CHAPTER 11
617 Words
The first attack came before dawn.
Raven jolted awake to the sound of howling—not Lucien’s pack. These were deeper. Savage. Twisted.
The mountain shook.
Within seconds, the castle alarms blared in haunting, low chimes. Raven grabbed the black leather suit Elara enchanted for her—built to withstand both claw and flame—and dashed toward the outer walls, power tingling beneath her skin like lightning under ice.
Lucien met her on the staircase, blood already staining his claws.
“They’ve breached the north gate,” he growled. “Mutated rogues. Not born… made.”
“Made by what?” she panted, heart racing.
He didn’t answer.
Not because he didn’t want to—but because someone answered for him.
A dark figure stood in the courtyard below—horned, cloaked in night, red lightning flickering in his wake.
The rogues swarmed around him like insects.
Raven felt a chill crawl up her spine.
“Who the hell—” she started.
But Dante appeared beside her in a rush of cold wind. “His name is Vael. Demon-blooded. He was once Lucien’s brother.”
Her head whipped toward Lucien. “What?!”
Lucien’s jaw clenched. “Half-brother. I thought he was dead.”
“Well,” Dante said grimly, “he’s not.”
Vael’s voice echoed through the fortress, though his lips never moved.
> “Give me the girl. The Devil’s Mate. And I’ll spare the rest.”
Raven stepped forward, fury boiling. “Come take me then, you horned asshole.”
Vael’s head tilted. “So brave. So doomed.”
The rogues lunged.
What followed was chaos—wolves clashing with monsters, spells lighting up the sky, blood soaking the snow in red ribbons. Raven felt her powers ignite.
Lightning burst from her hands as she flung two rogues back.
Lucien transformed mid-air, tackling a beast twice his size.
Dante’s fangs flashed as he drained one rogue dry, eyes blazing.
And Raven—Raven became something else.
She floated an inch above the ground. Her eyes turned silver-black. Her voice cracked with power.
> “You want me?” she roared. “Then bleed for it.”
She raised her hands and sent a storm into the battlefield.
Rogues screamed as their flesh scorched and froze simultaneously. The mountain groaned beneath the force.
Even Vael staggered—his eyes widening.
But Raven’s power didn’t stop.
Lucien lunged to pull her back. “You’ll kill yourself!”
Dante grabbed her hand. “Control it, Raven. Or it controls you.”
Raven trembled, chest heaving, blood running from her nose—but she forced the magic to bend.
And then everything went silent.
The snow was red. The rogues were dead. Only Vael remained, wounded but grinning.
> “Impressive,” he said. “But you’re not ready yet.”
And with a wave of his clawed hand, he vanished into ash.
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After the battle...
Lucien sat beside Raven, wrapping her in his cloak. “I should’ve told you about Vael.”
“Damn right,” she rasped. “We’re mates, remember?”
His fingers brushed her cheek, stained with blood. “I’m afraid if you know everything… you’ll choose him. Dante.”
She blinked at him. “What does that even mean?”
Lucien’s eyes dimmed. “Because if you knew what I did to Vael... to your mother… you might never forgive me.”
Raven’s heart slammed against her ribs. “My… mother?”
Dante stepped forward. “What aren’t you telling her, Alpha?”
Lucien looked at them both—and whispered:
> “Raven’s mother was one of us. And I was the one who ordered her death.”
- Writer
