The chains were made of silver.
They burned against Lucien Vale's skin, but he did not scream.
Vampires did not scream.
He knelt in the center of Silverwood's execution court, blood sliding slowly from his temple and staining the marble beneath him. Wolves circled him in silence, golden eyes glowing beneath the full moon.
And standing before him
Was the woman who once swore she would never betray him.
Kaelara Mooncrest.
Future Alpha.
His mate.
His ruin.
Her fingers trembled around the ceremonial blade the same blade they had touched the night everything began.
"Renounce him," an Elder demanded behind her. "Or die with him."
The wolves howled.
Lucien lifted his head.
Even chained.
Even bleeding.
Even condemned.
He smiled.
Dark. Certain. Possessive.
"Careful, little wolf," he murmured softly, just for her. "You know I would burn this kingdom before I let them take you from me."
Her breath faltered.
Because he would.
That was the problem.
The execution bell rang.
Kaelara stepped forward.
The blade hovered over his heart.
For one devastating second
He leaned into it.
And the moon above turned red.
Three months earlier.