Chapter 191

Chapter 191: Chapter 191

Drake’s pov

The vial of amber glass felt dense in my palm, its surface slick with the lingering, bitter trace of nightshade-root extract.

I didn’t call the guards. I didn’t send for my elite council. I walked through the grand corridors of the east wing alone, my boots striking the dark marble floorboards in slow, deliberate thuds.

The air around my body was so cold that moisture frost-bloomed along the wood paneling as I passed, the pureblood static in my marrow humming at a lethal pitch.

I reached the double doors of Julian’s private quarters.

I raised my hand, released a concentrated pulse of my pureblood aura, and shattered the deadbolts straight out of their iron casings with a deafening CRACK.

The doors swung inward with force, slamming against the stone walls.

Julian jumped up from his armchair near the hearth, a crystal glass of blood-wine slipping from his fingers and shattering across the rug. His face was pale, his silver-tinted eyes wide with panic as he took in the sight of me standing in his doorway. The reddened imprint of my hand was still visible across his jaw.

"Drake!" Julian gasped, his voice cracking as he took an instinctual step backward toward the fireplace. "What... what is the meaning of this? You can’t just break into my—"

I closed the distance between us in a fraction of a second.

Before he could draw a single breath of magic, my hand shot forward, my fingers locking around his pale throat with crushing force. I lifted his frame off the carpet, pinning his back flat against the cold stone mantelpiece.

Julian choked, his legs kicking wildly in the air, his hands scrambling frantically to pry my fingers off his neck. His silver eyes flared, wide and terrified, as he looked down into my face.

"I warned you," I whispered.

My voice didn’t boom. It was a flat, freezing whisper that cut straight through the roaring fire behind him.

"Drake... please..." Julian rasped out, his oxygen cutting off, his skin turning a sickly shade of grey. "I didn’t... I don’t know what—"

With my free hand, I raised the amber vial of Dr. Star’s vitality tonic, holding it an inch from his eyes.

"Nightshade," I growled low in my chest, the deep vibration rattling his bones. "Distilled with dark blood-sorcery. Formulated to trigger a miscarriage."

Julian’s breath hitched, a flicker of pure horror darting across his eyes as he realized he had been caught red-handed. The lie died in his throat before he could even try to speak it.

"You thought you were clever," I purred, my grip tightening until the cartilage in his neck groaned under the pressure. "You thought if you slipped poison into his glass, I would believe his body gave out. You thought you could erase my blood from this world and crawl back into my bed."

"Drake... I did it for us!" Julian choked out, tears of desperate agony spilling over his lashes as his nails dug uselessly into my wrist. "He’s a traitor! He’s a slur who ruined your life! He doesn’t deserve your child! He doesn’t deserve you!"

"He carries my mark," I replied smoothly, my face an unreadable wall of carved stone. "And you are crossing lines you cannot cross."

I shoved him down onto his knees, unclenching my fingers just enough to let him collapse onto the rug, gasping violently for air, clutching his bruised throat with trembling hands.

I stood over him, looking down at his shivering frame with cold disgust.

"I swore I would snap your neck," I said, my crimson eyes burning in the dim light of the hearth. "And every instinct in my blood is telling me to tear your head from your shoulders right now."

Julian looked up at me, his chest heaving, his mouth open in silent terror as he waited for the blow.

"However... your family’s seat on the High Council and your knowledge of the northern borders make you too valuable to execute or discard," I continued, my tone dropping into a level register that left zero room for appeal.

I lowered my arm, looking down at him as he shivered on the floor.

"You are stripped of your duties, your access to the domain grounds, and your freedom," I declared. "You will not step foot outside these quarters. The guards will seal your door, and if you attempt to leave or contact the west wing... I will lock you in the subterranean iron cells below."

Julian’s eyes widened in shock. "Drake, no! You’re locking me in my rooms?!"

"You wanted a cage in this house," I said coldly, turning toward the doorway as four armed guards stepped into the room to take up position at his threshold. "Now you have one. Stay inside, Julian, before I change my mind."

Julian wept, clutching his bruised throat as the heavy doors were pulled shut, the locks clicking into place with a sharp thunk.

I walked straight back toward the west wing to face the wolf I had locked in the dark.

Lysander’s pov

My mother and I stood near the center of the room, watching the threshold with tense vigilance.

The iron door swung open with a solid thunk.

Drake stepped into the room. He was alone. The dark coat draped over his shoulders carried the faint, bitter scent of nightshade and the sharp tang of pureblood magic. His face was pale, his jaw set in a hard line, his eyes locking straight onto mine.

My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird.

My mother took a half-step forward, shielding me with her shoulder, but I gently laid my hand on her arm, stepping out from behind her. I remembered her fierce words from earlier, the bold strategy she had outlined in the dark, and forced my chin up, refusing to shrink backward.

"It is done," Drake said, his low voice cutting through the quiet room like a frozen blade. "Julian has been confined to his quarters under heavy guard. He will not be allowed near this wing again."

My mother let out a long breath, her shoulders easing slightly, though her eyes remained sharp as she assessed him.

"And what about us, Drake?" my mother asked firmly, her voice carrying a strong, protective edge. "You’ve locked up your mate. Are you going to keep my son locked in a room like an animal, or are you going to act like the man he gave his heart to?"

Drake didn’t answer her. He kept his eyes locked onto my face, stepping slowly past my mother, stopping three feet from where I stood.

The cold mask he had worn for days flickered for a fraction of a second, revealing the dark, exhausting pain buried beneath his pride. He looked down at my pale face, his gaze lowering to the loose linen tunic draping over my waist, where the faint pulse of life was thrumming in my core.

"Elena," Drake murmured softly, never breaking eye contact with me. "Leave us."

My mother hesitated, looking at me with a sharp, protective flick of her eyebrows.

I looked back at her and gave her a small, firm nod. I was terrified, my skin flushing hot, my pulse racing as I prepared to use the only weapon I had left to shatter the iron wall between us.

My mother bowed her head slightly to Drake, walked past him, and stepped out into the corridor, the iron door clicking shut behind her.

We were alone.

Drake stood near the center of the room, tall and unyielding, backlit by the pale gray light streaming through the barred window. His broad shoulders were squared under his dark jacket, his face a carved mask of ice and pride, his crimson eyes tracking every breath I took with a dark, intense focus.

My pulse thrummed fast against my ribs. My skin flushed hot, a nervous shudder racing down my spine, but I forced my legs to move forward. I remembered my mother’s fierce words ringing in my head: Stop shrinking into yourself... strip away his control.

I didn’t cower. I didn’t step backward into the shadows. I took two slow, deliberate strides toward him, my bare feet silent against the hardwood floorboards.

"Are you going to stand there and stare at me like a stranger, Drake?" I asked softly, my voice dropping into a low, velvet thread that cut right through the cold air.

Drake’s jaw tightened, a sharp muscle ticking along his pale cheekbone. "You should be resting. Dr. Star said your strength was depleted."

"My strength isn’t what’s hurting," I whispered, closing the distance between us until I was standing right in front of him.

The heat radiating off his body was overwhelming, a familiar, intoxicating warmth that made my wolf blood ache. I looked up into his crimson eyes, seeing the exhaustion, the pain, and the fierce, possessive hunger he was trying so desperately to hide behind his cold walls.

I raised my hands slowly, my fingers brushing against the dark fabric of his jacket. Drake stiffened instantly, his breathing hitching, but he didn’t pull away.

"Lysander," Drake warned, his low voice dropping an octave, carrying a dark, dangerous vibration that made my knees feel weak. "Do not do this."