Chapter 35

Chapter 35: Chapter 35

The extraction point was still miles away when Team Delta finally regrouped.

Killian walked at the back of the formation, his injured arm bound in a makeshift sling. The wolfsbane had been neutralized Proctor Kane had carried emergency supplies, thank the gods, but the healing was slow, and every movement sent a dull throb through his shoulder. He didn’t complain. Complaining meant attention, and attention meant questions he didn’t want to answer.

Aldric’s body had been left behind. There was no time to carry dead weight through a hostile forest. The Proctor had said a few words something about honor and sacrifice and the academy’s eternal gratitude but Killian hadn’t listened. He had been too busy thinking about Thorne.

Draven should have done it by now. The trap was set. The terrain was marked. All he had to do was lead the prince to the right spot and let nature take its course.

But there had been no confirmation. No signal. No way to know if the plan had succeeded or failed.

If Thorne comes back from this mission alive, I don’t know what I’ll do. I don’t know if I can control myself anymore.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Corvin’s face. The way Corvin looked at Thorne. The way Corvin’s voice softened when he spoke the prince’s name. The way Corvin had leaned close in the courtyard and whispered something in Soren’s ear something about protecting Thorne, Killian was sure of it.

He doesn’t even know I exist. He’s never looked at me the way he looks at that pathetic excuse for a prince. And if Thorne comes back—

A hand tapped his shoulder.

Killian flinched. Xavier had fallen into step beside him, his easy smile nowhere to be seen.

"You’ve been brooding for an hour," Xavier said quietly. "What’s going on in that head of yours?"

"Nothing."

"That’s a lie. You’re a terrible liar, Drak." Xavier’s eyes were sharp despite his casual tone. "You’ve been different since the mission started. More intense. More reckless. What are you planning?"

"I’m not planning anything."

"Good. Keep it that way." Xavier’s voice dropped, becoming something harder. "Whatever personal vendetta you’re nursing, whatever obsession is eating at you, let it go. We have a job to do. Lord Varek’s orders were clear. We can’t afford to get distracted by personal grudges."

"This isn’t a grudge."

"Then what is it?"

Killian didn’t answer. He stared straight ahead, his jaw tight, his fist clenched at his side.

Xavier studied him for a long moment. Then he sighed. "Fine. Don’t tell me. But if you do something stupid—if you compromise the mission because of your feelings for Eldritch Nikolai won’t protect you. I won’t protect you. Do you understand?"

"I understand."

Xavier nodded once and walked ahead, not waiting for a response.

Killian watched him go. The hatred in his chest was a living thing, coiling and uncoiling like a snake. Xavier didn’t understand. No one understood. They didn’t know what it felt like to want someone so badly it burned, to watch that someone chase after a person who wasn’t worthy of them, to be invisible day after day while some silver-haired fraud stole all the attention.

If Draven failed, I’ll finish the job myself. I don’t care what Nikolai says. I don’t care what Varek wants. Thorne Astrlyn is going to die, and Corvin is finally going to see me.

He kept walking, his injured arm throbbing, his heart full of poison.

They walked in silence for a long while, the fallen tree disappearing behind them as the forest thickened once more. Nyra’s legs had regained some of their strength, though she still felt the hollow ache of exhaustion deep in her bones. Luna was quiet, resting, a warm presence curled somewhere behind her heart. The silver light beneath her skin had dimmed to a faint glow, barely visible even in the shadows of the trees.

She watched Soren’s back as he walked ahead of her, his broad shoulders cutting through the mist, his hand never straying far from his sword. He had told her about Freya. But there was so much more she didn’t know. So much he was still holding back.

"Tell me everything," she said.

He glanced over his shoulder. "Everything?"

"Your parents. Your childhood. Your wolf type. Why even the Proctor is scared to offend you. Your rivalry with Corvin. How you became the Sword Sovereign." She took a breath. "And how you got tangled with Valeria."

The last question hung in the air between them. Soren stopped walking. His back was still to her, his shoulders rigid, his hands still at his sides. When he turned, his expression was unreadable.

"I’ll tell you about Valeria when the time is right," he said. "But not now."

"Why?"

"Because it’s complicated. Because it involves things I’m not ready to talk about." His voice was quiet but firm. "Don’t push it, Nyra."

She opened her mouth to argue the old defiance rising up, the same defiance that had made her stand up to Valeria in her office, that had made her throw punches at Draven, that had made her run into a rogue-infested forest to save a man who had told her to stay away. But something in his expression stopped her. He wasn’t shutting her out. He was asking for time. There was a difference.

She closed her mouth. Nodded.

He turned and started walking again. Then he spoke.

"I started training when I was five years old."

His voice was different now—lower, more measured, the voice of someone recounting a story they had never told before. Nyra hurried to catch up, falling into step beside him.

"I started learning from the moment I could talk and walk. My father believed that a future king should be forged, not born. He hired the best instructors in the empire sword masters, strategists, historians, linguists. By the time I was ten, I could fight better than most grown men. By twelve, I had shifted for the first time. By fourteen, I had killed my first rogue."

He paused, letting the words sink in.

"My parents are the highest ranking nobles in the entire kingdom. Alpha King and Queen Thornridge."

Nyra stopped walking.

"What?"

Soren turned to face her. The corner of his mouth twitched.

"You’re a prince," she said slowly, the words feeling strange in her mouth. "You’re a prince. Your parents are the King and Queen Thornridge. The King and Queen. The rulers of the entire—" She stopped. Pressed her hand to her forehead. "Thornridge. Thornridge. How did I not think of that from the start? The evidence was so obvious. The way everyone defers to you. The way the Proctor speaks to you like you’re his equal. The way—" She looked up at him. "I’ve been sharing a training ground with royalty this entire time and I didn’t know?"

Soren laughed.

It was not the cold, humorless sound she was used to. It was a real laugh—deep and warm and utterly unguarded, the kind of laugh that crinkled the corners of his eyes and made him look years younger. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt, bracing one hand against a tree while Nyra stared at him with a mixture of shock and indignation.

"You wouldn’t have thought of it," he said when he finally caught his breath. "No one has ever seen the hidden prince before. My existence was kept secret from the moment I was born. Only the highest-ranking nobles knew the King had a son. When I came to the academy, my identity was buried even deeper. As far as the world is concerned, the Thornridge heir is a myth."

"But the Proctor knows."

"The Proctor knows because my father entrusted me to him personally. He was given one order: protect me at all costs. That’s why he’s ’scared to offend me,’ as you put it. It’s not fear. It’s duty."

"And Ragnar?"

"Ragnar knows because his father is one of the elders. We grew up together. He’s been my shadow since we were children." Soren’s expression softened. "He’s more than my lieutenant. He’s my brother in every way that matters."

Nyra’s mind was reeling. "And Corvin?"

"Corvin knows because he’s known me since we were young. His father is the royal potions master, directly under my father’s service. He’s also part of the council of elders. Corvin and I..." He paused, choosing his words carefully. "We were friends once. Good friends. Along with Ragnar and another boy."

"Another boy?"

"Roderic. My father’s Beta’s son. The four of us were inseparable when we were young. We trained together. Studied together. Got into trouble together." His voice grew distant. "But everything fell apart."

Nyra was almost afraid to ask. "What happened?"

Soren was quiet for a long moment. The forest seemed to hold its breath around them.