Ariana braced herself on the broken edge of the stone floor, peering into the darkness below. The glowing blue runes spiraled down ancient steps so narrow they looked like a stairway into a wolf's throat.
Lucian was still sprawled beside her, chest heaving, his hair tangled from when he'd broken her fall. He didn't look worried — he looked annoyingly smug.
"I swear," Ariana muttered, "if you grin at me one more time while I'm dangling over a bottomless pit, I will push you in."
Lucian propped himself up on his elbows, eyes glinting. "Promises, promises."
She glared. "Do you ever shut up?"
"Not when you keep landing on top of me, Thorn."
He sat up and tested the first crumbling step with his boot. The runes pulsed under his weight, illuminating the tunnel with ghostly light.
Ariana's throat felt dry. Old magic, Lyra murmured in her mind. Older than him. Older than us.
"Explain this prophecy again," Ariana demanded as she followed him. Her fingers brushed the runes on the wall — they buzzed under her skin, almost like a heartbeat.
Lucian glanced back at her. "Long version or short?"
"Short."
He smirked. "We're screwed."
They descended deeper, the air growing colder with each step. The stone walls closed in, covered with claw marks and faded bloodstains. Ariana shivered.
"Why would your ancestors build something like this?" she asked. Her voice echoed too loudly in the confined space.
Lucian's jaw tightened. "Old royals were paranoid. They made pacts with death spirits to protect their bloodlines — vaults like this one were used to bury secrets. Or… people."
"People?"
"Traitors. Threats to the crown. They'd lock them down here, let the spirits feed on their rage."
Ariana grimaced. "And you brought me here because…?"
Lucian stopped on the last step, looking back at her. His eyes glowed faintly in the rune-light.
"Because," he said softly, "if there's any chance this vault holds answers about the carrion hounds — or the prophecy about you — we need to see it first."
He didn't say before Kael does, but the unspoken words hung between them.
The stairway opened into a vast cavern. Stalactites hung like fangs from the ceiling, dripping water that pooled around a giant stone sarcophagus in the center. Faded murals covered the walls — wolves with crowns fighting monstrous shadow beasts.
Ariana drifted closer, fingertips grazing the old stone. She could almost hear whispers, like wind through dead leaves.
Lyra's voice curled in her head: This place knows our name.
Lucian prowled around the sarcophagus, his claws out. "Stay close. Vaults like this… they're not empty."
Ariana rolled her eyes. "You really have a gift for comforting words."
A low, mocking voice echoed back from the shadows: "Does she talk this much when you kiss her too, Prince?"
Ariana spun around. A figure stepped out of the gloom — a man, half-shadow, half-bone. His eyes glowed sickly green, and black veins pulsed under his skin like rot.
Lucian's growl rumbled through the cavern. "Alaric."
Ariana's breath caught. "Who—"
"Blood oath wraith," Lucian said tightly. "My father bound him here to guard the crown's last secrets. Guess who forgot to stay dead."
Alaric's grin stretched too wide for his face. "Relax, boy. I won't gut you yet. I came to see the rejected queen for myself."
His gaze raked over Ariana like a caress and a knife at once. "You wear your mate's betrayal like armor. Smart. But you're more than that, aren't you?"
Ariana squared her shoulders. "I don't owe you answers."
"Oh, but you do," Alaric hissed, circling her. "This vault was meant to sleep forever. Yet here you stand — royal blood and rogue heart."
He flicked a claw at Lucian. "And you — the banished Prince who thinks he can rule the dead. Tell me, boy: have you told her why you really need her here?"
Lucian's eyes darkened. "Shut. Up."
Ariana grabbed Lucian's arm. "What's he talking about?"
Lucian didn't look at her — his jaw worked, teeth bared. "Don't listen to him."
Alaric leaned close, his breath like ice on her neck. "You were never just rejected. You were marked — the moon chose you as the Thorn to break the crown. You're his bondmate, yes… but you're also his key."
Ariana recoiled. "Key to what?"
"Life," the wraith purred. "Death. The throne. Without you, he stays a rogue. With you—"
Lucian lunged — claws slashing through Alaric's chest. The wraith laughed, reforming from the shadows.
"Strike me all you want, princeling. You can't kill a ghost of old blood."
"Enough," Ariana snapped, stepping between them. Her wolf snarled inside her, claws itching to shred the wraith's smug smile.
"Tell me what's in that coffin," she demanded.
Alaric bowed mockingly. "A crown. A heart. And a piece of you that you left behind when your mate spat on your bond."
He flicked his fingers — the sarcophagus shuddered, stone grinding on stone. The lid cracked open an inch, leaking mist so cold it stung Ariana's skin.
Lucian grabbed her arm. "Don't look."
But she did. Inside the sarcophagus, half-buried in ice, lay a black crown — its surface crawling with tiny silver runes. Next to it: a heart-shaped crystal, beating with faint red light.
Ariana stumbled back. "Is that…?"
"Your bond mark," Alaric crooned. "The piece your ex-mate rejected. The piece that will either make you his slave… or make you stronger than him."
Lucian's claws dug into her wrist, grounding her. "He wants you to bind it now. If you do it here, you'll be stuck with his mark forever."
Alaric chuckled. "Or free to break him instead."
Ariana's mind spun. Kael's mark. The crown. The prophecy. Lucian's secrets.
Her eyes darted to Lucian. "Why didn't you tell me?"
His growl was low, rough. "Because you don't belong to him. You never did."
Alaric's voice slithered around them. "It's simple, girl. Take the crown, claim the mark, and the world will kneel. Or turn away, stay broken, and keep running until the carrion hounds eat your bones."
The tension crackled between them — Ariana's heart thundered. Lucian's hand cupped her cheek, thumb rough against her jaw.
"You want the truth?" he rasped. "I brought you here because I'd rather burn the throne than see you chained to him again. But this is your choice, Thorn. Yours."
Ariana's pulse skittered as his eyes burned into hers. Lyra's voice purred: Mate. Not by fate — by choice.
She turned back to the open sarcophagus. The crown glowed darkly. The crystal pulsed in time with her heart.
Power.
Revenge.
Freedom.
But what did she want?
Lucian's forehead brushed hers, his breath rough and real. "Whatever you decide, you don't do it alone. Not anymore."
The tension snapped when a deep growl echoed behind the wraith — more carrion hounds, slipping through cracks in the cavern wall.
Alaric spread his arms wide, smirking. "Well, queen. Time to prove if you're worth the prophecy — or just another dead girl in a tomb."
Lucian pushed her behind him, baring his fangs. "Ready for lesson six?"
Ariana's claws slid out, her lips curling in a snarl. "What's that?"
His grin was savage and beautiful all at once. "Bite first. Talk later."