The snow didn’t just fall—it struck like tiny silver knives.
Ice storm had rolled over the pass, swallowing the moon and turning the narrow dirt path into sheet of ice.
Any normal horse would have broken its legs within minutes, but Kaelen’s warhorse was a massive, black-furred beast bred for northern winters and it pushed through the knee-deep drifts without missing a beat.
Soren sat embedded tightly between the horse’s neck and Kaelen’s broad chest.
And because of the three-foot chain binding their wrists, there was no longer room for distance.
Besides, Kaelen had already wrapped his heavy, fur-lined cloak completely around Soren, pulling the spell-cutter back until Soren’s spine was pressed flush against his chest while his left arm was locked around Soren’s waist, holding the reins with one hand while keeping Soren anchored to the saddle.
Soren kept his chin tucked low into the collar of the cloak, staring blankly at the horse’s dark mane.
We’re running back into a trap, Soren thought, his mind racing faster than the horse’s hooves.
The High Council doesn’t just want me executed.
They want to use my execution to strip Kaelen of his Alpha title.
A violent shudder racked Soren’s body, though it wasn’t from the freezing wind.
Instantly, Kaelen’s arm tightened around his waist, pulling him half an inch closer.
The Alpha’s chest radiated an almost unnatural amount of heat—a side effect of their newly amplified mate-bond.
It felt like sitting in front of a roaring hearth in the middle of a frozen wasteland.
“Stop shivering, little spell-cutter,” Kaelen’s deep voice rumbled right against Soren’s ear, easily cutting through the screaming wind.
“My horse isn’t going to throw you off.”
“I’m not afraid of falling,” Soren muttered back, his breath swirling in the freezing air.
“I’m thinking.”
“Bad habit,” Kaelen replied smoothly.
His thumb pressed through the heavy fabric of the cloak, lightly resting over Soren’s hipbone.
“You think too much.
It’s why your shoulders are perpetually locked up and stiff.”
“My shoulders are locked up because I am currently chained to a stubborn Alpha, riding blind into a snowstorm, headed toward a fortress surrounded by executioners.” Soren turned his head just enough to glare up at Kaelen’s towering sharp profile.
“Forgive me if I can’t relax.”
Kaelen didn’t look down at him, but the corner of his mouth twitched upward into a faint smirk.
“They aren’t going to touch you, Soren.”
“You can’t guarantee that, Kaelen!
Lord Lucian brought a full group of Enforcers.
If they invade the Citadel—”
“I said,” Kaelen interrupted, his voice dropping into a low, lethal tone, his hands holding his small waist even tightened a bit more and the horse prick its ears, as if listening to their conversation.
“they aren’t going to touch you.
I’d burn the Great Hall to the ground before I let a Council Enforcer put a hand on my spell-cutter.”
My spell-cutter.
The words hung in the air, heavy and dangerous.
Soren’s heart gave a sudden, traitorous thud against his ribs.
He hated how easily Kaelen said things like that, and He hated even more how his own soul reacted to it with a quiet, blooming warmth that had nothing to do with the magic potion they had drunk in the cave.
Don’t get used to this, he just teases for fun.
Soren warned himself fiercely, closing his eyes against the sting of the snow.
He’s protecting you because you hold the key to breaking his curse.
Nothing more.
Yet, as the wind blew harder, Soren unconsciously leaned back a fraction deeper into Kaelen’s hold, resting his weight against the Alpha’s solid chest.
Kaelen didn’t say a word.
He simply shifted his body to block the worst of the freezing gale, wrapping his cloak tighter around Soren’s small frame.
Two hours later, the towering black stone rough peaks of Blackthorn Citadel rose out of the white fog like a sleeping dragon, while Kaelen pulled the warhorse to a halt at the edge of the pine forest, high above the main valley.
Soren pushed the fur hood back from his face, his bright blue eyes narrowing as he looked down at the fortress below. This chapter is updated first at g.com.
The Citadel was completely locked down.
Huge iron gates were shut tight, and bright golden light from torch fires illuminated dozens of elite Enforcer banners fluttering wildly in the storm.
“They’ve set up camp right at the front courtyard,” Soren whispered, his sharp eyes picking out the dark figures patrolling the perimeter.
“Fifty heavily armed warriors.
At least ten high-ranking spell-binders among them.”
“Lucian isn’t taking any chances,” Kaelen said, leaning forward in the saddle so his chest pressed against Soren’s back.
His golden wolf eyes glowed dimly in the night as he scanned the defense lines.
“He likely wants a public trial and If he catches you inside my quarters, he has all the political leverage he needs to declare me unfit to rule.”
“So how do we get inside?” Soren asked, shifting slightly to look at him.
“The main gates are completely blocked.”
Kaelen’s hand moved from Soren’s waist up to the back of his neck, his warm fingers gently resting against Soren’s hairline.
The casual, possessive contact sent a quick spark of heat straight down Soren’s spine, making his throat go dry.
“We don’t use the main gates,” Kaelen murmured softly, his gaze dropping to Soren’s lips for a split second before rising back to his eyes.
“We use the old water tunnels under the eastern cliff.
Only the Alpha bloodline knows the entry runes.”
“The water tunnels?” Soren frowned.
“Those flood during winter storms.”
“Which is exactly why Lucian’s guards aren’t watching them,” Kaelen replied.
He dismounted the horse in one smooth, powerful motion, turning around to reach up for Soren.
Instead of letting Soren climb down on his own, Kaelen placed his large hands directly on Soren’s waist and lifted him effortlessly out of the saddle, setting him down gently on the snow-covered ground.
For a second, Kaelen didn’t pull his hands away.
They stayed standing chest-to-chest in the deep snow, the crimson chain between their wrists humming with a soft, pink light.
Soren stared up at him, his breath catching as he felt the intense, quiet pull between them.
The air felt charged, thick with unspoken thoughts.
“Can you walk?” Kaelen asked softly, his golden eyes searching Soren’s face.
“Or do I need to carry you down the cliff?”
Soren snapped out of his trance, quickly stepping back and slapping Kaelen’s hands away from his waist.
“I have legs, Alpha.
Lead the way.”
Kaelen let out a quiet chuckle, a dark, amused sound, before turning toward the shadow of the eastern cliffs.
The entrance to the underground water tunnels was hidden behind a frozen waterfall at the base of the pass.
Kaelen pressed his bleeding palm against a flat, unmarked rock face, channeling a brief pulse of his Alpha power.
With a heavy, grinding sound, the stone wall slid open, revealing a narrow, pitch-black passage that smelled of old water and damp moss.
“Stay close,” Kaelen warned, stepping into the dark tunnel first.
“We’re literally chained together, Kaelen,” Soren muttered, following right behind him.
“I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.”
“Good,” Kaelen said flatly, his hand blindly reaching back in the dark to wrap his fingers firmly around Soren’s hand.
Soren tried to pull back out of reflex, but Kaelen’s grip was firm while their fingers intertwined tightly.
A calloused palm against smooth skin, which sent a wave of electric warmth straight up Soren’s arm.
Soren bit his lip, swallowing the protest in his throat.
He let Kaelen pull him through the winding, narrow passages.
They climbed in silence for nearly twenty minutes, going higher and higher into the mountain core, until the damp stone give way to polished granite walls and fine wooden beams.
They had reached the hidden passages built within the outer walls of the Alpha’s private estate.
Kaelen stopped in front of a heavy wooden panel, pressing his ear against the wood.
He listened carefully for several long seconds.
Silence filled the air inside the private quarters.
They stepped out from behind a large, floor-to-ceiling bookshelf filled with ancient leather-bound strategy books.
The private bedroom was dark, lit only by the dying embers of the stone fireplace.
The air smelled strongly of cedarwood, leather, and Kaelen’s distinct Alpha aura.
Soren let out a long, ragged breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
He pulled his hand out of Kaelen’s grip, stepping toward the center of the room to stretch his stiff limbs.
“We made it,” Soren whispered, turning back to face the Alpha.
“For now,” Kaelen said, his face darkening as he walked over to the heavy wooden door leading out to the main hallway.
He locked the heavy iron deadbolt and drew a dark suppression rune over the frame with his dagger.
“Lucian will demand a full search of the inner Citadel by sunrise.
My guards can only delay him for so long.”
Soren looked around the spacious, dim room.
“If they search this room, where am I supposed to go?”
Kaelen walked back toward him, his heavy boots making no sound against the thick fur rugs.
He stopped right in front of Soren, taking Soren’s chin between his thumb and forefinger, forcing Soren to look up at him.
“You’re going to stay right behind that bookshelf,” Kaelen said quietly, his golden eyes burning with an intense, fierce light.
“There is a hidden alcove built into the stone structure.
It’s completely shielded from magic detectors.”
“Kaelen—”
“Listen to me, Soren,” Kaelen interrupted, his tone so low and serious it made Soren’s breath hitch.
“Tomorrow morning, I am going down to that Great Hall alone.
I will handle Lucian.
I will handle the Council.
No matter what you hear through these walls, you do not come out.”
Soren stared at him, feeling a sudden, sharp knot of anxiety tighten in his chest.
“If they push you into a corner—”
“They won’t,” Kaelen said firmly.
His thumb brushed lightly over the soft curve of Soren’s cheekbone, a gentle, uncharacteristic gesture that made Soren’s heart skip a Beat.
“I swore an oath to keep you safe.
I don’t break my word, little spell-cutter.”
Soren’s defenses, built over years of betrayal and isolation, cracked just a little more.
He looked up into Kaelen’s dark, resolute face, realizing with a wave of sheer terror that he trusted this man.
He trusted an Alpha who was supposed to be his enemy.
“Don’t do anything stupid,” Soren rasped out, his voice barely above a whisper and he looked the other way like he doesn’t care.
Kaelen smiled a genuine, warm smile that made his golden eyes crinkle at the edges.
“I make no promises,” Kaelen murmured.
He leaned down, his forehead resting gently against Soren’s for three long, agonizing seconds, letting their shared breath mingle in the quiet room.
The crimson chain between their wrists glowed with a deep, peaceful rose light, bridging the small distance between them as the storm raged outside.
(^~^) Let’s all take a deep breath and admit that the snowstorm ride was intense!
Kaelen saying he’d burn the Great Hall down for Soren?
The possessiveness is getting out of hand and I am here for it!
Do you think Kaelen can outsmart the High Council alone tomorrow, or is Soren going to have to step in?
Drop your theories in the comments!
If you loved this chapter, please add the book to your library and leave a vote—it means the world!
See you in Chapter 11!