Chapter 5 - The Temple of Echoes
The ancient temple stood on a jagged cliff overlooking the crashing black waves of the northern sea, miles away from the main palace. Its roof had collapsed decades ago, leaving the inner altar exposed to the freezing night wind.
Theron and Maren approached cautiously, moving through the shattered stone archways under the cover of a brewing storm.
In the center of the ruined altar, strapped securely into a small stone cradle, baby Tavian was crying weakly.
Standing beside him, holding a long, silver ceremonial dagger, was Lady Valora. Her silver hair whipped wildly in the wind, and her eyes burned with a fanatical, manic light.
“Step back, Theron!” Valora screeched as the Alpha King and Maren stepped out from the shadows. “One more step, and the boy bleeds!”
Theron froze, his massive frame trembling with barely contained rage. “Let the child go, Valora. This is between you and me.”
“No!” Valora laughed, a high, unstable sound. “It is between the crown and the curse! For thirty years I have preserved the purity of Baldross. I disposed of your father’s weak queens, I cast out the Veorn heretics, and I made sure no cursed omega would ever sit beside you on the throne!”
She pressed the cold tip of the dagger against Tavian’s tiny chest, right over the glowing royal crest.
“And now,” Valora hissed, “this little abomination has brought another Veorn witch straight to our doorstep, awakening the mating bond. If you take her as your mate, Theron, the curse will consume you both. I am saving our kingdom!”
“You are insane,” Maren whispered, stepping past Theron.
“Stay back, monster!” Valora snapped, turning the blade toward Maren. “You caused this! You killed your own mate years ago with your unholy power, and you will die here tonight!”
“I didn't kill Bran,” Maren said, her voice steady, ringing with absolute, powerful clarity over the sound of the wind. “The royal guards of Baldross poisoned him under your orders, Valora, to frame the Veorn and start the purge!”
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Valora’s face twisted in panic. “Lies! Kill them!”
From the shadows behind the pillars, a dozen elite mercenaries lunged forward, brandishing heavy steel swords.
