Chapter 29
Jul 4, 2025
The doors to the King’s court exploded open.
A thunderclap echoed through the marble chamber as Cassian stormed in, blood still staining the collar of his armor, hair wild from the ride, eyes sharper than any blade. No page announced him. No horn sounded his name. He didn’t need it. His fury was loud enough.
Gasps rippled through the nobles. Gilded lords and perfumed ladies stumbled back as he strode down the aisle, each step ringing like a war drum. His boots were muddied from the ride. His knuckles bruised. He looked less like a prince and more like a god of vengeance carved from stone and rage.
King Toren rose from his throne, the folds of his sapphire cloak pooling around his boots like ocean tides.
“Prince Cassian,” he said, tone clipped. “I assume this is urgent.”
Cassian didn’t stop walking until he stood at the foot of the dais, his voice cold and steady. “I want the wedding canceled.”
The chamber went still.
Murmurs bubbled from the edges—shocked, scandalized. “He can’t mean it.” “The ceremony’s in three days—” “He’s lost his mind.”
Cassian raised his voice just enough to silence them. “And I want the bond honored.”
Toren’s jaw ticked. “You barge into my court, uninvited, in bloodied armor, to demand the end of a royal match?”
“Yes,” Cassian said without blinking.
“For an Omega?” the King spat. “For a slave girl branded by another Alpha?”
“She’s mine.” Cassian’s voice cracked like thunder. “That bond was forged in blood and fire. You think a wedding vow will erase it?”
“You speak of war, Cassian,” the King warned, descending two steps. “You speak of treason.”
Cassian unsheathed his sword.
The sound silenced the court.
Nobles stopped breathing. Guards placed cautious hands on hilts. Even Toren paused.
The blade gleamed like silver fury in the dawn light.
“I speak,” Cassian said, “for what is mine.”
Toren’s gaze turned venomous. “She returned to Valen willingly. A part of the treaty I signed. You want to tear it all down over one—”
“She was forced,” Cassian growled. “Beaten. Paraded. Branded like livestock. And you stood by.”
“You have no proof.”
“I don’t need it,” Cassian said. “I felt her break. I felt her cry out and no one came. But I’m here now.”
“You risk every alliance you’ve built,” Toren said slowly. “You risk your throne.”
“Then let it burn.” Cassian’s voice was fire and ice. “Let every noble who backed that treaty watch me rip it apart.”
Someone gasped behind him. A courtier muttered, “He’s mad.”
Another whispered, “No. He’s in love.”
Toren’s expression didn’t shift. “And if I refuse?”
Cassian took one step closer. “Then I’ll summon every wolf in the North, every soldier loyal to the Dire bloodline. We’ll paint the mountains red. We’ll set fire to your fields. And when your people cry out for mercy, I’ll remind them who watched an innocent girl get dragged to hell.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” the King whispered.
“I already did,” Cassian replied, and turned.
He didn’t bow. Didn’t wait for dismissal. He simply walked out, each step echoing like a countdown to war. Behind him, stunned nobles parted, staring as he vanished through the gates like a storm leaving ruin in its wake.
Outside, his generals waited in rigid silence. But they had seen that look before—at Hollowmere, when Cassian had lost twenty men and sworn vengeance with his bare hands.
“Orders, Your Highness?” his second-in-command asked quietly.
Cassian stared out toward the city walls. “Burn the banners.”
A shocked silence followed.
“All of them,” he added. “The Dire crest. The royal colors. The peace flag. Burn them.”
“And the alliance sigils?” another asked hesitantly.
Cassian’s voice dropped. “Especially those.”
Within minutes, fire roared to life in the castle courtyard. Black silk and gold thread fed the flames. The Dire wolf insignia twisted into ash. Smoke bled into the sky like a signal—bold and unforgiving.
Cassian stood in the center of it all, face unreadable, eyes glowing with something beyond fury.
Then he turned to the raven keeper.
“No scroll,” he said. “Just the blade seal. Red wax. Black envelope.”
“Destination?”
“Valen’s court,” Cassian answered. “Deliver it to his hand.”
“What message?”
Cassian’s eyes flickered toward the horizon.
“Just one line,” he said, voice low.
“Give her back. Or burn.”
