Sebastian frowned at the words both the ones she said outloud and internally. He held her fingers till she moved away enough to pull them away.

He stared after her, snapping back to Aleksander and Rigelus as he heard Aleksander's voice. Belatedly he realized Rigelus had complied and he let his spear vanish.

He had so many questions, what was the argument about him? It had to be didn't it? That was the only thing that could set her off like that. Sebastian mentally relaxed, whatever it was surely it was a misunderstanding?

(Not that Natalia had those often now)

"You alright Sasha? What in the world happened?"

Rigelus stepped backward, rubbing at his throat.

"I'll just - I should leave you both -"

"No."

Sebastian frowned as Agenor slid the door closed. His eyes went to Aleksander, cataloging the marks before looking to Sebastian.

"She's alright though she may rip Rigelus head off if he goes after her."

"I wasn't planning on -"

"She filled me in just now. I - I think it's best if Rigelus stays if that's alright with you Bash."

Sebastian looked to Aleksander, crossing his arms. He didn't much care about the audience but if Agenor and Natalia thought it was best....

"What exactly happened?"

Aleksander looks between... everyone. He doesn't stay too much on anyone else, attention pulled back to focus only on his father. The questions still there, unanswered.

So he decides to just ignore everyone else. To just act like they're not even there. He doesn't know why they are, but it really doesn't matter, right?

❝ I was just... saying some things, just talking with some friends and... I guess Ma heard some of it. And got a little angry. ❞ Understatement.

It is somehow a lot harder to call his father weak and pathetic when Sebastian is standing in front of him, though, even if it is just to tell him that he'd said it to the others. And not like Aleksander is calling his father that right now.

It's not exactly the same... right?

But it still feels like he's insulting his father to his face. Which doesn't seem right.

❝ Why don't you fight anymore? ❞ Aleksander blurts out instead. ❝ Everyone-- You never fight, Pa. And some of the stories say that you were terrifying in the wars but I-- ❞ He cuts off, shrugs, sucks in a breath.

How do I know they're actually true?

The thought hasn't left him alone, and it's that fear that eats at Aleksander constantly. That everything is nothing but talk. No substance.

Just talk.

❝ You don't... You don't act like a male that would wield power like that, Pa. That would be terrifying like everyone said you were. You don't act strong like that, and you act we-- ❞

Aleksander stops, only the beginning syllable slipping free, before he catches himself. Cuts it off. The words that angered his mother so much.

Weak and pathetic.

Anastasiya rolled her eyes, hard. His father -

"Brittany!"

She turned again to the doors, William looked sober now at least. He scowled at her, fire and ice twisting up his arm. His eyes were frenzied, mad.

"You bitch! What has my darling sister ever done to you?! How dare -"

"You really should have fucked her when you had the chance William -"

William screamed, running toward her. His blade coating with fire and ice. He was going to kill her, rid his kingdom of her and Aleksander.

Anastasiya sighed and called on her magic again. His heart beat so fast, so much rage. All she had to was -

Aleksander rolls his eyes. Dramatics. He's despised William almost as long as any of them, but the other male served certain uses. Positions. He had a purpose. To a point.

The anger shifts inside of him, twists. The iron grip it holds on his chest seems only to increase, William's words against Anastasiya igniting that thing in Aleksander that he's sought to kill off--to suffocate, to destroy--for ages now.

It just won't die.

But the darkness doesn't care, as it lashes out like a blade, slicing through William's neck. The male's head hits the stone at Anastasiya's feet with a thud, then rolls a few more inches before it stops moving, William's eyes gazing lifelessly up at the ceiling.

❝ You are constantly making a mess of everything. ❞ Frustration coats every word as Aleksander glares at Anastasiya, his hand lifting to his head, massaging his temples.

Hoping to ease the growing headache away.

At least some of that which caused it are gone. Silenced.

Even if Anastasiya is still there.

❝ But at least he's silent now, ❞ he mutters under his breath, not even caring if he speaks loud enough that Anastasiya hears or not. At that point, Aleksander just doesn't care at all, letting the frustration seep into every word, every syllable.

The darkness still coats every inch, the shadows still blocking every inch of light that might try and get through. It's only the two of them right now...

But Aleksander just turns and walks away, not saying another word to her as he shakes his head, the utter rage burning inside all he can handle...

She barely feels the shadows even if they squeeze and squeeze. She only smiles, the numbness that had been on her like a shroud lifting.

Had he forgotten the magic in her blood? Had he forgotten who her blood was?

She couldn't control shadows, but she'd seen Kaden bend them. Seen how he trained Aleksander and drilled him - again and again. She had decrieid it at cruel then.

How dare Kaden not see Aleksander as the mate he was?

But now?

She flickers her fingers twisting them and pulling.

She could feel the heartbeat of the Fae as they screamed. How many years had been since the bitch had taken their home?

"You don't care for her Aleksander. What does it matter? The smartest thing you've done is not given her a child to ensare you."

She exhaled that rage, her vision going red. No, no her soul had died in those wars. No, no if she'd been pregnant with his child she would have slaughtered woman and child.

Her conscience be damned.

Jurian was already dead, she'd made him into bones. How more farther could she fall after that?

What other action mattered after what she had done to him?

She squeezed the queen scream as her body sagged. It fell like a drumbeat between them, the room was so dark but his eyes - they glowed.

She would have loved a scene like this. When he would hid them from the entire world. When it was just his eyes and everything else was sensation.

She looked to the door, she was sure Brittany vapid as she was - had at least had some wards in place.

"They'll think you helped me."

They probably wouldn't, but why not? If she was going to upend his life....she would all go in. She turned back to him, her lips pulling back in a shark smile.

"Why are you fighting me so hard? I kill them and you have the power you want."

She couldn't believe she had wanted a child with this male. That she didn't see how stupid he was. He has only ever wanted her for the power she had. Would he have stayed if she had no magic? Would he have stayed if they had nothing? All those pretty words, they were just words. They didn't make males like her father, like Kaden or his any longer. Those males would have stayed, his own father would have given up his magic to be a mortal with his mother if that's the only way to be with her.

He would have chosen death with her than the most powerful seat in the realms. How did Aleksander live with himself? How did he sleep at night?

"Your father would be disgusted with the male you are. Maybe that's why Azriel and Ramiel continue to fight your rule, maybe that's why they offer sanctuary to anyone who can escape you. He is a better male than you'll ever be."

If she got out of this alive maybe they'll take her in. Maybe she'll have some use before she died.

Because she was just like him, if she'd been his queen - if she'd been his in every way that mattered...who cared about the innocent's dying outside of their walls?

She would have him in her bed and everyone else would have knelt at her feet or died.

They'll think you helped me.

Aleksander scoffs. The very idea of such a belief is ridiculous, and the fact that Anastasiya even utters it as if there is a chance of such-- Perhaps she's even further down the path of delusion than he'd believed.

Sure, maybe the moment he feels the queen's heart stop, hears the sound of her lifeless body hitting the floor, there's a sense of relief that swells through him. Aleksander has tired of her presence from the beginning, her voice scratching against his senses, his mind. Every single syllable bringing a constant headache--

Even so, Aleksander smirks back at her, meeting her expression with the darkness he's cultivated so well, with the hatred that has fueled him from the very second he's embraced all that he is. No longer pretending to care about a single other soul in these realms than himself because none of them deserve his focus. His care.

❝ You give all of them too much credit to do any thinking at all, Anastasiya. ❞ Besides, the amount of twisted truths, of lies, of power he's wielded from every corner to suppress any little bit of argument or potential unrest, to prove to all of them that there is no threat to his rule...

Oh no.

No. Aleksander has what he wants. And no matter how Anastasiya tries, she cannot twist deep enough to insult him.

❝ And my father was weak. Pitiful. ❞ Hissed response, Aleksander towers over Anastasiya, dark eyes glaring at her as the bands of shadow twist tight enough to leave marks. He doesn't care. Not anymore.

❝ My father, Azriel, every single one of them too weak and useless to do a single thing right. To prove themselves worthy of anything-- ❞

From April 2, 2024, to April 2, 2025.

Here's just a (very, very small selection) of Sasha’s journey as his entire FIRST YEAR with the family. He was such a tiny little fluff ball when he came home.

And now?

Now he’s a little lion. But big brother Xaden still looks out for him, though.

Happy GOTCHA DAY, Sasha!

(*top left is literally the night I brought him home on Apr.02.2024. and bottom right was taken exactly one year later, on Apr.02.2025.)

She stumbles backward, catching her hand on the back of a chair. She stares at him, the blood felt ugly now not so much a badge of honor.

The heating of Jurian's bones against her chest snap her out of her daze. How dare he?

She leans forward, wondering if she should slap him. But no, no this - he didn't deserve her touch.

"You want this over? Fine. I don't know why I bothered on you, you were magnificent once and now you surround yourself with sycophants, it's disgusting. The Sasha - no Sasha died didn't he? I never imagined Aleksander was so insecure he couldn't take challenges to his power."

She turned away, walking to the doors as they burst open. The Queen flounced past her, barely glancing at her. Must be the blood, was this how he left all those other women?

Pathetic that he needed to tear a woman down to prove a point.

"Aleksander did you the guards dead? William mentioned it -"

"Do you ever stop talking Brittany?"

The Queen turned, her eyes growing colder.

"Who are you to address -"

Anastasia turned, her magic lashing out making her fall to her knees, her blood to boil. She watched her begin to scream impassively. She smiled at Aleksander as she began to tighten her grip.

"I'll leave to mourn my mate. You just wear his face, you're hollow. But before I do...I'm going to paint this palace red."

Aleksander feels the steady pounding in his head, the growing headache that moments like this always seem to constantly bring. It's like he lives with a headache these days, but Anastasiya's words do at least one good thing in that moment.

They give a direction for the rage, the anger, the hatred to focus. Finally.

Darkness shifts, twists inside of him. Eyes are deep pits of black, not a single emotion behind them as he stalks forward, shadow rushing out in every direction. The room turning pitch black, but still allowing Aleskander to see his target.

To see her.

❝ You cross a dangerous line, Anastasiya. ❞ The growl is deep, bands of shadow thick and hard as they hurl towards her, lash against her chest, wrap around her waist to yank her back.

To break the power she holds over the queen. Because while Aleksander holds no fond feelings towards the royal female (and probably would have killed her himself ages ago, her vapid voice constantly grating on his senses with every single second it speaks)... It is, unfortunately, a bit more complicated a matter.

Even if Anastasiya doesn't understand that.

Heavy steps carry Aleksander forward, boots against the stone as he walks towards Anastasiya, the darkness still covering the entire room, rushing into the halls beyond the open doors.

❝ You take too stupid an action right now, and cross a line that you will not be able to turn away from. I suggest you rethink it, now, before making another ill-advised decision. ❞

Aleksander is inches from her now, but it is only his shadows that grip her, hold her. Bands of darkness, not his hands, not his tight fingers that want to squeeze and shake sense into her, to make her understand-- The shadows might be acting as chains, as shackles, for all he knows in that moment.

He can't get in her head anymore.

❝ Do not make this decision. Do not be so stupid. ❞

She'd had a long while to figure out what to do about the blood, the lingering touch of William on her. In the end she waited, staring out at the moon.

She exhaled, leaning into him. She ignored his words, they didn't seem very important. Her eyes closed feeling his grip tighten - it was grounding.

"You're loosing your touch by letting William live as long as you have. He tried to assault me in the hallway a bit ago as I was coming here. Of course the guards didn't much care to stop him so I had to."

She turned fully to face him, showing the blood splatter on her face, her gown and hands. She stared at him. moving to lay her head back on his shoulder, her eyes closing.

"If you're going to go on a rampage lock the doors, I just want to sleep for awhile."

None of this had anything to do with her feelings for Aleksander - but she had forgotten how to let her armor go. Forgot how to just sleep without wards and a blade under her pillow. Was this how her aunt and uncles felt? Was this how they survived as long as they had?

When she doesn't immediately respond to his comment, Aleksander frowns, only to feel that iron grip on his chest as he spots the blood splatter on her face, her dress. It mars her beauty, and yet at the same time, he can't help the part of him that is impressed at the darkness that she wielded against that pitiful male.

Perhaps a part of him isn't sure if the rage gripping him is more directed at her--for letting anyone touch her, even when he knows that she isn't his, that he seeks to destroy whatever little fragile thread still tries to tie him to her at all anyway. Or at himself, for even caring about any of it. That he even cares what male Anastasiya takes to her bed, whose hands she allows on her flesh.

That he even cares to take the effort to ensure something unfortunate befalls every single one of them...

Or if that anger is directed at William, for daring to touch Anastasiya at all. For daring to think him remotely worthy of her, for thinking himself capable of satisfying her, for thinking he has any sort of right to any part of her.

And all of it-- Aleksander despises the twists in his mind that do not clarify just where his anger, his rage, should be most directed.

To whom does he hate most right then...?

❝ Why did you even let him touch you in the first place? ❞ The question leaves Aleksander in a growl, his fingers digging tight into Anastasiya's arms. He knows he shouldn't care, that it doesn't matter. Or it shouldn't. But despite what should or shouldn't, he still can't help the illogical desire to not want someone like William to dare to touch her--

❝ I told you it has to stop, Ana.. Anastasiya. ❞ Aleksander steps back, shakes his head. Pulls away before he can slip further, letting her full name finish, having almost slipped back into a past familiarity that he cannot have.

The fairy tale is over. It was never supposed to exist at all.

And especially not anymore.

Anastasiya hid the smile as she moved through the halls. She knew that note would work, but her work wasn't done. She had to be delicate and not come off too -

"Anastasiya!"

She bit back a sigh as Will came toward her. He'd been trying to come to her chamber for a week. Aleksander was getting sloppy to let him still live.

He'd been through the war with them, the brother of the Queen. But it didn't seem to matter to anyone how he looked her.

It made her skin look at her. He shouldn't be the one looking at her like that. That she held his heart in his hands and could crush it.

Which she could but that wasn't the point.

"I'm late for a meeting with Aleksander. What is it -"

Will laughed, lurching toward her. He gripped her wrist, dragging her closer. His breath stank of wine and women.

Clearly he'd been having his own more wilder party tonight. And he apparently lost all sense if he was drinking like this. Even upstanding males had a breaking point.

But he was still a Prince, General of the armies - a War Hero. And no soldier or gaurd in this hallway moved as he dragged her backward.

"You're a whore you know that? How many years will you crawl after him? How many years will you act like the war didn't happen? How -"

"Let me go William."

"No."

His grip only tightened, he sneered down at her, turning to drag her toward his rooms. She dug her heels in but didn't use her magic - not yet. Even with all these men, even with all her noble blood.

Autumn was conquered land - she was nothing more than a figure head.

"William you're hurting me -"

"Shut the fuck up. You've endured worse! You -"

He flung her away, she stumbled, tripping over the hem of her dress. He glared down at her, he was a mean drink. The dark glint in his eyes brightened and he leered at her.

"You're so hopelessly in love with him even still. You've lost all your family, I wouldn't be surprised if you sold your own court for a chance to kneel between his legs."

He reached for his belt, nodding to the soldiers.

"Lock this hallway down, I think it's time she understands just what use she has. Perhaps my darling sister was right and we should have killed her when we killed the rest of the traitors. What has her beautify done for -"

The soldiers around her began to convulse, their heads bursting. She didn't have time for the finesse her mother and Isaiah had demanded of her.

They'd have wanted her up and fighting. She stood, turning away from William. He didn't follow her, only laughed as she walked away.

"Yes, go, go! Go crawl to your master Anastasiya. You're no longer the Red Queen, you're nothing by a painted whore -"

"Get a new insult William."

She moved through the last doorways and into Aleksandr's private rooms. She stared at the blood on her hands, felt it on the side of her face. She sighed, looking to the window. She wanted to lie down, if she closed her eyes she almost saw the dream they'd whispered of late at night.

A court and kingdom all their own. Maybe Jurian and Amarantha was right - he'd loved her, but he loved power more.

It just hurt more to think he couldn't share it with her. She would have shared it with him.

It is perhaps a half hour later that Aleksander strides into his rooms, and he tries to convince himself that his gaze isn't instantly drawn in Anastasiya's direction. Like that part of him still doesn't somehow immediately know where she is in the room, even as large as it is.

Dark eyes land on her, Aleksander's shoulders tense as he approaches, stands behind her, pulls her back against his chest, arm winding tightly around her body.

❝ Why must you continue this foolishness, Anastasiya? ❞

Aleksander's voice, low, words spoken almost in a mix of a growl full of frustration, weariness, maybe a hint of anger coating their edges as his fingers dig harder in their tight grip on her. His lips barely move, even as that tiny part of him that he seeks to kill still tries to shove its way forward, push its way to the surface.

Like it still fights for air, for life.

And maybe there is a part of him that wants to shake the sense into her that what they had doesn't exist any longer. The past--that carefree idea of a fairy tale ending--was a foolish dream to have ever existed at all.

He knows that.

Why can't you?! he wants to shout at her, like it's still completely Anatasiya's fault that this dance--this annoying little weakness he can't quite defeat--exists at all.

DARKNESS HAUNTS YOUR NARRATIVE

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Help a girl decide!

Needless to say, I adored all the previous Nyaxia books, as well as the first Hurricane Wars. I also have been wanting to pick up both of these for quite some time, and I am also in the "mood" for both--

I just cannot decide which one I should choose RIGHT NOW as my next "physical book" read.

They're definitely both getting read, no question. And I just spent the last ten minutes staring at them, reading the jackets, trying to see if I could pick one-- I can't. Not even my precious kitties were able to help offer their sage wisdom and help me choose.

So I have come to my fellow book lovers and readers --

And if you have read either or both of these, PLEASE-- do not share any spoilers in the comments or messages or anything. I don't want to know anything about them plot-wise or what have you, spoilers are BAD!

I just need desperate help making a decision!

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