The court event continued like nothing had happened—at least on the surface.

But every vampire in that throne room felt the tension. It clung to the walls like smoke, thick and heavy. I stood at Valen’s side, wrapped in silence, each breath careful. One wrong move and I’d be more than just a girl with vampire blood—I’d be a corpse on marble.

Valen had barely spoken since Regis’s warning. But his eyes hadn’t left me—not once.

His possessiveness crackled beneath the surface, restrained but volatile.

A toast was raised. Goblets clinked. Someone laughed too loudly. My gaze swept the grand chamber—tall obsidian columns, velvet banners, and glowing crystal chandeliers. It was beautiful, in the way a predator’s den was beautiful.

Then—
a glint.

Small. Quick. Sharp.

A dagger.

Too fast to scream—only to react.

It cut through the air like lightning aimed straight for me. Silver and carved with runes I didn’t recognize.

But I never felt it.

Because Valen moved.

No—he vanished.

And something else took his place.

A howl of rage exploded across the room, the kind of sound that clawed at your bones. A sound made for war.

Where Valen had stood now loomed something massive.

A wolf—but not like any wolf I’d ever seen.

He was Urwolf—the kind old vampire texts whispered about. Towering. All black, his fur gleaming like obsidian dipped in blood. His eyes glowed a vicious, pupil-less red, like coals trapped beneath clear ice. Fire and fury. Pain and protection. All at once.

The dagger clattered harmlessly to the floor.

Silence. And then—
chaos.

The court exploded in panic. Vampires scrambled back. Some drew weapons. Others just froze, caught in the gravity of what had just happened.

Valen—the king’s weapon, the Council’s executioner, the feared predator—had lost control in a public court.

He stood over me, snarling, his fangs longer than swords. His body shook with rage, fur bristling, claws cracking the marble floor beneath him.

I stared up at him, trembling. My heart raced—but not from fear.

From awe.

And something I wasn’t ready to name.

The scent of blood and shadow clung to the air.

Regis took a step forward, but I saw his fingers tremble. “Valen. Shift back. Now.”

Valen didn’t move.

His massive head turned toward the would-be assassin—now restrained by guards—his jaws parting in a deep, snarling growl.

And then he lunged.

First toward the assassin—teeth tearing flesh, screams swallowed in seconds—then he whirled on the others. Court members. Innocents.

I ran forward. “Valen!”

He didn’t see me.
Or if he did—he wasn’t there anymore.

The wolf had taken over.
Possession. Rage. Love twisted into madness.

He raised one massive paw—
and struck.

The blow sent me flying. The wind left my lungs as I slammed into the floor, my side burning, my left arm cut and bleeding.

Pain bloomed—but it wasn’t fear I felt.
It was heartbreak.

I looked up. He stood amid chaos—blood around his muzzle, fresh gore staining his claws. Bodies lay broken and still across the marble floor.

This wasn’t Valen.
Not the Valen who kissed me. Not the one who protected me.

But I saw him—buried deep inside that monstrous form.

I pushed myself up, blood trailing down my arm, and reached for him.

My fingers touched his fur—warm and wet with blood.

“Valen…?” My voice was soft, but steady. “This isn’t you. Please... come back.”

He snarled. His body tensed. His burning red eyes locked on me—wild, unseeing.

And then—
I sang.

“If I pushed you...
Or if I came on too strong...
Or if I ambushed you...
For that, I’ll say I was wrong.”

Step by step, I moved closer.

“And if you hate me...
Then I’m sorry my love’s too much for you…”

The wolf didn’t move. His claws twitched, blood dripping.

I was close now—close enough to feel his heat, his power, his trembling fury.

And then I threw myself into him, arms around his massive neck, burying my face in his fur.

“But I’m not sorry for loving you!!” I cried.

Tears spilled from my eyes, hot against bloodstained fur. I held him like I could hold him together—like I could keep him from falling apart.

And something inside him shifted.

With a low, broken growl, the shadows peeled away. The fur receded. The monster unraveled.

Valen shifted back—human again, trembling, bleeding, broken. His arms wrapped around me, crushing me to his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered hoarsely, forehead pressed to mine. “I’m sorry for hurting you. I didn’t mean to—I couldn’t—”

“I know,” I breathed, clinging tighter. “I know.”

Around us, the court was still. Watching. Staring. No one dared speak. No one dared move.

They’d just seen their executioner lose control.

And they’d seen what brought him back.

Me.

The court had been dismissed in tense, breathless silence.
No one dared challenge him.
Not after what they saw.

Valen hadn’t said a word.
He just walked away.
Back to his room.
Back into the dark.

I stood there in the stillness, the weight of a hundred eyes behind me, the blood on my skin cooling. Then I moved.

I don’t remember deciding to.
I just… knocked.

Softly. Almost too softly.
I hadn’t meant to—but my knuckles tapped the door like a question.

From the other side came his voice—low and broken:

“You’re not safe here.”
A pause. Then—rougher, rawer—
“Not even now. I hurt you. I was the one hurting you—not them.”

His voice cracked like something splintering in his chest.

“I noticed,” I whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. My heart was still racing, still aching from everything.
“But… can I come in? Please?”

There was no answer.
Only silence.
Wounded. Hollow.

So I pushed the door open.

Valen stood near the window, back turned, shoulders tense.
His coat had been tossed aside. His hair hung loose, wild from the shift. Blood stained the edge of his shirt—some his, some not.

“Valen…” I said softly.
“I don’t care if you hurt me.
I mean—of course I care. But not like that.”
I stepped inside, closing the door behind me.
“You’ve saved me more than once. Protected me. Even from yourself.
Please—look at me.”

Slowly, he turned.
His eyes found mine—and they weren’t glowing anymore.
They were just tired.
And filled with something far more dangerous than rage.

Guilt.
Need.
Fear.

He looked like a man unraveling.

I crossed the room, reaching for him.
And this time, he didn’t pull away.

I touched his arm, and he flinched—but only slightly. Like he couldn’t believe I was real.
That I was still there. Still reaching for him.

“I saw you,” I whispered.
“The real you. Not the monster. Not the mask.
And I’m still here.”

His breath hitched. He lowered his head—and for the first time since the court, he let himself hold me.

Valen had shown his true form.