Night fell over Vaelcryss, bringing heavier snow than usual. Tomorrow was the great day. The day when two regions would unite, and sacred vows would be spoken before the Northern Gods.In his spacious chamber, Alaric stood gazing out the window. His mind churned, yet for the first time in days, his heart felt light. Theodore, the threat, had been identified. He felt in control. He believed that tomorrow he would not only save his people through this alliance, but also rescue a poor girl from the grip of her cruel brother.Alaric had just been about to snuff out the candle when a soft knock sounded at his door.Tok. Tok.Alaric frowned. Who would dare disturb a groom on the sacred night before the wedding. There should be no unfinished business.He opened the heavy wooden door. There stood a figure that shattered all his vigilance in an instant.“Hi,” Rosieta greeted with an adorable wide grin.She stood in the dim corridor, wearing a long nightgown layered with a thick shawl, yet stil

Alaric’s world shattered, collapsing along with the fallen body of the North’s hero. Upon the sacred altar that was meant to witness his vow of love, Alaric instead witnessed hell. His ruby eyes widened, recording every brutal second. His father, Lord Isolde, the undefeated lion who had conquered mountain beasts, now lay in a pool of blood with a hole through his chest. And his mother… Lady Ameera, who only minutes ago had lovingly adjusted his collar, now lay lifeless, her head severed by a Southern blade. Alaric’s heart did not merely break. It felt crushed, ripped from his chest, and trampled. Pain, suffocation, and nausea struck him at once. His knees weakened. The metallic stench of fresh blood flooded his senses, soaking into the once-white carpet. Mother… Father… He was not even given time to grieve. A blade flashed toward his face. Survival instinct took over. Alaric drew his sword, parried the strike with a shower of sparks, and in one lethal motion severed the soldier’s