Chapter 68: Chapter 69: My Woman
Thorne
I walked at the front of the group, my assigned Sentinel trailing me like a silent, unwanted shadow I refused to acknowledge. My mind was nowhere near the absurd grass-cutting punishment awaiting us, nor the lingering morning chill that still clung to the air. It was entirely consumed by her.
Nyx.
I had been thinking about her far too much lately. The weight of her gaze haunted me constantly... the way she now looked at me like I was already a stranger who had betrayed her trust. It carved a deep, unrelenting ache into my chest that I could no longer pretend didn’t exist. No matter how hard I tried to bury it beneath duty and family expectations, the truth remained.
I still loved her.
Even after everything that had happened. Even after I had chosen Lysera to protect my family’s fragile alliances and bloodline obligations. Even after watching the once-vibrant mate bond between us slowly fracture and bleed out. I wasn’t sure I could survive much longer under the burden of her hatred while these fierce, possessive feelings still burned like wildfire inside me.
And then there was Elion.
My jaw tightened painfully at the mere thought of him. I hated... Loathed... how close Nyx had grown to that silver-tongued, flirtatious bastard.
She was too naive, too trusting, her worldview still shaped by nine years of protective isolation imposed by her parents. She saw Elion as charming. Safe. Harmless entertainment. But I had seen what men like him truly did to bright, innocent girls like her. I had witnessed the wreckage they left behind. I wouldn’t allow him to use her as a temporary distraction only to discard her the way he had done to Ivy. Not while I still drew breath.
"Where is Nyx?" Lyra’s worried voice suddenly sliced through my spiraling thoughts, sharp with concern.
I snapped back to reality instantly, instincts flaring.
Something was wrong.
Only five of us stood on the gravel path leading toward the western grounds. Nyx was missing. Yet six Sentinels surrounded our small group, silent, masked, and far too many for a simple disciplinary task like cutting grass.
My eyes narrowed into dangerous slits. "Where is Nyx?" I demanded, turning sharply toward the Sentinel who had been assigned to shadow her.
No answer came.
Instead, the masked figure replied in a flat, mechanical tone that grated against my nerves, "You all need to start cutting the grass immediately, or you will regret it."
Kaden scoffed loudly and stepped forward with open defiance. "What do you mean ’regret’? One of our members is missing and you’re standing here talking about grass?"
The Sentinel remained utterly unmoved. "We do not answer to you."
"You don’t care what happens to her at all?" Kaden snapped, his voice rising with frustration and anger.
"Enough questions," another Sentinel barked. "Proceed with your punishment."
None of us moved an inch. The tension thickened like storm clouds gathering before a violent downpour.
"At least tell us where Nyx Vaeloria is," Elion said, his voice deceptively calm, too calm, laced with that effortless charm he wielded like a weapon. Then he offered one of his signature soft, disarming smiles, directing its full power straight at the nearest Sentinel. Subtle persuasion rolled beneath the surface.
Something strange flickered in the air. The Sentinel actually hesitated. His armored shoulders shifted almost imperceptibly, as though Elion’s influence had brushed against whatever remained of his will.
Even I noticed it. Werewolves were gifted in many areas, but watching that kind of persuasion affect a Sentinel was deeply unsettling.
"She needs to be punished for touching the Veil Mirror," the Sentinel suddenly blurted out.
Instant, heavy silence crashed over the group.
Even the other Sentinels turned sharply toward the one who had spoken, their postures stiffening with alarm.
"What are you saying?" one of them hissed dangerously.
"You shouldn’t have said that," another muttered under his breath.
The first Sentinel stiffened, visibly confused. "I... I don’t know why I said that."
My chest constricted painfully, a cold blade of dread sinking deep.
Veil Mirror. Punishment. Nyx. Those words should never exist in the same sentence.
"What Veil Mirror?" I demanded, my voice dropping into a low, lethal growl. "What the hell are you talking about?"
"Enough," a senior Sentinel barked. "Proceed to your punishment or face additional consequences."
But none of us budged.
"You can’t single her out and punish her without any explanation," Theo said sharply, fists clenched tightly at his sides.
One Sentinel tilted his head, tone almost eager. "Are you going to fight us?"
The challenge hung heavy in the air like a drawn blade.
Elion exhaled slowly. "We wouldn’t dare." But I caught the strain beneath his words. He seemed weaker than usual after using his power on the Sentinel.
I stopped listening entirely.
Nyx.
I needed to find her. Now.
I reached inward, calling through the ancient, primal bond that connected us.
Fenrir.
My wolf answered instantly, his presence surging forward like a gathering storm, wild and powerful.
We need to find Nyx, I said immediately.
I told you to mark her properly, Fenrir growled, irritation clear in his voice. If you had listened to me, we wouldn’t be wasting time like this.
"I don’t have time for your lectures," I snarled internally. "Help me find her. Now."
Anything for our mate, Fenrir replied, his tone softening with dangerous, protective intensity.
That single word... mate ...hit me like a brutal blow to the ribs, deeper and more painful than I wanted to admit. I shoved the overwhelming feeling aside.
Focus.
The world around me blurred violently. The air shifted, twisted, and tore open for a fraction of a second as Fenrir forced his power through my body without restraint.
Then I was gone.
I reappeared at the far edge of the main training field, the teleportation too fast, too raw, too uncontrolled. Fenrir had clearly pushed far beyond what I could normally handle. My vision swam for a moment, but none of that mattered.
My stomach dropped like lead.
The field was packed. Dozens of Purgers, lines of Sentinels, and several Arbiters had gathered like spectators at a public execution.
And then I saw her.
Nyx.
My body moved before conscious thought could catch up.
"What are you doing to her?!" I roared, voice tearing from my throat like thunder as I shoved my way through the crowd with brutal, unrelenting force.
Nothing else existed. Only her.
She was strapped face-down on that cursed punishment table, her body jerking violently with every merciless strike.
Her face, Goddess, her beautiful face, was twisted in unbearable agony, barely able to lift her head from the wood. Tears streamed freely down her flushed cheeks. Blood had already soaked through the back of her torn uniform, dark and damning.
Something primal and ancient inside me, snapped.
Not mere anger. Something far darker and more dangerous. Bone-deep possession. Soul-crushing fear. A rage so pure and all-consuming it felt like I could reduce the entire academy to smoldering ruins without hesitation.
I pushed harder through the bodies, elbows slamming into anyone in my path, feral growls tearing from deep in my chest. I barely recognized myself. Fenrir was worse, he was screaming inside my head, clawing desperately to be released, demanding blood and vengeance.
Before I could reach her...
Ysara lifted one elegant hand.
Calm. Cold. Absolute.
A devastating pulse of ancient magic slammed into me. Invisible chains of power wrapped around my entire body, locking every muscle in place mid-stride. I couldn’t move. Not even a finger.
My muscles tore against the spell as I fought with savage desperation, veins bulging in my neck, jaw clenched so hard I tasted blood. But it was useless. I was completely trapped. Forced to stand there helplessly while they continued beating the woman I loved.
Nyx.
My woman.
Beaten. Broken. Humiliated.
For nothing.
The thick punishment rods came down again and again in merciless, perfectly synchronized rhythm. I stopped counting after a while. The sight was too much. Too wrong. Too soul-destroying to endure.
"It is done."
The words finally came.
Her restraints released with cold metallic clicks. Her broken body was dumped carelessly onto the cold ground like discarded refuse. The impact made a sickening sound that echoed in my ears and shattered something deep inside me.
I watched in frozen, helpless horror as Irene approached with graceful, unhurried steps. She crouched beside Nyx, holding a glass of water like some twisted offering of mercy.
Nyx reached for it weakly, desperately, her fingers trembling.
Irene smiled sweetly... and tilted the glass, pouring every single drop slowly onto the dirt right in front of her face.
A soft, mocking apology left the vampire’s lips before she stood and walked away without a backward glance.
Something inside me turned to ice, then shattered into a thousand frozen pieces.
"Everyone disperse," Ysara commanded coldly. "No one is to approach her."
The crowd slowly obeyed, whispering and stealing glances as they left. Some looked guilty. Most looked entertained. None helped.
I remained frozen in place, still trapped by Ysara’s merciless spell. Helpless. Useless. Watching over Nyx as she lay bleeding and trembling on the cold ground, alone and abandoned.
I have never felt this weak in my entire life.
I fought the magic again. Harder. More desperately. Until something deep inside my soul began to tear and fray. But the spell held firm.
Time lost all meaning. Minutes bled into hours. The sun crawled across the sky and eventually dipped toward the horizon, painting the field in bloody oranges and deepening shadows.
My strength finally collapsed under its own unbearable weight. My knees gave out completely. My body slammed into the ground.
The last thing I saw before darkness swallowed me whole was that Nyx was gone. Just... gone.
I tried to lift my head. Nothing.
Darkness closed in from the edges of my vision like devouring shadows.
Distant voices called my name, and hers.
But I couldn’t move. Couldn’t answer.
Only one desperate, broken thought remained as consciousness slipped away into nothingness:
Goddess, please... don’t let her do something worse than we can handle....
Please don’t let Nyx become something we can no longer bring back from.
