The wolves had always believed that when an angel visited, it only meant death, and maybe this time that was true, because the only way I was going to be able to claim my right…
To lead my people…
Was to kill the one I’d left in charge.
My own flesh and blood.
My father.
SERENITY
I was dumbfounded.
Stunned.
We walked hand in hand down black marble stairs as the room opened up into a larger room where an actual throne made out of black marble sat in the middle of the floor. The air smelled like dirt and life. I shivered as Mason pulled me closer.
For some reason, I’d been thinking that we were going to the castle I’d seen in the vision, or maybe to a small village.
Never in my wildest imagination had I thought we would be stepping into pure royalty.
Wolf guards lined the walls as we made our descent, and with each step we took, they bowed out of respect for who Mason was.
How was it possible that I’d had it so wrong? That any immortal was this clueless to the power the wolves held, the responsibility.
Suddenly my chest hurt, because if Mason turned away from this— His grief… it must have been so great, life-altering, destroying…
To walk away from everything.
And have nothing. On purpose.
Because of a choice.
A broken heart.
“I dinna like that face,” Mason whispered in my ear, his Scottish burr tickling my skin. I wanted to point out how he sounded more at home and looked it in this place, but I didn’t want to scare him off before he had to do what he had to do.
And because he still left me in the dark and closed that tether between us out of respect, I let him lead me without knowing exactly what we were walking into.
The throne came closer into our view. It stretched from floor to ceiling, glistening with power, glory, as if it had been dropped from the heavens itself.
Cassius leaned over and whispered, “A gift from The Creator, for the protector of the very earth he created. It was formed out of the rock, and it remains without blemish to honor him until the Heavens meet the earth again.”
I gulped.
More warriors gathered around us, their golden shields held by their feet, spears in their right hands, and masks in the shape of wolves over their human faces.
The sound of thunder rolled through the room.
And then, someone walked from behind the throne and sat.
The man from my vision. The man with dark hair and dark eyes.
At least seven feet tall with muscles surrounding his body.
He was wearing the same armor as the guards, only he had no mask. His expression was more of an angry grimace, as if he was just waiting for the perfect time to attack.
His eyes took in Mason with disdain and then turned to me.