Chapter 65: The Looming Threats
Evander’s words echoed in the silence of Aveloria’s chamber. For a moment, she thought she’d heard wrong. Her heart skipped. Her eyes met his, searching for any sign of playfulness or usual tease, but there was none.
"You’re sure about what you saw?" she asked, voice steady but her hands clenched at her sides.
Evander nodded without hesitation. "Yes, I’m sure. I saw Rowena at Marek’s house. They were kissing. They seemed close. Too close." He rattled on about how it had all happened.
The air in the room tightened. Aveloria’s expression didn’t change immediately. She only looked away, her jaw setting as she exhaled slowly. Galen stood beside her, overseeing her face, uncertain of what reaction might come next.
"I see," she said finally, her tone flat. "And what do you expect me to do about that?"
Evander frowned. "Aren’t you going to confront him? Or her?"
"No," Aveloria replied, her voice sharp and final. "I have more important things to deal with than worry about my mate’s lack of control or my half-sister’s desperation."
The room went quiet again. Serene and Seraphina exchanged uneasy glances but said nothing. Galen’s hand twitched slightly, as though he wanted to reach for Aveloria’s arm but held himself back.
Just as Aveloria was about to dismiss them, something shifted in the air. A strong awareness rushed through her. She felt it in her chest, a familiar pull, something she had felt once before, long ago, in a life she barely wanted to remember.
Her gaze drifted from Evander to the twins, her pulse suddenly racing. The hairs on her arm stood on end. A sense of déjà vu washed over her, sharp and cold, leaving her breathless for a second.
Something about this moment felt wrong. Not just bad but familiar.
She stepped closer, her voice firm now, layered with quiet urgency. "Listen to me carefully," she said, looking at all three of them. "You must not tell anyone about this. No one. And you must never go near Rowena again. And if Eirene ever asks you anything about what you saw, you know nothing. You didn’t see Marek. You didn’t see Rowena. Understand?"
Seraphina frowned. "Why? We should tell Father. He needs to know what’s going on."
Aveloria’s eyes snapped to her. "No!"
The word cut through the air like a whip. Seraphina flinched.
"This is for your safety," Aveloria said, her tone lower now but not softer. "There are things at play you don’t understand. You must do as I say. Promise me."
Evander exchanged glances with the twins. Serene nodded quickly, her voice quiet. "We promise."
Seraphina hesitated for a moment before giving a reluctant nod. "Fine. We promise."
"Good."
Aveloria’s voice trembled faintly as she said it, though she hid it well. "Now go. And stay away from both of them."
As soon as they left, the composure she’d been holding cracked. She turned away from the door and began pacing, one hand pressed to her chest. Her thoughts raced, overlapping, loud and messy.
Galen stepped closer, his brows furrowed. "Aveloria, what’s wrong?"
She didn’t answer. She could barely breathe. Her mind was connecting fragments of memory, broken flashes from her first life.
The kiss. Rowena and Marek’s closeness. Was this how it had all started? Their affair? The chain of events that had followed. The ruin that came after.
Truly, it had been planned. Evander had been set up then to ruin his reputation. The twins had been taken out of the picture, so they could no longer challenge the official narrative. Rowena and Eirene, together, had built an easy path to remove any obstacles.
Aveloria pictured the sequence and felt the nausea of that memory. Her fingers dug into the edge of her dress until she felt her skin peel.
"No," she whispered under her breath, shaking her head, as if refusing to believe it. "It can’t be happening again."
Galen moved closer. "Aveloria—"
But she didn’t hear him. Aveloria sat down slowly on the bed because her legs felt weak.
In her mind, she was reliving it all, the destruction that had followed once before—Evander, accused of sexually assaulting palace maids. The shame. The protest from the council. Her father’s forced decision. Stripped of his titles as a prince and exiled to the Wastes. And then the twins, their laughter silenced, their bodies found cold and lifeless. The blood, the grief, the helplessness that had followed. It had made her whole life come apart before.
If they had done it once, they could do it again. She could still feel it. The same helpless ache was gripping her chest.
It had all started like this, with Rowena and Eirene. All this while she had thought it was all Rowena’s plans. And she hadn’t seen it coming. But this time, she knew better.
Galen dropped to his knees in front of her without thinking and took her hands in both of his. "Aveloria," he said again. His voice was calm, careful. "Tell me what’s going on. Talk to me. You’re shaking."
She didn’t answer again. The memories were private, sharp, and still raw. They belonged to a life that felt like a scar she didn’t want to reopen in another’s hands. Letting him in completely would make her sound crazy. Who would believe she had been reborn?
The panic she had held back since the conversation started tightened in her chest, making her breathing uneven. A tear slid down her cheek before she could stop it. She gasped softly, trying to steady herself.
Galen’s warm palms went firm around hers. "You’re safe," he said quietly. "Whatever this is, you’re safe. Talk to me."
She looked at him, finally meeting his eyes. "They’re going to kill them," she whispered.
His brow furrowed. "What?"
"My siblings," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "Evander, Serene, Seraphina..." She paused, swallowing hard. "Now I see it. I can tell it all started from here. She must have told Eirene about Evander catching her with Marek, and they must have known he’d tell the twins, and eventually, me. So...so..." Her voice trembled. "If I’m right, they’ll do it again."
Galen’s face hardened, but he kept his voice steady. "Calm down, Ave. I don’t get what you’re saying."
"I can’t lose them the second time."
"Can you—"
Aveloria stood up abruptly, wiping her face. "You can’t understand. But you can help me."
Galen rose too, trying to meet her eyes. "If you are saying they are in danger, then we’ll protect them."
Aveloria nodded repeatedly. "I need the best wolves on them—quiet guards who don’t look like guards. Assign men who can blend, who move like stewards or servants. If Eirene notices a sudden parade of guards around my siblings, she’ll know." Her tone was desperate.
Galen studied her. "Listen, Aveloria, we can—"
"Just do it!" She told him. This time, her voice didn’t ask; it ordered, because there was no time to debate.
Eirene is cunning. Rowena is desperate. They’re capable of anything. Aveloria can’t let them know she’s suspicious or they’ll move faster.
He placed his hands gently on her shoulders. "Alright, I’ll have a word with my father so he can approve it."
"Please, we have to do it before we leave for Elder Thalos’ place."
He hesitated for only a second before nodding. "All right."
She watched him turn toward the door. Before he left, he glanced back. "You don’t have to face all of this alone, Aveloria. I meant what I said, I’ll stand with you, no matter what comes."
She tried to smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. "Thank you, Galen."
When the door closed behind him, silence settled again. Aveloria stood still for a long time, her mind whirling. Her heart was still pounding, but beneath the fear, something else rose— a strong determination.
This time, she wouldn’t let history repeat itself.
In her past life, she had trusted too easily. She had hesitated. She had let her emotions cloud her instincts. And by the time she realized the truth, it had been too late.
Not this time.
Rowena thought she was clever, manipulating Marek, leaning on her mother’s power. And Eirene, always smiling, always pretending to be harmless while spinning her webs in the dark. For too long, Eirene had poisoned the court from the shadows, whispering into her father’s ear, weaving her influence, turning family into enemies.
For too long, Aveloria had allowed guilt and pain to cloud her judgment. But now she had a second chance, a chance to rewrite what had once destroyed her.
Aveloria clenched her fists. She would expose them. Both of them.
She took a slow breath and whispered to herself, steady and quiet, "I will not lose them again. Not this time."
She walked to her desk and pulled out a piece of parchment, quickly writing a few notes —a list of names she could trust, those who had remained loyal in the past. She would need them soon.
The following steps were clear: protect her father and siblings, gather proof against Eirene, and cut off the source of her power before she could strike again.
When she finished writing, she folded the parchment neatly and placed it inside a book on her desk.
