Chapter Fifty-Five #2
His hair was lighter, longer, and worn loose. His eyes were a pale sea blue, bright, and full of certainty. A scar ran along his throat like the memory of a blade.
The entire hall inhaled as one at the sight of him, but Thorne remained utterly motionless. Even his rage paused, as if stunned by the sight.
The strange male’s gaze swept the temple, taking in the bound Alphas, the priestesses, and the crowded Courts. Then his eyes landed on me. On the blood on my glowing palm and on the crescent grooves lit on the stone dais behind me.
His mouth curved. There was no kindness or amusement in his expression, only cold certainty. He stepped forward into the moonlight like it belonged to him. “Brother,” he said, voice smooth as ice. “You’ve been sitting on my throne for a long time.”
Thorne’s tone went low and controlled, all the Savage King. Though I could imagine what that restraint cost him. “Caelen.”
The name hit me like a punch, even if I’d seen it coming. His brother, the one that was presumed dead... was very much alive.
Caelen’s gaze never left me as he spoke. “And you’ve been preparing my queen.”
My blood turned to frost.
Neris snapped, finally finding her voice. “This is sacred ground—”
“I know that well, High Priestess.” Caelen didn’t even look at her as he responded. Instead, he lifted his chin slightly toward me. “Calista Vale.” He said my name as if tasting the syllables. “The queen with no wolf.”
My lungs locked.
His eyes gleamed. “Selraya does not crown by accident and neither does Frostcrag.”
Savage’s chest expanded, blocking me more fully now, a flesh and blood wall. His movements vibrated with barely contained violence. “Do not speak to her.”
Caelen smiled wider. “Or what?” he asked softly. “You’ll summon your Wolvryn? Tear your own brother apart in front of your Courts and the goddess?” His gaze slid over the bound Alphas. “With all your witnesses gagged and bleeding?”
Tarrik laughed under his breath, delighted.
Caelen took another step. His eyes flickered with entitlement. “I’ve come to claim what is mine.”
Savage’s shoulders rose, breath turning rough as he reached for my hand and pulled me into his side. “You have no claim. I fought for this throne and won it in blood.”
Caelen’s gaze sharpened. “But I carry firstborn blood,” he replied. “And I am the rightful Alpha of the Frostcrag line by succession.” His voice lifted, carrying through the silent temple. “You know the old law, brother. Frostcrag was meant to pass to me.”
My stomach churned.
“Frostcrag, not Lunaris,” Savage growled. “I claimed the crown of Alpha King on my own merit.”
“I’ll spill whatever blood I have to, brother, to take Lunaris.” Caelen’s eyes narrowed. “Just as you did.” The elder Ashenfell looked at me again, and something in that stare made my skin crawl. “Besides, the bride contract was never meant for you.”
My hand tightened instinctively in Savage’s grip. “Thorne…” I whispered so low only he could hear. A hard silver flare cut through his gaze, then softened as if my voice had pulled him back by the throat.
Caelen’s mouth curved. “The bride was meant for the true king.”
Tarrik leaned in, pleased as poison. “Go on,” he purred. “Tell them all, prince. Don’t speak so softly, let all of Frostcrag know.”
Caelen’s eyes sparked, and he spoke to the entire temple as if he’d rehearsed it for years.
“I am Caelen Ashenfell,” he declared. “True heir of Frostcrag and the Wolvryn Courts of Lunaris.” Then his gaze locked on mine, bright and merciless.
“And I have come to claim my throne…” His attention slid from my palm to the blood-lit crescent grooves and to the binding ceremony, before settling on me. “…and my Moon Crowned queen.”
Thorne’s hand tightened around mine so hard it bordered on pain.
The temple’s walls hummed, and Selraya’s gemstone heart flared. And somewhere deep inside, I could have sworn I felt something ancient shift, as if the goddess herself had craned her neck to listen more carefully.
Caelen lifted his hand toward me, and Savage’s growl tore through the hall, raw and wolf-deep. “Do. Not. Touch. Her.”
His brother’s smile widened anyway as he took one more step.
The crescent grooves beneath my feet flashed, and the light snapped into a single, violent thread. The brilliant rope lashed across the dais, reaching for Caelen’s outstretched hand.
I sucked in a sharp breath.
It was as if the temple was choosing. Like Selraya had decided the last word would not belong to kings at all.
The thread wrapped around Caelen’s wrist in a shackle of moonlight, and a crack vibrated across the Moon Temple, the sound like bone breaking beneath the goddess’s hand.
A blinding white fury tore through the chamber, and the last thing I felt was Thorne’s hand ripping from mine.
To Be Continued…