The moment followed with silence as none of them utter a single word. Ember had lots of questions to ask but Evander wasn't ready to talk , so she sat quietly waiting for what fate holds for her.
EVANDER POV
The gates of the Shadow Citadel didn't creak; they groaned like a dying man.
I didn't wait for the stable boys. I kept Ember tucked against my chest, her weight so slight it made my jaw ache with a strange, protective fury. The silence in my head was still there—the first time in years I wasn't listening to the sound of my own mind splintering—but as we crossed the threshold of the main hall, the cold air of the fortress hit us.
My home felt like a place built for ghosts, not people—cold stone and memories I never asked for.
"Put me down," Ember whispered. Her voice was thin, like a thread about to snap.
I didn't. I couldn't. The moment there was an inch of air between our skin, the black veins on my neck began to itch. I could feel the madness standing at the door, waiting for me to let go of her so it could finish what it started.
"Not yet," I rasped.
"Look at this," a voice drawled from the top of the grand staircase.
"The King returns with a piece of swamp trash. Is this what the Silver Moon considers a princess these days, Evander? Or did you just pick up a new kitchen maid to replace the ones you scared off?"
I stopped, my boots clicking sharply on the stone. My half-brother, Cassian, stood there, his silk robes shimmering in the torchlight. He looked healthy. He looked fed. He looked like a man who didn't have a clock ticking in his blood.
Beside him stood Julian, our youngest brother. He didn't look at me; he looked at Ember with disgust so plain it made the pulse in my neck thrum.
"Father's crown looks heavy on you today, brother," Julian said, his lip curling. "You're shaking. Is the 'great Alpha' finally rotting from the inside out?"
"The crown stays where it is," I said, my voice dropping into that low, vibrating growl that usually sent servants running. "And the girl is off-limits. If I see either of you within ten feet of her, I'll remind you why our father chose the son of a 'political marriage' over his favorites."
Cassian laughed, but it didn't reach his eyes. "He didn't choose you because he loved you, Evander. He chose you because our mother was a Queen and yours was a contract. You were a business deal. And now, you're a dying business deal."
He leaned over the railing, eyes fixed on the bruises on Ember's face. "She's a mess. If you're going to use her to stay alive, at least wash the mud off. It's embarrassing."
I hissed.
"So you already know who she is?" I asked coldly.
"Come on, brother. I have my eyes everywhere. Let's say a little bird whispered to me," Cassian said mockingly.
"If you paid this much attention to your fighting skills, you would've been a better warrior. Don't you think so, Cassian?" I mocked with a smirk.
"There's no need arguing with a dying man," Julian replied, placing a hand on Cassian's shoulder, pacifying him.
They walked away, their laughter echoing off the high, hollow ceilings. I stood there in the dark hall, the girl in my arms the only thing keeping me from tearing the walls down. My family didn't want a King; they wanted a corpse so they could pick the bones clean.