LUXURIA.
I woke up feeling better than I felt when I regained consciousness yesterday.
I had woken to warmth. A steady, familiar heat pressed against my back, the feel of a strong arm draped over my waist, holding me close. The scent of cinnamon and musk surrounded me-Parthe.
For a moment, I simply breathed him in, relishing the security of his embrace. It felt surreal, almost fragile, as if one wrong move would shatter the moment like delicate glass. But this was real. He was real.
A soft clatter had drawn my attention to the bedside table. A tray of steaming food awaited me, the rich aroma wafting through the air. My stomach twisted with the overwhelming realization of how much had changed within the last few hours.
I was here. Safe.
But not everyone had been so fortunate.
My heart ached for Rorden, I must say… The good side of Rorden.
He was my friend and confidant at one of the most crucial points in my life. And I couldn’t take that for granted.
A single tear slipped down my cheek. He had wanted love just as desperately as I had. But he had reached for it in the wrong way, with hands stained in deceit, with a heart twisted by greed and darkness.
Hearing the things he said before he died at the hands of my mate made me cry more. And though I knew Rorden had to be stopped, it didn’t make the loss any easier to bear.
After being fed by Parthe, he personally bathed me, giving me a massage in the bathroom.
I missed all that.
He made slow love to me last night, and my core still tinged with the sweetness of the pleasure.
I missed that, too.
A shiver coursed through me at the memory.
I forced myself to focus, pushing away the warmth curling low in my belly as I walked to the window-side table. My hands trembled slightly as I picked up the worn piece of parchment Sibile had given to me just before my world had turned to chaos.
I nearly lost it.
Thankfully, the maids saw and brought it to Parthe when I was still unconscious as they washed my clothes.
THE CURSE OF HERA.
The words stared back at me in a bold, ancient script.
I read it for the umpteenth time and wondered how this solution was feasible.
Strong arms wrapped around me from behind, pulling me against the firm wall of his chest. I exhaled deeply, allowing myself a moment to sink into him, taking in his scent.
“You’re overthinking again,” Parthe murmured against my ear.
I closed my eyes as his lips brushed the sensitive skin just below it. “How can I not? We don’t even have a vessel for the ritual, Parthe.”
“I told you not to worry about it, Lux. Your curse will be lifted at noon,” he said with the same assurance he’d been speaking with since we read about the cure.
I turned in his arms, searching his face for the answers I knew he would not give me. “But who would be the vessel? I won’t sacrifice someone for this-not even a slave.” I reemphasized.
A slow, knowing smirk curved his lips, but there was something dark beneath it. “I have the perfect vessel,” he said, pressing a lingering kiss to the curve of my throat.
I didn’t know what he was up to, but I just had to believe him. At least until noon, which was about two hours away.
“Still not telling me how you plan on lifting yours?” I asked, watching his expression carefully.
Parthe scoffed, a smirk curling at the edges of his lips, “Why don’t you worry about making sure my pups are okay and leave the rest of the worry to me?” His palm slid over my stomach slowly and lovingly, fingers splaying possessively over the slight swell.
I could swear I felt a kick a tiny spark of life answering his touch even though it was too early for movement, but I swore I felt something.
Parthe had also refused to tell me how he was going to lift his own curse, all at noon today.
I had asked countless times, but he only laughed and told me everything was under control.
If I didn’t trust him with my entire soul, I might have thought-just for a second-that he planned to use me for the ritual. Because who else?
Who else was a Calandus here?
The thought made my stomach coil with unease, but I forced it away. He wouldn’t do that to me.
I could get dizzy thinking about it. I just had to trust him.
His lips found the curve of my neck, pressing a soft, lingering kiss before his teeth grazed my skin, sending a shiver down my spine.
A moan slipped from my lips before I could stop it.
I melted. And he moaned in response, pushing further. But I had to stop.
“Let’s go,” I mumbled, pulling out of his hold before I changed my mind about going to see Sibile and lay in his arms all day.
Parthe’s fingers lingered on my waist for half a second, loosening his grip reluctantly with a groan before he finally let me go.
But the look in his eyes told me he wasn’t done with me yet.
And gods help me, I wasn’t sure I was done with him either.
***
Sibile didn’t look good.
She looked like a ghost of herself-pale, fragile, and fading. The jagged wound on her neck, which was deep and raw, refused to heal, and the edges were dark with creeping veins of poison.
This wasn’t the Sibile I knew… The young, vibrant girl who was brave and daring.
My chest clenched painfully.
She caught the sorrow in my gaze and let out a weak, brittle chuckle. “Don’t look at me with such pity, Luna.”
I blinked back the tears burning my eyes and forced a smile, squeezing her cold hand gently.
“Who says I’m looking at you with pity, Sibile?” My voice trembled, but I held onto what little strength my words were meant to offer, “You are one of the strongest women I know. Look at you…”
My throat tightened. I sniffed hard, fighting the wave of emotion threatening to break me. “Who else would have survived such a wound?” I gestured at the gash on her throat, my fingers trembling.
A wave of sadness flashed across her face, but she masked it quickly.
“I’m just glad you’re finally awake and well,” she rasped, but then she coughed with a harsh, wracking sound that made me flinch.
The wound on her neck strained with the effort, and for a terrifying second, I thought it would split further.
I rubbed slow circles on her chest, hoping to soothe her. “Don’t force yourself to talk,” I murmured. “You’ll say all you want when you recover.” I consoled, but she smiled.
“I won’t make it that long.”
Confusion twisted my face.
My breath hitched.
The air around me stilled. What?
My gaze flipped from her to Parthe, who stood with a neutral expression, with his hands crossed on his chest.
I swallowed hard and looked back at her. “What do you mean?”
Sibile exhaled shakily. “The poison is spreading faster than we hoped.” Her voice was barely above a whisper now, but I could hear the pain laced in every syllable. I could feel it.
A tight knot formed in my chest. No. No, this couldn’t be happening.
“But the healers-” My voice cracked, sounding desperate. “They’ll do everything they can. They’ll find a way, Sibile. They will.”
She shook her head slowly.
No.
“There’s no remedy, Luxuria.” The way she sounded so sure made my stomach drop.
A cold, suffocating kind of fear gripped me. I wasn’t ready to accept it.
She had fought too hard. She had lived through too much to have it end like this.
Sibile took a deep, shuddering breath as if gathering the last of her strength. Then, she lifted her gaze to mine, and there was something solemn, almost resigned, in her eyes.
“That is why I’ve made a decision,” she said.
A strange unease coiled in my gut.
“What decision?” My voice was barely a whisper, but she heard me.
“Luxuria…” she exhaled my name softly, “No one knows this, but I am a direct descendant of Calandus… I am the daughter of Alpha Nelfas.”
The world tilted too slowly at this point, and I didn’t understand what she was saying for a moment.
Wasn’t she Amelia’s great-granddaughter from a different paternal lineage that had absolutely nothing to do with Calandus?
“No,” I breathed, shaking my head, my body rigid. “No, that’s not-”
“It’s true,” she rasped, her fingers tightening around mine. “Alpha Nelfas… he had an affair with one of the maids tending to Amelia in hiding. That woman was my mother, Luxuria. She bore me in secret, and he kept it hidden from the world.”
My lungs squeezed so tight that I forgot how to breathe. The room suddenly felt unbearably small and suffocating.
I didn’t like where this was going.
“And because I am also his daughter,” Sibile continued, “that means I can be used as a vessel for the Alpha’s ritual. Just like you.”
I froze.
The air left my lungs in a painful rush. No.
“I am dying, Luxuria,” she pressed on, her grip on my hand becoming weak, “This poison will take me before nightfall. There’s no saving me. So instead of wasting this-wasting me-let me be the one to break the curse.”
I jerked my hand away like I had been burned.
“Stop it,” I snapped, my voice cracking. “You are not dying, do you hear me? You will survive this, Sibile!”
She only gave me a soft smile.
“There is no surviving this, Lux.”
Tears burned my eyes.
“You expect me to just… to just let you die? To use you?” My voice trembled violently. “I won’t do that. I won’t-”
“You don’t have a choice.” Her voice was so gentle it hurt.
My gaze flickered to Parthe, wondering why he wasn’t saying anything to the silly girl. But he stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his expression totally unreadable.
He already knew.
And he was fine with it?
Killing an innocent girl?
“You… you knew?” I croaked, disbelief bleeding into my tone.
He didn’t even flinch.
“You knew, and you said nothing?” My voice rose, hoarse and shaking.
“There was nothing to say, Lux…” he said smoothly, avoiding my gaze as if this was all just… inevitable.
“What about what you told me?” My voice was barely above a whisper now. “That you wouldn’t have to kill anyone for this ritual?”
Parthe’s lips twitched, “I am not the one killing her, Luxuria,” he said, his tone maddeningly calm. “Rorden already did that.”
A sharp, splintering pain cracked through my chest.
“You-” My throat tightened. I couldn’t even form the words.
A choked sob clawed its way up my throat, but I refused to let it escape. I turned, my vision blurring, my pulse sounding like a wild, erratic drumbeat in my ears. Then, without another word, I bolted out of the chamber.
My heart couldn’t take it.