Conor stood by the window, his gaze cast over the city below, but his thoughts were miles away. Kerrigan was in the next room, discussing the latest developments in the trial with her inner circle. The tension in the air was palpable, and even though Kerrigan had done her best to keep him close, he felt the distance between them growing—not from each other, but from the storm they could both sense approaching.Kerrigan had rejected the King’s proposal of marriage in front of the entire court. It had been bold, even dangerous. But she had done it with grace and poise, refusing to be bound to a man who saw her as little more than a political pawn. Conor had admired her for it, had felt his own heart swell with pride and love as she stood her ground. But it came at a cost. The King’s support, thin as it had been, was now crumbling, and Conor knew that King Ryu Pinion wasn’t a man who accepted defiance lightly.The door behind him creaked open, and Faolan, Kerrigan’s wolf, padded silently

Conor watched Kerrigan closely as they made their way back to their quarters, her steps slower than usual, her shoulders tight with tension.The day’s testimonies had been brutal—Kelan's victims had come forward, one after the other, recounting their pain, their loss, the horror of what Kelan had done to their loved ones.Each word, each tear-streaked face had cut deeper into Kerrigan, and Conor could feel the weight of it pressing down on her.They walked in silence for a while, the echo of their footsteps filling the empty corridor. Kerrigan hadn’t spoken much since the trial had ended for the day, her mind distant, her emotions tightly coiled beneath the surface.Conor could feel her exhaustion, her growing struggle to contain the warlike energy of Abraxas that stirred within her, reacting to the heightened emotions of the trial.As they entered their quarters, Faolan padded in after them, ever watchful. Kerrigan sank into a chair by the hearth, her gaze fixed on the dancing flames

The courtroom buzzed with tension, the weight of the trial pressing down on everyone present. Kerrigan stood at the center, her sharp gaze fixed on the opposing council member as he droned on about technicalities meant to stall the proceedings.She had been at the forefront of this battle for weeks, navigating every twist and turn with relentless determination. But today, something was different. A dull ache throbbed at her temples, and her vision blurred at the edges, a telltale sign that Abraxas’s power was taking its toll.Kerrigan steadied herself, gripping the podium as the council member continued his arguments. Each time she tried to subdue the power within her, the strain grew worse, pulling at her like a heavy anchor dragging her down.Abraxas’s presence was always there, lurking beneath the surface, offering strength but demanding a price. She had known the risks—knew that his power wanted justice, wanted to unleash on these twisted men—but she hadn’t expected its toll to ca

The helicopter descended softly onto the lush grounds of Lokir estate, its blades slicing through the still night air. Conor and Kerrigan disembarked, their nerves taut as they set foot on the ancient land.Lokir, nestled hours north of Golan, was a secluded sanctuary, far from the prying eyes of the capital and the King’s spies who relentlessly watched their every move. Tonight, the estate’s serene, moonlit beauty was both a comfort and a reminder of the importance of what they were about to do.They were greeted by the Duke and Duchess of Targu, whose warm smiles masked the gravity of the night’s ceremony. The Duke, dressed in a dark suit with subtle dragon insignias, offered Conor a firm handshake, while the Duchess embraced Kerrigan warmly.“You made it safely,” the Duke said, his voice thick with relief. “We’ve prepared everything as you requested.”“Thank you,” Conor replied, feeling the weight of his robes, the traditional attire of the Priest of Celia, pressing against his shou

When they returned, the capital had changed. What had once been a city of whispers was now a place of open gossip, where slanderous headlines and false narratives about Conor and Kerrigan spread like wildfire.The Benedicts' smear campaign was relentless, twisting the truth, framing Kerrigan as power-hungry and Conor as a man unworthy of his station. Every news report painted them as the villains, their bond a source of scandal and suspicion.onor could feel the weight of the trial pressing down on all of them. Gregor Benedict and his son Kelan were not only fighting in the courtroom, but they had taken their battle to the streets, using their wealth and influence to sway public opinion.The lies they spun were doing damage, and Conor knew something needed to change before it spiraled out of control.Their short time away had been much needed but now, returning to the cesspit that the trial had become was frustrating to say the least.Kerrigan was doing her best but her nerves were fra