"So, what's next? You're gonna kill me?" she asks, her hands cuffed to the chair she's pinned to. Her sharp eyes scan the environment, taking in the rusted zinc fence and the cracked walls that barely hold up the house sheltering them.
The stench of alcohol hangs thick in the air, burning her throat with every breath. Smoke curls from the lips and nostrils of the group lounging across a fallen tree, their satisfaction evident in every exhale.
Is it even healthy for them to share the same rolled paper?
That doesn't matter. They can do as they please. What concerns her is her own life, and whether she'll leave this hellhole with her body intact. No pressure on the king, but he better come. She doesn't want to be here any longer. The way they stare at her fuels rage, hunger, the kind that promises she won't be leaving in one piece.
"Don't worry," her captor sneers. "Your death is certain, but first, we wait for the special guest."
She knows exactly who he means. Steffen.
"What do you think will happen when he arrives?" she asks, watching his sharp teeth flash in amusement. "You couldn't defeat him last time. What makes you think today will be any different?"
His laughter erupts, a deep, guttural sound. His fingers press against his stomach as if she just told the best joke he's ever heard.
"You think I'm stupid?" he taunts. "I know what he is. A great king. Invincible. But even he has a weakness." His smirk deepens. "And I've spent years preparing for this day."
His confidence is unsettling. Still, she shakes her head. "Whatever you're planning, it won't work. He isn't coming."
At least, she hopes he isn't. A part of her fears for his safety, she doesn't want him hurt because of her.
The man scoffs. "You know nothing. He'll show up. He has to." He leans closer, voice dropping into a dangerous whisper. "If he doesn't, I'll have your corpse waiting for him by sundown."
Minutes bleed into hours. The sun sinks, surrendering the sky to a shroud of darkness.
Frustration twists his face as he strides toward her, his patience finally snapping. His hand latches onto her throat, claws sprouting from his fingers. He drags them along her skin, rage seething from him. Steffen should've come by now. What kind of king leaves his mate to die?
But no matter.
A cruel smirk stretches across his lips. He could kill her, but that would be too easy. No, there's a much crueler punishment for Steffen. Marking her as his own. That would destroy the king far worse than death.
He grips her tighter, pulling her close, his breath hot against her skin.
"What do you think you're doing?" she grits out, elbowing his chest. He doesn't budge.
"I'm making you mine," he murmurs, fangs grazing her neck. He doesn't care about the consequences—not the curse of stealing another's mate, not the eternal separation from his wolf. It's all worth it if it means bringing the king to his knees.
Just as his fangs pierce her skin
A heavy force crashes into his jaw.
He staggers back, eyes flaring wide in shock. When he looks up, a familiar figure looms before him.
"Huh," he scoffs, straightening. "You actually came."
Before he can react, another punch lands, sending him sprawling. He scrambles to his feet, only to be struck down again. Over and over, he rises, only to be thrown back to the ground.
"Attack!" he roars, and the rogues charge.
Steffen stands still, his gaze dark as he watches them sprint toward him. The sound of their paws splashing in the mud, branches cracking underfoot, it all echoes in his ears.
They close in.
Then, with a single burst of force, they're sent flying.
His eyes glow red, his dark gaze pressing them onto their knees. Blood drips from their ears, the weight of his power crashing into their skulls like a thousand magnets.
Steffen strides forward, yanking her into his chest.
"Are you okay?" His grip tightens protectively around her.
She nods. The distress in his body eases, his wolf finally settling. Her scent had guided him here like a beacon, he wouldn't have stopped until he found her.
A slow clap echoes.
"Bravo, bravo," Teslime sneers, standing tall, eyes glinting with something sinister. "As expected of the great king."
Steffen's brow furrows. Why isn't he affected?
Teslime should be writhing on the ground, gasping for air. Yet, he stands. Unshaken.
"Surprised?" Teslime grins. "Your powers don't work on me anymore. I told you, I came prepared."
A name leaves his lips.
"Binti."
From the shadows, a girl steps forward.
Her beauty is striking, smooth, dark skin glowing under the moonlight, her long braids swaying at her waist. But it's her presence that unsettles him.
"Do it," Teslime commands.
Binti raises her hands. Her lips move soundlessly, the air thickening with her chant.
A low rumble tears through the ground. Flames burst from the dirt, spinning upward, forming a circle around Steffen and Ella. The air crackles, hot and suffocating.
Teslime laughs, sharp, manic. "I haven't disappointed you, have I?"
The fire burns higher, tongues of orange licking at the dark sky. "Binti," he calls again, savoring the moment, "finish it."
Binti's eyes flick open. The whites are gone, only shadow remains.
The flames twist tighter, their heat pressing against Steffen's skin. He moves on instinct, stepping in front of Ella. The smell of burning flesh fills the air as the fire claws at his arms, but he doesn't move.
He grits his teeth, his gaze snapping to the girl. Her power feels wrong, ancient and heavy, as though it doesn't belong in her fragile body.
Teslime watches with delight. "You're not the only one with power, Steffen. Your precious immortality means nothing to a Sun Charmer."
The words land like a knife.
A Sun Charmer.
The one kind of creature whose light can burn even the immortal.
Binti's hands rise again.
Steffen drops to one knee. The world explodes into sound, screams echoing inside his head. The cries of his people, the dying calls that still haunt his nights. He tries to shut them out, but they grow louder, until pain becomes all that exists.
His roar splits through the fire.
Ella's eyes widen. Her heart hammers, guilt clawing at her chest. This is my fault. If she hadn't left the castle, if she hadn't dragged John into this, Steffen wouldn't be dying here because of her.
The fire closes in. The air burns in her lungs.
Then, light.
It starts as a flicker beneath her skin, a pulse too bright to belong to something mortal. Her body jerks upward, weightless. The ground pulls away.
Wind explodes outward.
Her hair unravels, black strands bleaching to silver as they lift around her. The heat bends away from her like it's afraid.
Her eyes open, pure white, radiant and cold.
The voice that leaves her lips is not hers.
"You dare wake me from my sleep?"
The air trembles. Teslime freezes mid-step, his face draining of color.
What stands before him isn't the girl anymore. It's something older. Something that shouldn't exist.
"No one disturbs my rest."
Her hand moves, just one effortless flick.
The rogues vanish. Not burned. Not scattered. Simply gone, as if erased from the world.
Teslime's knees buckle. His scream tears through the clearing as white flame catches his skin. The fire climbs, silent and merciless. His body convulses once, then nothing remains, not even ash.
Ella's body hangs in the air a moment longer, light rippling off her skin like waves of moonlight. Then, as suddenly as it began, the glow fades. Her eyes dim. Her body falls.
Steffen lunges forward, catching her before she hits the ground. Her skin is cold, too cold.
He presses his hand to her cheek, his breath ragged. "Ella... what have you become?"
"Help me!" Teslime's scream shreds the air.
Binti's chanting grows desperate, her words tumbling over each other in panic. In a flash of light and smoke, both vanish, swallowed by their own spell.
Silence falls.
Only the wind moves now, curling around the ruins of fire and ash.
Steffen's eyes lift slowly to the figure hovering before him.
Ella's gaze, white, glowing, infinite, locks onto his. The power radiating from her is almost suffocating, pressing against his chest until he can hardly breathe.
Her voice cuts through the still air, low and resonant.
"You."
The single word feels ancient, like the echo of a god.
"Do not wake me again."
The glow fades. Her body slackens, her hair darkening shade by shade until the silver drains away completely.
Then she falls.
Steffen lunges forward, catching her before she hits the ground. Her weight collapses into his arms, fragile and still, her skin cold as marble.
He stares down at her, heart pounding.
The field is scorched, the air heavy with smoke, and yet she breathes.
If she's human... then what the hell is she?
He brushes a lock of hair from her face, his hands trembling.
Somewhere deep inside, a voice whispers.
I told you. There's something powerful in her.
Steffen lifts his gaze toward the fading horizon, where the light bleeds into darkness. The world feels suddenly smaller, quieter.
And for the first time in a century, the king feels fear