Emory took a step forward, her eyes locked onto Rahl. As she ascended the platform, an electric energy enveloped her, making the air crackle with an otherworldly power. Rahl extended a hand, signalling for Emory to join him. “Kane is a-” “You’re not about to spill that secret without my say-so, are you?” Kane’s growl echoed from below. “She needs to know,” Rahl insisted, his piercing gaze locking with Kane’s. Emory couldn’t help but admire the contrasting dynamics between the two. Kane, despite his intimidating exterior, had a rugged charm that intrigued Emory. Rahl, on the other hand, exuded a refined confidence that drew her in. As their silent conflict played out, Emory realized she had questions that needed answers—about Kane, Rahl, and the Dracans. “I’ll reveal it when the time is right, but not now. She needs to awaken and triumph in this tournament. You can’t postpone it indefinitely,” Kane stated, climbing the short steps to the platform. “We might need to schedule it for

They followed the army of guards out of Dante’s estate to the tower, up the stairs and through the winding corridors of the castle. A set of heavy steel doors greeted them when they reached the top. It creaked open slightly, revealing a dark chamber, and Emory peered inside anxiously. As the guard in charge of the others turned to face Emory and Sabine, he frowned. “Lady Sabine, only the hunter was-” “Call me Emory or nothing at all, but never use that word again.” Emory’s words rang out with fiery emphasis. “I’ll be right here, Emory.” Sabine squeezed her hand and stepped back. Running her fingers through her damp red hair, Emory took a deep breath before entering. Whatever this was, she dreaded it because it made her stomach churn and her heart race. As soon as she crossed the threshold, the doors creaked shut and the room lit up. She squinted, straining her eyes to pick up the finer points of the room. Her eyes were drawn to the int

“How did it go?” Sabine asked as they followed the guards back towards the king’s tower.“I’m not sure,” Emory replied.At that point, she wasn’t even thinking about the council, but Dante’s response to what she’d asked for.Emory slowed down as they approached the gardenia-scented courtyard. At the centre was a grand fountain with a marble statue of a woman reaching out with an offering of water–that wasn’t there before. Curious at the bizarre sight, Emory wondered what triggered the sudden appearance.The memory of Dante’s request brought a sigh to her lips. Giving Dante what he wanted was the only way to free her family. It was her fault they were captured; she had to pay the price. Even so, she didn’t understand why Dante was so determined to destroy Morrian. Was this his desperate attempt to stop Aworyn from scourging the Lycans?Unless she figured this out fast, Mor

There was almost nothing underneath the beige gown she had on, except for the knife strapped to her right upper thigh. With a subtle tug, she let the thin fabric caress her skin, the light colour accentuating her golden tan. The straps of the dress crossed across her chest and fell down her shoulders to drape over her back like a cape. With her crimson hair in a neat ponytail, her neck and arms were on full display.Taking in the surrounding forest around the castle walls, she licked her lips and tasted the strawberry gloss Sabine had stained them with. With her bare feet digging into the sand, she observed the flock of women clad in red hooded robes and golden slashes around her and Sabine.“Did Dante explain how the ceremony works?” Sabine asked her.Emory looked up at the full moon shining brightly in the sky, casting a silvery glow over the forest, then at the group of women again.“What’s there to tell? At least it’s not

“Let’s begin. Take her hand, son of Wulric,” Aworyn commanded, breaking Emory out of her reverie.Aworyn’s long, wavy silver locks floated behind her and Dante complied, bowing before taking her hand. His touch was electric, like a thousand tiny sparks. Emory looked up into his eyes and time seemed to stand still.They stood face-to-face as the world around them faded. It was almost as if the goddess’ magical presence had enchanted them, intensifying their bond. Then something Aworyn said echoed in her head.Son of Wulric?Emory squinted at Dante. She couldn’t believe it--he was related to Lycan King Wulric, and as if to confirm it, the wind seemed to carry his name on its wings. It didn’t make any sense; the Moores were not of noble blood. There was no way in hell Dante was related to Lord Rydell Wulric, the second son of the first king of Morrian.“Son of Wulric?” she asked him.