Kael's POV
The Blackstone throne room was silent.
No fire. No banners. No council. No crown.
Just stone walls that remembered better days, and a heavy, bone-deep stillness that settled around Kael like ash after a funeral pyre.
He stood at the center of the dais where once he had ruled, hands clenched, blood still staining the collar of his shirt from the battle the night before.
They had stripped him of everything.
His rank. His title. His rights.
By sunrise, the Council's vote was unanimous. He was no longer Alpha of Blackstone.
Because he had protected her.
Because he had defied them all—for Aria.
And he would do it again.
But it didn't stop the sting.
"You should sit," said Dorian, his oldest friend, now acting Alpha under the Council's emergency rule. "You look like hell."
"I feel worse."
"I tried to stall them."
"I know."
"They would've killed her if you hadn't stepped in."
"I know."
Kael turned to the window, where warriors now stood watch beneath a gray sky still heavy with smoke. "She saved us all last night. Half the castle would've burned if it weren't for her magic."
"And half the Council would rather that than let her stay."
Kael exhaled. "Then they'll burn in the end."
Dorian didn't argue.
---
Aria's POV
The library in the east wing had been untouched for years.
Dust clung to forgotten scrolls. Shelves leaned from centuries of weight. No one came here anymore—not since Kael's mother died. But Aria was drawn to it as if something called her.
And maybe it had.
Her hand hovered over the spine of an old crimson leather tome—no title, no markings. Just a strange symbol carved into the cover.
A circle surrounded by crescent flames.
The same mark she'd seen on her palm the morning after the battle.
She opened the book.
And her world tilted.
"Journal of Liora Vale — Blooddaughter of the Eclipse Lineage."
Her mother.
Alive in ink.
Page after page of warnings, secrets, confessions. About magic born from emotion. About daughters with golden fire in their blood. About the price of love between opposing thrones.
And one passage that froze Aria to the core:
"If my daughter ever finds this book, it means the war is not over. It means he's still out there. And she must never trust the wolves of the Black Council—not even the one she loves."
Aria shut the book.
Her hands shook.
Not even Kael?
No. That couldn't be right.
But the doubt had been planted.
And it was already growing.
---
Later that Night — Kael's POV
He found her in the ruins of the west courtyard.
The moon hung low behind her like a ghost.
"You're bleeding," he said.
"I'm fine."
"You're not."
She turned slowly, eyes unreadable. "They took your crown because of me."
"They took it because they're cowards."
"Still," she whispered, "I'm sorry."
He stepped closer. "You're worth more than a title."
"You say that now," she said. "But what about when the next war comes? What about when your people keep dying for a woman they never chose?"
Kael reached out. "You're not alone in this."
She flinched away. "Aren't I?"
Silence stretched between them.
Then, quieter: "I found my mother's journal."
He froze. "What did it say?"
She looked up. "That I can't trust you."
His chest constricted.
"But I want to," she said. "More than I've ever wanted anything."
He took her face in his hands, rough and tender.
"Then trust me with the truth."
So she told him.
About the mark. About the visions. About her mother's last words.
And as she spoke, Kael's expression shifted—from worry, to fear, to awe.
"Your mother," he murmured, "was one of the last Eclipse-born witches."
"I don't know what that means."
"It means," he said softly, "you're not just a lost heir, Aria. You're a queen waiting to rise."
---
Elsewhere — Unknown POV
"She's stronger than we thought," the voice said.
"She's a threat," said another.
"She's the key," a third whispered.
The three Council members stood in shadow, their faces cloaked, their eyes glowing faintly from the ritual spell that bound their meeting.
"Then we move the plan forward."
"Do we tell the High Warden?"
"No. He answers to us."
"And Kael?"
A pause.
"If he won't fall in line… we make him."
---
Aria's POV — Dawn
The sun rose blood-red over the castle walls.
Aria stood in the ruins of the old temple beyond the courtyard, wind lifting her dark hair, golden light shimmering around her fingertips.
Something ancient moved beneath her skin.
Something dangerous.
She was no longer the frightened girl who arrived weeks ago in chains.
She was a weapon now.
And soon—she would become something more.
But first…
She had to decide what kind of queen she would be.