Chapter 41

Celia

The room erupts into a chaos that can only be describes as a rapture, the world inside of the large venue fracturing as people run and scream in every direction. Their bodies are blurs from all around me. They slam into me and knock me down but Ethan, who remains at my side, quickly picks me back up, pulling me into his side.

“What’s going on?!” I yell over the terror filled screams. I clutch to Ethan’s side, trying to get away from the scared bystanders as much as possible.

“I don’t know!” Ethan responds, his head whipping back and forth.

“Princess!” The Duke yells out, quickly approaching us with two Lycan soldiers right behind him. “Please, follow us! We will keep you safe!”

I turn to look at Ethan, who simply nods in response to him. We begin to follow him and find ourselves alongside other Lycan nobles in the party. As soon as I approach with Ethan, they bow their heads before turning to more serious matters.

“We need to keep the princess safe!” One of them cries out.

“It is our top priority!” Another comments.

“We just got her back to us! We can’t lose her all over again!”

Their sudden caution and worries towards me makes me feel both safe and in danger at the same time. While it was just revealed that I am indeed their missing princess, my grandmother and Healer Anderson’s words still ring inside the back of my mind, unable to bring me much peace despite their protection.

Someone will always be trying to come after me. Someone will always be out there in the darkness, wishing desperately to kill me so they can have more power in a life and environment that I did not ask to be a part of.

“Wait,” I turn around, taking in the chaos of the room once again.

It is apocalyptic. A lot of bystanders and guests of Soren and Bianca have left, but Werewolf rogues have made their way inside the building, asserting their dominance over the powerless people of the room.

They push them away, screaming at them, threatening to harm them if they do not bring me forward and present myself to be killed.

It is terrifying to watch. Ethan pulls me behind him, the group of Lycans and I moving as one towards a nearby exit. I can’t help but turn around and look behind me as we walk.

My heart starts to become dizzy, and overwhelming pain — no, an urge — to find Soren taking over my body. My feet start to slow down and drag against the marble floor. I lose my position as the center of the group, not even the soldiers taking the time to double check the people inside the group as they move with such force and determined focus.

“Soren,” I breathe out his name, the fated mate bond taking over my mind and body.

Stormwind and honeysuckle fills my nose, a light hint of musk and sandalwood, scents that I have familiarized and identified with Soren during our contracted relationship, coming into the mix. My vision is slightly blurred and yet my other senses are on high alert.

I can feel the gush of air hit my skin as people run by me. They just barely miss me, my body dipping out of the way at the last second before a collision will give away my position in the room.

I turn and look at the stage but Soren is not there. A sigh escapes my lips, tears filling my eyes as terror slowly settles into the bottom of my stomach, fermenting a new wave of nausea while my mate bond with him makes me hyperaware of my surroundings.

“Soren!” I yell out his name but my voice is drowned out from the chaos of the room. Tears leave my eyes, the mate bond becoming overwhelming.

I want to drop to my knees and cry, to give up and have the Werewolf rogues take me away, to allow them to do whatever it is they want with me. My life has been so hard, people will understand why I have given up, right? They will see the pain that I have gone through, the constant humiliation with Bianca, and my pained relationship with their beloved Alpha King.

“Celia!”

My name is shouted over the sounds of chaos. Soren’s voice piques my interest, causing my shoulders to stiffen, swiveling around on my feet as I tru to find him among the crowd.

“Soren!” I yell back, pushing deeper into the crowd.

From the distance, I can hear the Lycan soldiers yell at each other, wondering where I am and how I was able to escape their close proximity.

“Celia!” Soren’s voice slices through the chaos once again, my mind able to pick up on it through the use of the mate bond we share.

I turn around once again but am met with the sight of my enemy, Bianca. She wears a snarl on her face and wields a large knife in her hand. The blade catches in the light and I gasp, holding my hands out to her in a desperate attempt to put distance between us, to try and get her to stop.

“Bianca, please, don’t—!”

It is too late. The knife is thrust into my body, making itself at home inside my stomach. I look down, a look of shock and horror etched into my face as Bianca pulls me closer, the knife dinking deeper into my body.

“Know your place, Celia,” Bianca coldly laughs into my ear. Her cackles are maniacal, sending chills throughout my body. “You will never be the Lycan Princess. You will never be loved by Soren. You are just a nobody who deserves to be put into the ground.”

Bianca pulls away from me and releases her grip on the knife. I look down, my hands enclosed around the blade. I slowly pull them away, my hands covered in bright red blood — my blood.

I stumble backwards. Black spots encase my vision and my breathing begins to come to a slow. I shake my head, knowing that I need to stay away for as long as possible for my chances to survive this to be higher.

I drop to my knees, hunched over as blood begins to pour out of my mouth. I fall onto my side, rolling onto my back with ease as the bright, golden lights of the ceiling flood my vision.

The world moves around me but it is in slow motion. One moment, Bianca stands over my body, smug smirk on her face. I blink and open my eyes again and she is gone.

I cough and blood sprays into the air, my intestines definitely having been damaged beyond repair. My head rolls to the side, my vision blurry.

From afar, I see Soren. He sprints towards me, my own name muffled in my ears as he cries it out. He drops down next to me and I feel his hand scoop the back of my head.

His touch is so warm, so comforting. I’m so cold compared to it. It feels nice, though, like a warm gentle breeze that takes me away into a blissful slumber, darkness overtaking my vision and consciousness.