The world stood still.
No wind.
No breath.
No sound except the distant crackle of magic curling beneath Ysolde's skin.
"Choose," the Crimson Alpha murmured.
His voice wasn't loud—he didn't need volume.
His confidence carried the weight of inevitability, a certainty carved into every syllable.
Kael, broken and bleeding, stared at her with something like fear—but not fear of her.
Fear for her.
"Ysolde," he whispered, voice ragged.
"Don't let him twist this. Look at me. Only at me."
She did.
Kael's silver eyes, bright with pain and something deeper—something raw, something she didn't have a name for yet—held her as if he could anchor her with nothing but his gaze.
Her pulse stuttered.
The Alpha's voice slid into the silence behind her.
"The bond between you is unstable. Temporary. Unclaimed."
A soft hum vibrated the air.
"And bonds mean nothing to the Old Blood. You decide who commands the mountain. Who rises. Who falls."
Her heart slammed against her ribs.
Kael staggered to his feet—barely, leaning heavily on the cliff wall.
"I don't want a throne," he growled. "I don't want power. I want her safe."
The Alpha smirked.
"Funny. You say that, and yet your entire kingdom is built on bloodshed in her name."
Kael flinched.
Ysolde's breath caught.
"What does that mean?"
The Alpha brushed snow from his armor.
"Kael didn't tell you? The kings of the mountain are bound by the Old Blood. When the ritual awakened in you—"
He lifted one finger.
"—Kael became yours."
The bond throbbed—hot, sharp, overwhelming.
Kael's jaw clenched, shame flickering across his face.
"Don't listen to him," he said quickly. "He twists everything."
The Alpha tilted his head.
"Oh? Then tell her yourself, brother. Tell her the truth. Tell her why the bond hurts you. Why it burns her."
Kael's breath hitched.
Silence stretched.
Ysolde swallowed hard.
"Kael… what is he talking about?"
Kael closed his eyes—just for a moment—before forcing them open again.
"Your blood woke something in me," he rasped.
"I wasn't supposed to feel it. The curse kept it dormant. But when you touched me in the ritual— when you stopped the magic—"
His voice cracked.
"It bound me to you."
Her breath caught.
"Bound… how?"
Kael stepped forward, every movement agony.
"Your heartbeat commands mine. Your fear becomes my rage. Your pain becomes my weakness." He swallowed hard.
"And if someone stronger tries to take you—my body breaks."
The Alpha smiled in satisfaction.
"Exactly."
Ysolde's legs felt like ice.
"So," the Alpha said, stepping closer, "make a choice. Take Kael as your king—or choose me."
Kael's entire body tensed.
The Alpha continued softly, almost affectionately:
"Choose me… and I will give you what your blood deserves. Power. Knowledge. A throne older than Kael's entire pack. Wolves will kneel at your feet. Magic will answer your call. You will never be helpless again."
He leaned in, his lips close to her ear.
"Choose Kael… and you stay small. Vulnerable. His weakness. His curse."
Kael's voice broke into a snarl.
"Enough—"
He tried to lunge, but his knees buckled. He collapsed into the snow, coughing blood.
Ysolde instinctively moved toward him—
The Alpha's hand closed around her wrist.
It wasn't painful.
It was worse.
It was gentle.
"Don't waste your choice," he murmured. "You are more than a girl clinging to a dying king."
Kael's head snapped up.
"Let her go."
The Alpha's tone sharpened.
"Or what? You can't stand."
Kael growled, low and dangerous, even through the agony ripping him apart. "Let. Her. Go."
Ysolde tried to pull back—but the Alpha's grip tightened, not enough to hurt, just enough to remind her he could.
"Ysolde," he said softly, "your blood activated for a reason. You belong to something larger than him."
Her stomach twisted.
Kael forced himself up again—shaking, bleeding, barely breathing.
"Don't touch her," he repeated, voice breaking with feral desperation. "She's not yours."
The Alpha smirked.
"But she could be."
Ysolde yanked her arm free and stumbled backward, placing herself between the two brothers.
"No one owns me," she said, voice trembling.
"Not a throne, not a bloodline, not a king—no one."
The air tightened.
The Alpha's smile faded.
Kael stared at her like she'd just set the mountain on fire.
A slow wind rippled through the snow.
Then the Alpha exhaled a disappointed sigh.
"I see," he murmured. "You're choosing independence."
His eyes sharpened.
"Unfortunately… that's not an option."
His hand shot toward her—
—and she moved before she thought.
Her magic exploded outward, red lightning crackling through the air.
The Alpha blocked it with a single sweep of his arm, absorbing the blast like it was nothing. Snow evaporated where the magic hit, leaving a circle of steaming, blackened ice.
Ysolde stared in horror.
He shouldn't have been able to do that.
"My dear," the Alpha said, voice calm,
"You can't match me. Not yet."
Kael lunged again despite the agony, forcing his body to obey through sheer will—
The Alpha flicked a wrist.
Kael's body snapped sideways, slamming into the cliff wall with bone-crushing force.
"KAEL!"
Ysolde ran to him—only for a hand to clamp around her throat from behind.
The Alpha didn't squeeze.
He didn't need to.
His touch froze her body like iron.
Kael's vision blurred as he tried—and failed—to stand again.
"Let… her… go…"
The Alpha pulled Ysolde backward, lifting her off the ground by the grip at the base of her skull.
"Ysolde," he murmured, breath warm against her ear—
"you don't have to choose a king."
He pressed his forehead to hers.
"You can be one."
Her blood roared.
Her vision darkened.
The bond screamed.
Kael let out a sound—raw, choked, desperate—as the Alpha began to drag her away.
Ysolde's power surged again—violent, unsteady, frantic.
She reached for Kael.
He reached for her.
Their fingers touched—
And the mountain floor split open beneath them.
A crack.
A howl.
A cavern opening like a mouth.
And they fell—
Ysolde ripped from the Alpha's grip, Kael tumbling beside her—
Both swallowed by darkness.