I nearly collapsed under the weight of that vision, knees trembling, lungs tight, when suddenly a hand touched my shoulder.
My heart lurched.
I snapped my gaze sideways, and it was Alistair Ashthorne. His expression was unreadable as always, but his eyes.... they flickered, studying too closely.
“Are you alright?” he asked in a low voice. “It looks like you’re burning up.”
His touch felt wrong against my skin, too cold, too foreign. I shifted away almost imdiately, my body rejecting it like poison. “I’m fine,” I muttered quickly, forcing my voice steady even though my pulse thundered in my ears. I didn’t et his gaze again, instead fixing my eyes back on the bonfire where Kieran still stood closr to his mother’s body.
But I could feel Alistair’s stare linger on for far too long. Probing. Questioning. Watching.
The murmur of the crowd hushed when Cyrin moved forward. His steps were asured, his face solemn, but his eyes, clear and unwavering, were filled with an old grief that seed to resurface the mont he looked upon Queen Athena’s still form. He stood tall before the students, his voice heavy yet gentle as it carried through the night air.
“Queen Athena Valerius Hunter,” Cyrin began, “the warrior queen, the strongest woman to ever walk among us.”
His tone cut through the silence, pulling every ear, every heart toward him.
“I knew her long before she beca Queen,” Cyrin continued, and his eyes softened with mory. “I was a student in the royal infirmary back then, just another healer fumbling through my books. She was not royalty then. She was not seated upon a throne. She was simply Athena, the relentless warrior tearing through the ranks, rising higher, faster, stronger than any wolf of her ti. I rember watching her co back from battle, bruised and bloodied but always standing taller than those who had fallen beside her. She carried her victories not as trophies, but as responsibilities. For every enemy she struck down, she bore the weight of those she couldn’t save.”
A few students bowed their heads, and I felt the crowd tighten closer, the silence was heavy.
“She was fierce,” Cyrin said, his voice steady, “but she was also kind. A contradiction to so, but not to those who truly knew her. Her hand that wielded a blade without hesitation was the sa hand that lifted a child out of the mud. The sa hand that stitched the wounds of her fellow warriors in the dead of night when no healers were left standing. The sa hand that comforted , when I lost comrades in my early years, when I nearly lost faith in the calling of a healer. She reminded that life is sacred, and so long as we still draw breath, there is work to be done.”
His voice wavered slightly, but he pressed on.
“She beca a Queen, yes. She beca the Luna of this Kingdom, the mother of heirs, the pillar of her people. But what made her extraordinary was not her crown. It was the way she loved. The way she gave of herself, entirely and endlessly, until there was nothing left to give. She was a mother to her son, but also to her Kingdom. Her reign was not built on fear, but on the unshakable respect she earned with her every step, her every choice.”
Cyrin bowed his head then, and his words grew softer, though no less powerful.
“She was the fiercest wolf, the strongest queen, and the most compassionate soul I have ever known. And though her body lies here tonight, though the flas will take her from our sight, her legacy, her love, her strength, her sacrifice, will live on in us all. We have lost a queen, yes.... but more than that, we have lost the heart of this Kingdom.”
A shiver passed through the crowd. Many lowered their heads, so wept openly, others simply stood frozen in silence, as though even the act of breathing felt too loud in the wake of his words.
Cyrin stepped back, his eyes clouded with grief.
And then Kieran stepped forward.
My chest tightened instantly. His face was unreadable, carved from stone, but there was sothing in his eyes, sothing I couldn’t place. A storm, a breaking. He moved with the torch he had gotten from Astrid, his hand steady despite everything, despite the entire weight of his loss pressing down on him.
The fire caught instantly, flas leaping and roaring as they devoured the Queen’s body wrapped in its crimson robe. It blazed furiously, a pyre reaching to the heavens, and the reflection of its light danced across Kieran’s face. He stood there like a shadow carved against the flas, his mother burning before him
The fire roared, its crackling louder than any voice, louder than the murmurs of grief and prayers whispered in the crowd. I stood frozen, my eyes locked on the flas consuming Queen Athena’s body.
But then, sothing shifted.
At first, it was subtle, a strange pull in my chest. Then it deepened, clawing through my veins like fire beneath my skin. The flas weren’t just burning her. It felt like they were burning too.
The longer I stared, the more the heat seared into , until I swore I could feel the fire licking my skin, biting at . Itvfelt like a thousand sharp knives pierced through every inch of , tearing, shredding, jabbing, relentless and rciless.
I gasped, stumbling slightly, clutching my arms.
No one noticed. Their eyes were fixed on the pyre, on Kieran.
But inside , it was chaos.
The incoherent whispers that had haunted surged yet again, swelling, louder and louder until they weren’t whispers anymore. They were screams. A cacophony of voices clawing at the walls of my mind. They spoke in tongues I didn’t understand, overlapping, screeching, demanding. The sound scraped at my skull like jagged nails on steel, tearing through until I thought my head would split open.
My vision blurred. The world tilted. The fire’s glow blurred into a sar of red and gold, and my eyes rolled back before I could stop it.
And then.... darkness swallowed whole.
*******
A great waterfall cascaded down a jagged cliffside, its thunder shaking the earth beneath it. Behind the veil of rushing water, hidden deep within the cliff, was a cavern swallowed in darkness. The sound of chains clinking echoed faintly within, faint but constant
Inside, the air reeked of damp stone and silver.
There, bound to the jagged walls of the cavern, was a man.
A huge man.
Chains upon chains wrapped around him, dozens of thick silver restraints biting into his flesh, pinning him like a beast. His arms stretched outward, his legs shackled, his torso lashed in gleaming restraints that pulsed faintly with runes of suppression. Silver burns marred his skin where the tal touched him, angry red welts carved into muscle.
His head hung low, long black hair matted and falling across his face like a shroud. For a mont, he seed lifeless, just another prisoner forgotten in the dark.
Then suddenly....
His head snapped upward.
And his eyes, his eyes burned like molten embers, glowing a savage, searing red.
The cavern seed to recoil with the weight of his fury. The silver chains rattled violently against the stone, straining against his raw strength.
It was him.
The Alpha King.
He had felt it.
The breaking.
The final, devastating shatter of the bond that had tethered his soul to that of his mate’s.
His lips parted, his voice tore from his throat, not a word, but a growl. A growl so guttural, so raw with grief, that it made the cavern itself tremble.
“Athena!!!”
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