Chapter 46
The throne room was a cathedral of shadows.
Thick mist slithered along the black marble floors, swallowing the light of the torches lining the walls.
The air was eerily cold, like the nights when Noskari were nearby, but Vaelora sat atop her obsidian throne as though she were carved from the darkness itself.
She wore a skin-tight black gown, sleeveless, plunging low enough to leave little to the imagination. She was an exquisite creature of death and seduction, and her eyes gleamed with satisfaction as she regarded her prisoners, now forced to their knees before her dais.
Vaelora pointed lazily at Evelyne. “That one looks far too relaxed. Tighten her chains—I want to hear her cry.”
“Argh!” Evelyne gasped as the Noskari wrenched her arms back, the iron biting into her skin.
Vaelora’s smile curved sharper. “More. Stretch her until she remembers what helplessness feels like.”
Evelyne clenched her jaw, her arms screaming with pain as she fought against the agony.
“Enough!” Kaldrek snarled.
Vaelora sighed, the sound edged with false boredom.
“Fine, fine. Are you always this stiff?” She gave a careless flick of her hand, a mocking dismissal, before clearing her throat.
“Before we make our little introductions, I believe it’s time you finally heard my story.
” Her gaze slid to Kaldrek, cruel amusement flickering in her eyes.
“Since my darling son couldn’t be bothered to share even a single detail. ”
Evelyne’s fingers curled into fists. The truth had splintered something deep inside her.
Kaldrek was Vaelora’s son. The witch who infected her brother’s mind and murdered her father was his mother.
It couldn’t be real. Yet she couldn’t deny it now.
He had always stood apart from the rest of the pack, and it wasn’t just because he was an alpha.
It was because witch blood ran through his veins.
Kaldrek exhaled sharply, his voice rough. “We all know what you are. But if you want to gloat, just get on with it.”
Vaelora’s smirk deepened. “Oh, Kaldrek, still so bitter. But you should know by now that I love to take my time. Just as I instructed my Noskari to do when they drained every last drop from your mother.”
Evelyne remembered what Kaldrek had told her about his parents—about the woman who had raised him, his true mother in every way that mattered.
And even if the details blurred now, tangled between truth and secrecy, one thing was sure: he had loved them deeply.
And they had been murdered by Vaelora. That kind of loss didn’t fade; it festered, and in Kaldrek, it had turned into something fierce and dangerous.
A part of her felt a flicker of sympathy for him…
but then she remembered the lies, the possibility that he had manipulated her into walking straight into Vaelora’s hands.
Still, one look at him now told her more than any words could. His face was tight with rage, his chest heaving, every muscle in his body straining against the chains like he could break them through sheer fury. He was a storm barely held back.
Across from him, Vaelora remained perfectly calm, tapping her fingers against the armrest of her throne, eyes glittering as she leaned forward, watching him unravel. “I think it’s time you all understand who I truly am. What I have sacrificed and what has been stolen from me.”
She stood, stepping down from the dais, her gown whispering against the floor.
“My sister, Kaya, and I were born beneath a rare alignment of stars. Twins are an anomaly among witches, and together we were powerful enough to rival the gods. Our bond seemed unbreakable, or so I believed.”
Evelyne’s lips parted, her mind racing to absorb every word. If she could keep Vaelora talking long enough, maybe—just maybe—Cillian would see or hear something familiar. Something that might help him remember who he was. That his sister was right in front of him.
Vaelora let out a wistful sigh. “We were inseparable as children, my sister and I. We chased knowledge together, tested the boundaries of our magic. Then we discovered a forbidden tome that described how to siphon power from the living.” Her lips curled into a pleased smile.
“We drained so many. Shifters, seers, witches. Their power became ours.”
“You killed them,” Evelyne said coldly, the accusation sharp.
Vaelora’s glance flicked to her. “You say that like it’s unnatural. But tell me, is it unnatural for a wolf to kill its prey?” She laughed softly, mockingly. “We became something greater. And for a time, Kaya agreed.” Her expression darkened, lips curling with disdain. “Until he came along.”
“Who?” Evelyne asked, keeping her tone neutral while her thoughts still raced.
“Darius,” Vaelora spat. “A wolf shifter. Powerful, arrogant. Kaya fell in love with him like some naive little girl. He made her weak. And that weakness was her undoing.”
“She turned against you,” Evelyne said, pushing the conversation forward, hoping it would buy more time; enough to figure out how to get Cillian away from Vaelora’s grip.
“She betrayed me. Darius filled her head with nonsense and told her blood magic was cruel and wrong. That she could never be my equal if she continued down our path. He poisoned her against me. So I took something from him.”
Evelyne swallowed. “You took something?”
“Oh, I did far more than that.” Her voice oozed satisfaction as she let the words hang in the air.
“I broke him. Twisted his loyalty until it bent to me. It’s fascinating how quickly a man folds once the right elixir slips into his wine.
” She examined her nails with casual elegance.
“And then I took what I needed. Lured him to my bed, conceived a child that would be mine and mine alone. Tethered him to me in a way he could never undo.”
A heavy silence followed, crashing down like a wave. Evelyne couldn’t stop the bile rising in her throat as she turned and locked eyes with Kaldrek. His expression was still, but there was something haunted in the way he held himself.
Alaric exhaled sharply. “You’re lying.”
Vaelora chuckled. “Am I? Poor Darius could never forgive himself for what he’d done. When Kaya found out, when she tried to kill me for it, she failed to realize I had already completed the blood magic ritual, and I only needed her death to make it permanent.”
Evelyne’s heart pounded wildly. “You killed your own sister?”
“Yes, but I didn’t stop there.” Vaelora’s smile widened. “Darius realized too late what had happened. He fell into despair, and he took his own life after I killed Kaya. It was quite the tragedy.”
Kaldrek drew in a quick breath, his first honest reaction since the nightmare of this conversation began.
“And with their blood spilled, I ascended. Blood magic was finally mine.”
What kind of monster was this woman? Not only had she drained other magical beings to fuel her power, but she had also drugged her sister’s lover to lure him into her bed, to get back at her sister, to conceive a child, and then slaughtered her own twin as a sacrifice to unlock blood magic.
How was Kaldrek processing this? How could he endure hearing that this was the woman who birthed him, not out of love, but as a tool?
A puppet crafted from her bloodline to replace the sister who had betrayed her.
“Twenty-five years ago, I became something more than a witch. I became eternal. And a mother.” Her smile faltered for a moment.
“Until my child was stolen from me as I lay recovering on the birthing bed. And somehow, none of my servants could tell me who had done it.” Her voice took on a chilling edge.
“That was the day I began building my army to hunt for my son and destroy those who stole him from me.”
She paused, as if savoring the memory.
“Such a shame I wiped out Darius’ entire Rimeclaw pack.
I was so certain they were the ones who took you,” she said, her dark eyes settling on Kaldrek.
“As it turns out, the true thieves were the Ironwolf pack—Darius’ most trusted allies.
I should have seen it, but I’ll blame my own hysteria for clouding my judgment. ”
Her fingers curled tightly around the arms of her throne, knuckles pale.
“We celebrated the night your parents died,” she said with a chilling smile. “My Noskari and I threw such a lovely party.”
Kaldrek spat at her feet, and her expression twisted, not in rage but disappointment.
“A shame the alpha mark chose you, Kaldrek. You and I could have ruled this world together.”
Evelyne’s chest tightened. What would he have become if the Ironwolf pack hadn’t taken him from this witch? Certainly not the alpha beside her now. Not the man she cared for. He would have been something else. Something twisted; something she might have had to destroy.
She couldn’t linger on that thought. Evelyne’s voice trembled as she pushed forward, needing to shift the conversation. “And what does any of this have to do with my brother? With the prophecy?”
Vaelora grinned. “Ah, the prophecy. A desperate attempt to stop me. But tell me, Lady Evelyne… how does one destroy a prophecy?”
“You can’t.”
“Precisely.” Vaelora exhaled, as if the subject bored her.
“A prophecy cannot be destroyed, only diverted. And I knew the witches of Velenshire would have taken precautions to keep it from unfolding. So I waited. I searched for years, looking for any clue as to what—or rather, who—had become the vessel for the prophecy.”
Her gaze slid to Cillian.
“Then I found him. The highborn son of Lord Aron Duskwood. An innocent boy, hidden behind nobility and human frailty. A child bound to a prophecy no one understood—not even I. The Great Rite did its job well, erasing the Duskwood name from every mind. But spells like that don’t stay hidden forever.
Not with the kind of power I wield now. Even this one, buried deep, eventually began to unravel beneath my touch. ”