SERA'S POV
The fight explodes in my chambers with brutal speed.
Kael moves like a force of nature—grabbing the first assassin by the throat and slamming him into the wall so hard the stone cracks. The assassin's neck snaps. He drops, dead before he hits the floor.
Damon becomes a shadow, appearing behind the second assassin before the man can blink. A knife flashes. Blood sprays. The assassin collapses, choking on his own death.
Asher catches the third assassin's blade with his bare hand, twists, and drives it back into its owner's chest. The assassin gasps once and goes still.
Three dead in thirty seconds.
I stand frozen, dagger in hand, watching the three princes who rejected me fight like demons to protect me.
They're breathing hard, covered in blood that isn't theirs, positioned in a protective triangle around me like it's instinct.
"You didn't need to do that," I say quietly.
Kael turns to face me, his winter-storm eyes fierce. "Yes. We did."
Before I can respond, footsteps thunder in the hallway. My door bursts open and Lyra charges in with ten of my Shadowfang guards, weapons drawn.
She takes in the scene—three dead assassins, three blood-covered princes, and me standing unharmed in the center.
"My Queen, are you hurt?"
"I'm fine." I force my voice steady. "These three... helped."
Lyra's eyes narrow with suspicion as she glares at Kael, Damon, and Asher. "How convenient that they were here when assassins attacked."
"We didn't send them," Damon says flatly. "We killed them."
"So you say."
"Lyra," I interrupt before this turns into a fight. "Stand down. They're telling the truth."
My beta doesn't look happy, but she lowers her weapon. "There are more assassins in the building. At least a dozen, maybe more. We need to move you to a secure location immediately."
Before I can agree, all three princes speak at once.
"The Northern wing," Kael says. "My territory here. No one gets through my guards."
"The Shadow Court suite," Damon counters. "My security is better."
"The Western barracks," Asher adds. "Surrounded by my warriors."
They're competing. Fighting over who gets to protect me.
Part of me wants to laugh at the absurdity. The other part—the part that remembers being rejected and abandoned—wants to scream at them all.
"Enough," I snap. My Alpha Prime power flares, making them all take a step back. "I don't need any of you to—"
An explosion from the floor below rocks the building. Screams echo through the halls.
Lyra curses. "They're not just targeting you. They're attacking the entire Summit."
"Morgana," I breathe. "She's using the chaos to eliminate threats."
Another explosion. Closer this time.
Kael's voice cuts through the panic. "We don't have time to argue. My wing is closest and most defensible. Move. Now."
I hate that he's right.
"Fine," I snarl. "Kael's wing. But you three are NOT staying with me."
"We'll see about that," Damon mutters.
We run.
Kael leads, cutting down two more assassins who try to ambush us in the corridor. Damon and Asher guard our flanks while Lyra and my guards surround me. We move as a unit through the chaos—wolves fighting everywhere, fires breaking out, screams and howls filling the air.
The Summit has become a war zone.
We reach Kael's Northern wing and his guards immediately seal the doors behind us. The walls here are thick stone, defensible. His personal guards—fifty of the North's best warriors—form a perimeter.
"Sweep every room," Kael orders. "No one gets in. No one."
His guards move with military precision.
Inside the main chamber, I finally allow myself to breathe. My hands are shaking—not from fear, but from adrenaline and rage.
Lyra appears at my side, checking me for injuries I don't have. "My Queen, are you certain you're unharmed?"
"I'm fine."
"This was a coordinated attack. Professional. Expensive." She glares at the three princes. "And they just happened to be in your chambers when it started."
"We warned her this would happen," Kael says coldly. "We tried to protect her."
"How noble," Lyra sneers. "Three princes protecting the omega they publicly destroyed. Forgive me if I don't trust your sudden devotion."
"Lyra." My voice is sharp. "Check the perimeter. Make sure we're secure."
She doesn't want to leave me alone with them, but she obeys. My guards follow her, giving us privacy I don't want.
The door closes.
Silence falls.
I'm alone with Kael, Damon, and Asher for the second time tonight, and the mate bond tension is suffocating. My wolf Lunara is howling inside my mind, begging me to accept them, to let the damaged bonds heal.
I ignore her and face the three men who destroyed me.
"Thank you for the warning," I say stiffly. "And for... fighting. But this doesn't change anything between us."
"We know," Asher says quietly.
"Good." I turn away. "Then you can leave—"
"There's more," Kael interrupts. "Information you need before you face Viktor tomorrow."
I freeze. "What information?"
Damon steps forward, pulling a scroll from inside his coat. "Viktor isn't just planning to kill you in the arena. He's working with Morgana on something bigger."
"What?"
"We don't know yet. But my spies intercepted a message." He unrolls the scroll. "Viktor referred to 'the final solution to the Alpha Prime problem.' And he mentioned your father specifically."
My blood turns to ice. "My father is dead."
"Is he?" Damon's eyes are serious. "Because the message was dated three days ago. And it said, 'Once the girl is dead, we can finally eliminate the other one.'"
The world tilts.
"You're lying."
"I wish I was." Damon hands me the scroll. "Read it yourself."
My hands shake as I take it. The words swim before my eyes, but I force myself to focus.
It's real. Viktor's handwriting. References to "the other Alpha Prime" and "keeping him contained until the daughter is eliminated."
Him.
My father.
"This is impossible," I whisper. "I saw his body. After the execution. I—"
"You saw what Morgana wanted you to see," Kael says gently. "A body double. Illusion magic. She's capable of both."
"Why would she fake his death?"
"Because," Asher says quietly, "if he's alive, she can use him as leverage against you. Or torture him for information about Alpha Prime bloodlines. Or—"
"Or keep him prisoner for thirty years while hunting his daughter," I finish, my voice hollow.
If my father is alive...
If he's been suffering while I thought he was dead...
Rage explodes through me. Pure, white-hot fury that makes my Alpha Prime power flare so bright the three princes actually stumble backward.
"Where is he?" I demand. "If Viktor knows, where is my father being held?"
"We don't know," Damon admits. "But Viktor does. Which means—"
"I can't kill him tomorrow," I realize. "I need him alive. I need to make him talk."
Kael nods. "Which makes the fight exponentially more dangerous. You'll have to defeat him without killing him, while he's trying to murder you with poison and illegal magic."
"I don't care. If he knows where my father is—"
A knock on the door interrupts me.
One of Kael's guards enters, his face pale. "My lord, urgent message from the Summit organizers."
"What is it?"
"The Combat Trials have been moved up. Due to the attack tonight, they're starting at dawn instead of midday." The guard swallows hard. "Queen Ashwood fights in four hours."
Four hours.
Four hours to prepare for a fight where I have to defeat a killer without killing him, extract information about my potentially-still-alive father, and survive assassination attempts from a dozen different directions.
"Perfect," I mutter.
The guard isn't finished. "There's more, my Queen. The fight location has been changed to the Blood Arena. And... the rules have been altered."
Dread pools in my stomach. "Altered how?"
"It's now a fight to the death. No surrender allowed. No mercy permitted." The guard's voice shakes. "And High Queen Morgana herself will be officiating. She says any violation of the new rules—including refusing to kill your opponent—will result in immediate execution of both fighters."
The trap snaps shut around me.
Kill Viktor and lose my only lead to my father.
Refuse to kill him and die myself.
Kael's hand clenches into a fist. "Morgana changed the rules specifically to corner you."
"She's giving you an impossible choice," Damon adds darkly.
Asher steps closer, his face anguished. "Let us help. There has to be a way—"
"There isn't." My voice is cold, accepting. "This is exactly what Morgana wanted. Me trapped with no good options."
I walk to the window, staring out at the pre-dawn darkness.
Four hours until I step into an arena designed to kill me.
Four hours to figure out how to win an unwinnable fight.
Four hours to decide if revenge matters more than the truth.
Behind me, Kael speaks quietly. "We won't let you face this alone."
"You don't have a choice. It's my fight."
"Then we'll be in the crowd," Asher says. "Watching. Waiting. Ready to intervene if—"
"If you interfere, Morgana will execute us both," I remind him. "Stay out of it."
Silence falls.
Then Damon's voice, soft and deadly: "What if there's a way to save your father AND win the fight?"
I turn. "What are you talking about?"
His eyes gleam with dangerous intelligence. "What if Viktor isn't the only one who knows where your father is hidden?"
"Who else would—"
The door explodes inward.
Not assassins this time.
High Queen Morgana herself stands in the doorway, surrounded by fifty royal guards, her eyes glowing with malicious triumph.
"Sera Ashwood," she announces. "You're under arrest for conspiracy to commit treason. Your trial begins now."