Chapter 7 - The Grand Duke's Reckoning
The grand hall of the Romanov Citadel was lit by massive iron chandeliers that cast long, swaying shadows across marble floors.
Grand Duke Nicholas stood at the far end of the hall beside a raised dais, his broadsword drawn and gleaming in the firelight. Around him stood twelve of his finest shadow-guards, their eyes glowing with dark, corrupted magic.
"You walk into a tomb, Plantagenet," Nicholas sneered, gripping his sword hilt tightly. "You think because you rescued a broken toy that you have won? The girl is damaged goods. Her mind is a fractured mirror; she will never look at you the same way again."
Cedric didn't reply immediately. He walked slowly across the marble floor, his boots clicking rhythmically against the stone. Every step radiated an aura of absolute, crushing dominance that made the shadow-guards take an involuntary step backward.
"You made one fatal mistake, Nicholas," Cedric’s voice rumbled low and deadly in the cavernous hall.
"And what is that?" Nicholas scoffed.
"You thought her mind was her strength," Cedric said, his golden eyes narrowing into twin slits of pure fire. "You thought by breaking her memories, you broke her spirit. But you forgot something fundamental about a true fated mate."
Cedric raised his hand, the ancient runes on the silver gauntlet flaring with blinding white light.
"A true bond doesn't live in the memory, Nicholas," Cedric whispered. "It lives in the soul. And no amount of your dark magic could ever cut that away."
Nicholas snarled, waving his hand toward his guards. "Kill him! Tear him apart!"
The twelve shadow-guards charged simultaneously, screaming as they lunged forward with dark blades raised.
Cedric didn't flinch. He moved with terrifying, blinding speed. The battle lasted less than thirty seconds. Silver flashed, blood sprayed across the pristine marble walls, and heavy thuds echoed as the elite guards were systematically dismantled, their bodies crashing to the floor like felled timber.
Nicholas’s face drained of all color. He backed away until his spine hit the edge of the dais, his hands trembling as he raised his sword. "Stay back—I am a royal Alpha—you cannot—"
Cedric closed the distance in a single heartbeat. He grabbed Nicholas by the throat with his bare hand, lifting the Grand Duke completely off his feet and slamming him hard against the stone pillar behind the dais.
Nicholas choked, clawing frantically at Cedric’s iron grip, his legs kicking uselessly in the air.
"You wanted my throne," Cedric growled, his face inches from the terrified Duke's. "You wanted my kingdom. But you took my queen."
"P-please..." Nicholas choked out, his eyes bulging. "Mercy..."
May you like
"Mercy died five years ago in the Bavarian Alps," Cedric said coldly.
With a sickening crunch, Cedric crushed the Duke’s windpipe, then tossed his limp body aside like a discarded rag. The Grand Duke of Russia hit the marble floor and did not move again.
