Chapter 183

Damon

Maps sprawled across the table, corners curling, edges smudged with my bloody fingerprints. Every circle I’d drawn was another dead end. Every report stacked on the floor was another reminder of my failure.

Red wax seals littered the desk like the husks of broken promises.

I shoved one aside, parchment scraping over wood, and braced both hands against the table until it creaked beneath me.

My reflection stared back in the polished surface of a goblet: jaw clenched, eyes rimmed red, hair wild from too many sleepless nights. A man stripped of his crown, though it still sat heavy on my head.

The bond flickered.

I froze, breath caught mid-throat. For the briefest instant, I felt her—warmth sparking through my chest like a brand pressed to skin. Still alive.

Then it vanished, snuffed out as if it had never been. It had been that way, sporadically, for days.

My knees nearly gave under me. The emptiness that followed was worse than claws through my ribs.

Zane snarled inside, frantic, battering at the cage of my bones. He hated this half-life, hated the way our mate’s scent teased and slipped away like smoke. Find her. Tear down the earth if you must. Don’t let her fade away.

“I’m trying,” I whispered into the dark, my voice broken.

The silence answered, heavy as a grave.

I dragged a hand down my face, fingertips scraping beard and scars alike. My other hand clenched, claws half-formed, splitting a corner of the map. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, the last time I’d slept more than an hour at a time.

None of it mattered. None of it filled the void where she should have been.

I had told myself a hundred lies to keep going. That she’d chosen to run. That she was safer far away from me. That I could let her go.

But every time the bond pulled, no matter how faint, those lies crumbled. And tonight the truth slipped out, raw and merciless…

“I’d give it all up,” I rasped. My voice cracked on the words. “The crown. The throne. My father’s legacy. All of it.”

The admission hung in the air. Terrifying. Irrevocable.

Because it meant the thing I had fought my whole life for—the kingdom, the order, the unity I’d carved with my claws, meant nothing without Lila by my side.

The weight of it crashed over me, heavier than armor. For a long moment I just stood there, shoulders bowed, hands fisted in the parchment until ink smeared across my palms.

I thought of her eyes, dark with defiance. The way her hair caught the light. The way she looked at me the night before everything burned.

I thought of the children we might have had and bile rose hot in my throat.

I’d driven her away. I’d let Asher whisper poison into the cracks of my reign. I’d exiled Ronan when he was only doing what I could not and offering her freedom.

And what had it bought me? Empty halls. A council that spat the word tyrant behind my back. A throne I didn’t want anymore.

The bond flickered again, faint, like a heartbeat muffled by earth. My chest ached with it.

I staggered to the desk, ripped a scrap of parchment from the pile, and seized a quill. The nib scraped hard, blotting ink across the fibers, as I scrawled the words I had sworn I never would:

We need to meet.

My hand shook as I pressed my seal into the wax, the crest of the crown glinting in the candlelight. It felt like a treason against myself; a betrayal of everything I had sworn to protect.

But the truth was simpler: if Asher could bring her back, I would give him everything. Anything. Even the throne.

I held the letter in my hand, staring down at it until the wax cooled. “I’d give it all up,” I repeated, softer this time, to myself.

For the first time in years, the crown on my head felt like nothing more than a chain.

By dawn the letter was carried by a bird I trusted less than the man who would receive it. Hours stretched, heavy and airless, until the only thing left to do was ride.

The guards watched as I left the palace alone without an escort, only my cloak pulled close and my wolf prowling under my skin. Perhaps they were relieved to see me vanish into the night.

The forest swallowed me quickly. The air smelled of wet earth, pine, and the metallic tang of my own fear.

Zane’s growl echoed inside me. Fool. He’ll twist this against us. You know it.

“I know,” I muttered aloud, tightening the reins until the horse snorted in protest. “But if it brings her back…” The rest of the thought withered in my throat.

The clearing loomed ahead, stark and open, the same meeting place as before. I dismounted slowly, boots crunching on frozen ground. Every nerve burned, every sense stretched thin.

He was already there.

Asher leaned against the lightening tree as though it were a throne, his cloak draped casually, smirk on full display as if he’d already won.

Behind him, shadows shifted, Rogues lingering at the tree line, ready to tear me apart with a single command. Not that they could.

“You called?” he said, voice warm with satisfaction, as if we were old friends meeting after years apart. “I wondered if pride might keep you chained to your throne.”

“Spare me.” My voice came out rough, harsher than I intended. “Where is she?”

His smirk widened. “Straight to business. I expected at least a polite greeting.”

My claws pricked through my skin. “Don’t play games. You said you could bring her back to me. Prove it.”

Asher stepped forward, hands open in a mockery of peace, his eyes gleaming with something feral. “I could. I can. You feel it, don’t you? That flicker. She’s alive, and closer than you realize. But she’s beyond your reach. Beyond your Crown’s reach.”

My chest clenched, desperate to feel the bond again, but there was nothing there now.

“What do you want?” I demanded.

He tilted his head, savoring it like a sip of fine wine. “What I’ve always wanted. My throne and the respect denied me. The chance to lead without living in your shadow.”

I ground my teeth so hard my jaw ached. “And if I abdicate,” The words tasted like ash. “you’ll bring her back. Alive. Unharmed.”

“Alive, yes.” His smile thinned, eyes glinting with cruel amusement. “Unharmed… that depends. Life is full of dangers, brother. Surely you know that better than anyone.”

Zane’s snarl tore through me, demanding blood. My hand twitched toward the blade at my side, but I forced myself still. One wrong move and the Rogues in the trees would try and rip me limb from limb before I reached Asher’s throat.

“You think I trust you,” I said, voice low, bitter.

“I think you’re desperate enough not to care. So tell me, Damon Sinclair, Tyrant King of nothing, what is your crown worth to you? What is your mate worth?”

I stared at him, at the arrogance radiating from every line of his body. And then I thought of Lila; the curve of her smile, the defiance in her eyes, the way she tempered me.

“I’d give it all up,” I said at last, my voice steady even as it hollowed me out. “If you bring her back safe, the throne is yours.”

For a heartbeat, silence stretched between us. Then Asher’s laughter broke it, rich and cruel, echoing off the trees.

“Ah, Damon.” He stepped closer, his shadow cutting across mine. “You’ve finally learned how to kneel. Pity it took losing everything to get here.”

The Rogues shifted, restless, waiting. Asher’s gaze lingered on me, triumphant, savoring the moment like a hunter watching his prey finally caught.

“You’ll have her,” he promised, voice smooth as silk. “But by the time I’m done, you’ll wonder if she was worth the price.”

He turned, cloak snapping behind him, and melted into the darkness with his followers.

I stood alone in the clearing, fists clenched so tight blood dripped from my palms. The crown still sat on my head, but I had already promised it away.

And I didn’t care.