Chapter 6 The Prince in the Shadows

The Drax estate had turned into a fortress overnight.

Every exit was sealed. The forest perimeter now held double patrols. Wolves in human form stalked the trees, and the air smelled like steel, blood, and something older-like the past had come back to settle a debt.

Raven stood on the balcony of her temporary suite, eyes fixed on the moonlit trees beyond the wall. Somewhere out there, the Nightfangs waited. Watching. Hunting.

She didn't know what was worse: the silence... or the feeling of being wanted by something she couldn't see.

Behind her, Lucien emerged from the shadows, a fresh scar dragging down his ribcage. He was half-dressed, towel around his neck, hair wet from the shower. And still, his presence filled the room like a storm looking for something to destroy.

"You shouldn't be alone," he said.

Raven didn't look at him. "I'm not scared."

"I didn't say you were. But they'll come again. They always do."

She finally turned. "The Prince-Malrick. Is he really stronger than you?"

Lucien nodded slowly. "Stronger. Older. Cursed."

"Cursed?"

"He's not fully wolf anymore," Lucien said. "Something infected him years ago-magic from the east. He merged it with his bloodline. Became something... worse."

"Why would he want me?"

Lucien walked closer, resting his hands on the balcony rail beside hers. "Because if he mates with you, he'll have access to the White Moon line. That blood carries purity. Power. It could undo his curse. Make him unstoppable."

"And if I refuse?"

"He'll take you anyway," Lucien said grimly. "Dead or alive."

Raven's jaw clenched. "I won't let anyone use me. Not even you."

Lucien looked at her then, really looked. "I never wanted to use you. I wanted to protect my pack. But now... it's not just that."

Her breath hitched. "Then what is it?"

"You," he said quietly. "You make the beast quiet. You made me want to live again."

Their eyes held the weight of something unspoken, until a sharp knock shattered the moment.

Helena burst in without waiting.

"They're inside the forest," she said. "And they're not hiding."

Lucien was already pulling on a shirt, strapping a blade to his thigh. "How many?"

"Too many."

"Is the barrier holding?"

"For now. But they're not attacking."

Raven frowned. "Then what are they doing?"

Helena hesitated. "They're demanding an audience."

"With who?"

Lucien's voice dropped like ice. "With you."

Raven stared. "What?"

Helena nodded. "One of Malrick's envoys came forward. Alone. Said he brings a message."

Lucien growled. "It's a trap."

"It might not be," Helena said. "But either way, we don't have a choice. If we ignore it, they'll force the issue."

Lucien's eyes flicked to Raven. "You don't go near him."

"I'm not some damsel," she snapped. "This is my life on the line."

"You're not ready."

"Then get me ready."

He stared at her, jaw locked.

Then he nodded. "Helena, prepare the chamber. She's getting marked."

Raven flinched. "I said I wasn't-"

"It's not the claiming mark," Helena interrupted. "This one is protective. Wards you from compulsion, blood-binding, and tracking."

Raven hesitated. "Will it hurt?"

"Yes," Helena said. "But not as much as what Malrick will do to you if he gets his hands on you."

She swallowed hard. "Then do it."

Minutes later, Raven stood in a ritual chamber beneath the estate, surrounded by flickering candles and ancient markings drawn in ash and blood. She stripped to the waist, standing in the center of the circle as Helena approached with a silver blade.

"This will bind your spirit," Helena said. "It won't save you, but it will make you harder to bend."

Lucien stood outside the circle, arms crossed, watching every move.

Raven nodded. "Do it."

The first cut was sharp, straight across her spine between her shoulder blades. Blood welled, then sizzled as Helena pressed silver dust into the wound. Raven bit down on a scream.

The second cut formed a crescent below the first. Then a third, smaller cut between her ribs.

By the fourth mark, she collapsed to her knees, shaking, sweat pouring down her face.

"Almost done," Helena whispered, voice tight. "One more."

The final stroke was across her collarbone. A straight line that flared white-hot, searing through her bones.

Then-it was done.

The mark glowed faintly. Then faded into her skin like ink soaked into parchment.

Raven panted, vision swimming. "I hate you."

Helena smirked. "That's how I know it worked."

Lucien moved to her side, kneeling. "You did good."

She leaned into him, just for a moment. "Let's go meet the monster."

---

The envoy was waiting by the western gate.

He looked almost human-tall, lean, dressed in black silk with silver embroidery. His eyes glowed faintly, but his voice was calm, cultured.

He bowed as Raven and Lucien approached, flanked by guards.

"My Prince sends his regards," he said, lips curling. "He wishes no war-only resolution."

Lucien growled. "Your kind started this war centuries ago."

"And yet, here we are, offering peace."

"Get to the point," Raven snapped.

The envoy turned to her, head tilted. "You are more beautiful than the prophecy described."

She didn't flinch. "And you're more punchable than I expected."

Lucien smirked.

The envoy chuckled. "Malrick invites you to parley. Neutral ground. The ruins of the old Temple."

"No."

The envoy's eyes glinted. "If you refuse, he will burn this estate to ash. No more games. No more warnings. He has seen your power. He wants it. And he always gets what he wants."

Lucien stepped forward. "If he touches her-"

"He won't touch her," the envoy said. "Unless she allows it."

Raven's blood ran cold.

She knew what that meant. Consent under duress was still consent to creatures like them.

"I'll think about it," she said, voice steady.

The envoy smiled. "Do not take too long. The moon rises fuller each night."

Then he vanished.

Literally-one blink, and he was gone.

Lucien turned to her. "There's no parley."

"No," Raven agreed. "But maybe there's bait."

He stared at her. "You're not going."

"I might not have to," she said. "But if I can draw him out, force him to reveal himself, maybe we can kill the bastard before he makes his move."

"You want to bait a prince who drinks magic and kills alphas in their sleep?"

She nodded. "You said it yourself, Lucien. I'm not ordinary."

Lucien closed the space between them, eyes burning. "You're insane."

"I learned from the best."

For a long second, he didn't move.

Then he grabbed her face, pulled her into a kiss that was all teeth and heat and fire.

She kissed him back, fierce and defiant, like it was the last time.

When they broke apart, he whispered, "We do it my way."

"No," she said. "We do it our way."

And the moon rose over the forest, huge and silver.

Somewhere in the distance, a new howl echoed through the night.

Not Lucien's.

Not his pack.

This one was older.

Hungrier.

And it knew her name.