his. Her breath stuttered, chest pressing against him. His fingers tightened at her waist, and without meaning to, her hand around his neck did the same. She felt a strange heat crawling up her skin making her warm.

The air between them sparked, sharp and dizzying.

She was supposed to hate him. She did hate him. He was her enemy. So why the hell couldn't she move?

Kaelith just stared at her, gaze locked, drinking in her features. His wolf—finally, finally quiet for the first time all night. Satisfied. But the hunger it left behind was worse. He lifted a hand, barely brushing her cheek. Her skin was softer than he expected. Too damn soft. His heartbeat thundered in his ears. He wanted to kiss her. God, he wanted to taste her.

And then—CRASH.

Something toppled further down the corridor, shattering the moment like glass.

They jolted apart, breathless, flushed, both pretending they hadn't just been caught in something they couldn't explain.

Isaldora blinked, as if waking from a dream. She straightened herself, trying to regain her composure.

"Goodnight, Mr. Bane." Her voice was cool but unsteady at the edges.

Kaelith's jaw clenched, eyes darkening. His voice came out rougher than he meant. "Yeah. I'll see you soon."

Isaldora stormed out of the corridor without looking back. Her heart was banging against her ribs like a damn war drum. It was going so wild she had to clutch her chest, like maybe that could ease the thrumming.

What the hell just happened?

——

Isaldora stood on the balcony of her suite, a silk robe clinging to her damp skin, her celestial blonde hair dripping from the bath. The night air bit cold against her warm skin, yet beneath it she burned, aching for something she couldn't name. And her thoughts smoldered.

Kaelith.

His name alone stirred something unwelcome in her chest. The way his fingers had gripped her. The way her breath had faltered — stolen by something she didn't understand. Her knuckles whitened as she clutched the balcony's edge. Why had her heart raced beneath his touch? Why did her soul stumble when his eyes locked on hers?

She hated it.

And yet, her heart betrayed her. Even now, it clenched as the memory replayed — the heat of his hand, the raw weight in his gaze, the spark that had flickered inside her. Need. As though some part of her had always been waiting for him.

No.

She tore her eyes from the star-strewn sky, swallowing hard. She could not feel this. Not toward him. Not toward any of them. They were the enemy. But her breath still hitched at the memory of his voice saying her name. Isla. Not her true name, and still—there had been something in the way he spoke it. As if he was bound to her without knowing why. As if she was bound to him the same.

Her grip on the railing tightened. She could not afford to feel anything. Not when vengeance still burned in her veins.

And yet Edina's voice lingered in her mind, gentle as ever, like a whisper meant to calm storms. "Child, not everyone carries the blame. The cruelty of a few does not make the whole world guilty. Don't let their sins turn your heart against those who had no hand in it."

Edina—the elder elf who had steadied the tempest inside her when vengeance was all she craved. It was Edina who kept her from breaking, who reminded her that she was more than the ruin left behind. Isaldora had never admitted it aloud, but she respected Edina more than anyone. Without her, might have surrendered to the darkness long ago, might have already burned everything to the ground without a second thought just to make it feel her pain.

Hyden had tried too, though in his own stubborn way. Always pushing her harder, dragging her to train she didn't always see the point of, when all she wanted was silence. She never quite understood why the hell he was like that, but damn, the elf was relentless. Sometimes, even irritatingly so. A faint smile tugged at her lips remembering his constant nagging.

Both Edina and Hyden had tried to give her fragments of the love and care that was ripped away from her too soon. But the hollow inside her was too deep to fill. Maybe if it hadn't been for Edina, she might have abandoned every trace of conscience, surrendering to that darkness back then. After all, what was she then? Just a twelve-year-old girl—broken, who once carried joy and light had been stripped bare, left with nothing but shadows.

And yet now… after all these years… she felt something stir again. A warmth she thought she'd lost forever.

Kaelith Bane. Or should she say… Kaelith Duskbane?

She had heard plenty about the Duskbanes—alphas among alphas, sitting high on the council, the very council forged by her ancestors' hands. And now she needed to know—were the Duskbanes innocent of Aetherwyn's fall… or were they just another set of hands drenched in her family's blood.