Chapter 202

Chapter 202: Chapter 202

Lysander

The door slammed shut with a deafening thunk, the sound echoing off the bare stone walls of the chamber.

Outside in the corridor, a high-pitched humming flared to life as Gideon activated the outer boundary runes. I could feel the magical grid locking into place, sealing the room in a thick, suffocating wave of pressure that deadened my senses and cut through my connection to the outside world.

The moment the mind compulsion faded, my nervous system snapped back under my control.

I collapsed onto my hands and knees on the cold floorboards, my body shuddering violently as a dry gasp tore from my throat. Pain shot through my head, a blinding, throbbing ache behind my eyes where Gideon’s mental spell had been pinned for hours.

I pushed myself up instantly, ignoring the dizziness swimming in my head. I pressed my right hand over my lower middle, feeling the soft, quiet warmth of my core.

"You’re okay," I whispered into the dark room, my voice trembling as my thumb stroked gently over my linen tunic. "We’re okay."

I turned around, taking in my surroundings with wide, frantic eyes.

The chamber was large, furnished with a wide bed, drapes, and a carved wooden table, but it was a prison all the same. High, narrow lancet windows were set into the thick stone walls, reinforced with thick iron bars that showed only the misty, rain-soaked tops of pine trees in the distance.

I rushed toward the heavy oak door, throwing my weight against the iron handle.

Clank-clank.

It didn’t budge. I raised my fists, slamming my knuckles against the solid wood with all the force my hybrid blood could muster.

"Open this door!" I screamed, my voice raw and hoarse from the cold night air. "Gideon! Open this door right now!"

A quiet chime sounded from the small iron grille built into the upper panel of the door. Gideon’s face appeared behind the narrow metal bars, his pale eyes calm, analytical, and entirely unbothered by my thrashing.

"Save your strength, Lysander," Gideon said softly, his voice carrying through the grille in a smooth, level register. "The door is reinforced with suppression iron. The wards are tied to my blood. You cannot break them, no matter how much you throw yourself against the panels."

"Let me out!" I yelled, my fingers gripping the iron bars of the grille until my knuckles turned white. "Take me back to the estate! Take me back to Drake!"

Gideon let out a slow, pitying sigh, looking at me as if I were a confused child who didn’t understand what was best for him.

"Take you back?" Gideon asked smoothly, raising an eyebrow. "Why would we take you back to a cage? You were a prisoner on that mountain, Lysander. Drake locked you in a room, surrounded you with guards, and inspected your body like a piece of captured territory. We saved you from a monster."

"He isn’t a monster!" I roared back, my jaw tightening in fierce, absolute denial. "He is my mate! You forced me to walk away! You put a spell in my mind and made me look him in the eye while you dragged me into that carriage!"

"I used compulsion because your mind was frayed," Gideon replied calmly, his tone completely flat. "You were suffering from a magical illusion brought on by Drake’s pureblood bond. You thought you wanted to stay, but that was just his influence pulling at your hybrid core. Here, in this fortress, you are safe from his reach."

"Safe?" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, tears of pure rage burning hot behind my eyes. "You kidnapped me! You conspired with Julian to break into his home and drag me out into the storm! You think I’m going to sit in this room and thank you?"

"You will understand in time," Gideon said, stepping back from the grille. "Darius will arrive tomorrow to ensure your safety. Rest now. The servants will bring food and clean clothes."

"I don’t want your food! I want my mate!" I screamed, slamming my palms flat against the wooden door so hard the iron studs rattled. "Take me back to Drake! Drake!"

The metal panel over the grille slid shut with a sharp clack, cutting off my voice and leaving me drowned in the dark stillness of the room.

I backed away from the door, my chest heaving in short, ragged drags of air.

My whole body was shaking with a mixture of raw fury, exhaustion, and terrifying uncertainty. They thought they had broken me. They thought that by putting me in this gilded room and wrapping me in soft blankets, I would quietly surrender and forget the man I loved.

They didn’t know anything about me.

I turned toward the heavy wooden table near the hearth. I grabbed a carved wooden chair, lifted it over my head, and slammed it down against the edge of the stone hearth with a violent CRACK.

The chair shattered into splintered pieces.

I dropped to my knees among the wood fragments, my fingers scrambling through the mess until I found a long, sharp wooden stake. It wasn’t an iron blade, and it wouldn’t break through Gideon’s suppression wards, but it was a weapon.

I stood up, holding the sharp wooden stake firmly in my grip, my dark eyes flashing with a fierce, unyielding fire that no spell could ever put out.

I walked back to the edge of the bed and sat down, staring fixedly at the locked iron door.

Every minute I stayed in this room was a minute Drake spent thinking I had abandoned him on that rainy ridge. I knew how his pride worked. I knew how deeply he was hurting right now, thinking I had chosen to run back to Darius. But I also knew the truth of our bond. I had felt the sharp, protective flare in his heart right before they shoved me into the car.

He knows, I thought, pressing my hand against my core, drawing comfort from the soft, quiet pulse of life within me. He felt me fighting. He knows I didn’t leave him.

I squeezed the wooden stake in my hand until the sharp edge dug into my palm.

When the servants opened that door, or when Darius stepped into this room tomorrow, I wasn’t going to cower in the corner. I was going to fight. I was going to tear through every guard, every lock, and every ward they put in front of me until I made my way back home to Drake.

Julian’s pov

Drake had withdrawn into his cold, silent routines, leaving the domain’s security to the automated ward grid I knew how to skirt.

When I reached the stone steps of Gideon’s secluded border fortress, my damp velvet cloak heavy around my ankles, the guards recognized my silver mark and ushered me inside without a word.

Gideon was waiting in his private study, a grand room lined with dark oak shelves and iron lanterns. He sat behind a wide desk, reviewing a scroll of territorial maps, looking entirely untroubled.

"You move recklessly, Julian," Gideon said softly without looking up from his parchment. "Drake’s scouts are no doubt scanning the borderlands. If you are seen coming to my gates—"

"Drake is staring out his study window, frozen in his own pride," I interrupted, my voice sharp as a blade as I threw back my dark hood. "He believes the fool walked away willingly. He has recalled the boundary patrols and sealed the west wing."

Gideon finally looked up, a calm, analytical smile touching his pale lips. "Then our work is complete. The hybrid is confined here, Darius is satisfied that the bloodline remains beyond the Sovereign’s reach, and you have your place restored at court."

"Complete?" I let out a harsh, bitter laugh, stepping close to the edge of his desk and leaning down until my knuckles pressed white against the polished wood. "You think having him behind your iron doors solves anything? As long as that womb carries Drake’s blood, nothing is complete!"

Gideon’s sharp eyebrows pulled together slightly. "The child is an unborn hybrid, Julian. It poses no threat to us while locked in this vault."

"You do not understand how pureblood magic works!" I hissed, my silver-tinted eyes flaring with desperate, white-hot fury. "Drake’s soul is tethered to that child. The pureblood bond doesn’t care about miles or stone walls. Every day that child grows, its pulse echoes through the marrow in Drake’s bones. It is a beacon, Gideon! Sooner or later, his pride will give way to his blood, and he will track that pulse straight to your gates!"

Gideon went still, his calm demeanor shifting as he weighed my words. He folded his hands over the scroll, his gaze turning cold and calculating. "And what are you suggesting?"

"We terminate it," I declared, my voice dropping into a low, lethal whisper that carried zero hesitation. "We erase the child before it develops any further. Without the child, the pureblood bond snaps like a brittle twig. Lysander becomes just another stray half-breed, and Drake will never have a reason to look across this border again."

Gideon leaned back in his leather chair, his pale eyes narrowing as he studied my face. "Lysander will fight any physical attempt to harm his core. And Darius will not permit us to kill the carrier."

"We don’t need to kill the carrier, and we don’t need blades," I purred, a cruel, triumphant smile carving its way onto my lips as I took a small step closer. "We use dark magic. A blood curse that target’s the unborn core directly. It will look like a natural failure brought on by the stress of his captivity and his unstable behavior"

Gideon remained silent for three long seconds, the soft flickering light of the hearth casting dark shadows across his jawline.

"A curse of that nature requires a dark practitioner," Gideon said softly, his voice dropping into an agreement that sealed our pact. "A witch who operates outside the territorial laws."

"Find one," I commanded softly, my fingers clenching into tight fists within my sleeves. "Find a witch, bring her to this fortress, and end that child before Drake’s blood calls him to my doorstep."