*ੈw✩‧₊˚༺☆༻r*ੈ✩‧₊˚
The air in the hidden cellar was damp, smelling of salt and rotting wood. Celine was far from the polished marble floors of the Northern Palace. She was bound to a heavy wooden chair, her wrists raw from struggling against coarse hemp ropes. A thick cloth gag was tied tightly across her mouth, stifling the screams that had already turned her throat into a desert of pain.
In the dim candlelight, two massive men stepped forward. They were the "cleanup crew" for Lily, Arion's sister, who had always looked at Celine's burgeoning magical talent with a mixture of envy and greed. Lily didn't want Celine dead; she wanted Celine broken. She believed that a trauma-induced mana flare would allow her to siphon the girl's unique magical signature for her own dark experiments.
As the men approached, laughing at the way Celine's eyes filled with hot, terrified tears, she shook her head weakly. She sobbed behind the gag, her small frame trembling.
"Don't look so sad, little Princess," one of the brutes sneered, leaning in close. "Your Aunt Lily says you have far too much spirit. We're just here to make sure you're... compliant."
He reached out a calloused hand, and Celine flinched, her eyes darting toward the door that wouldn't open. For the first time in her life, her sharp wit couldn't save her. She was alone, and the pain in her heart was far worse than the cold iron of the cellar.
Miles away, the atmosphere in the Southern Palace was no less suffocating. Aiden and Asher had been restricted to a guest wing that felt more like a gilded cage. Queen Seraphina had "graciously" allowed them to stay under the guise of diplomatic courtesy, though the guards at the door suggested otherwise.
Lorcan visited only once to deliver the "rules" of their stay. He stood by the door, his posture stiff and his face a mask of frigid indifference. He didn't look at Aiden's eyes; he looked at the floor, his voice harsh and clipped as he explained that they were to stay within the wing until the engagement ceremony. Every word he spoke felt like a shard of glass in his own throat, but the lie of his "pregnancy" hung between them like a poison.
Once the door slammed shut, the silence in the room was broken by Asher's frantic pacing.
"Aiden, listen to me!" Asher snapped, his voice tight with an underlying tremor. "My heat... the suppressants I took earlier... they're wearing off. I didn't bring any more from the North. We weren't supposed to be here this long!"
Aiden sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. He was still reeling from Lorcan's confession. The idea of Lorcan with someone else—the idea of a child that wasn't his—was tearing his sanity apart. He ignored Asher, staring blankly at the wall.
"Aiden! Stop moping! I'm serious!" Asher continued, his tone turning into an arrogant mockery. "Is this the great Northern Prince? Defeated by a few words from a Southern boy? You look pathetic. Maybe the South was right to get rid of you. You can't even handle a little competition—"
Aiden's eyes snapped toward Asher. A dark, desperate idea began to form. If Lorcan was truly "pregnant" and "in love," he shouldn't care what Aiden did. But if it was a lie—if Lorcan was being forced—then seeing Aiden with someone else would be the only way to break his resolve.
Aiden didn't care about the consequences anymore. He stood up and moved with the speed of a predator. Before Asher could finish his next insult, Aiden grabbed him by the arm and pulled him onto his lap on the settee.
"What are you doing?! Let go of me, you lunatic!" Asher shouted, struggling and twisting. He began to hurl every Northern curse word he knew, his face turning a deep crimson from both anger and the rising heat in his blood.
Aiden didn't answer. He held Asher firmly, his hand moving to the back of Asher's neck. He began to pat Asher's back, a deceptive gesture of comfort that masked his true intent.
"Shut up, Asher," Aiden whispered. "I'm helping us both."
With a sudden, precise movement, Aiden pressed his fingers into the sensitive gland at the base of Asher's skull, simultaneously infusing a heavy, concentrated dose of his own calming Alpha pheromones.
The shock to Asher's system was instantaneous. The "sting" of the mana injection made Asher's eyes roll back. His insults died in his throat, and his body went limp as he passed out, his head falling onto Aiden's shoulder. Aiden adjusted him, making it look like an intimate embrace, while his own scent—Cold Pine and Storm—began to swirl with the sweet, unmistakable pheromones of Asher's beginning heat.
Just as the scent peaked, a shadow flickered past the ornate gap under the door.
Lorcan had been walking toward the gardens, his heart heavy with regret. He had intended to find a way to apologize for his harshness, but as he neared Aiden's room, the air changed.
He caught the scent—the thick, undeniable musk of an Alpha (Aiden) mingling with the sweet, vulnerable heat of another (Asher). It was a combination that told a story of a bond being sealed, of intimacy that Lorcan had dreamt of for six years.
Lorcan's hand gripped the hilt of his ceremonial dagger until his knuckles turned white. He felt a surge of jealousy so sharp it felt like a physical wound. 'He's already replaced me', Lorcan thought, his vision blurring. 'He brought his Northern rival to my home to humiliate me.'
Lorcan didn't open the door. He didn't scream. He simply walked past, his face hardening into a mask of pure, unadulterated hatred. If Aiden wanted to play this game, Lorcan would ensure the engagement went through without a single hitch.
While the drama unfolded in the South, the Northern Palace was in a state of quiet terror. Kenzo was lying in the tea room, his fingers twitching as he tried to find Calix's hand. He was so weak he couldn't even keep his eyes open, yet his instinct was still screaming at him to protect his twin.
He tried to flare his pheromones, to create a barrier of "iron" around Calix, but all that came out was a faint, pathetic whiff of smoke.
"Calix..." Kenzo whispered, his voice a mere rasp.
Calix sat beside him, his black silver hair messy and his eyes wide with fear. He didn't know where Celine was. He didn't know why Aiden was gone. He just knew that for the first time, the "Triple Threat" of the siblings was broken.
