At the House of Terravane, Candice paced back and forth inside her bedchamber with her hands clenched at her sides.
Every step felt heavier than the last. She hated being here, hated waiting and hated doing nothing while a war that could decide the fate of the continent was unfolding. If only magic still worked, and if only she could fight beside them instead of being trapped in silk curtains and polished floors.
She stopped by the window and stared out. Her chest felt so tight as minutes passed, which turned to hours. Doing nothing was worse than fear. It was unbearable. So she left her room and went straight to the place where decisions were made.
The council study was quiet when she arrived. Her grandfather, Archon Randal of House Terravane, stood by the long table covered in maps and sealed letters. Beside him was her father, Merlin, his brows drawn tight as he listened.
They both turned when Candice entered.
“Grandfather. Father,” she said, her voice steady only because she forced it to be.
Randal studied her carefully. “You look like someone who has already made up her mind.”
“I have,” Candice replied. “And I will not leave until you hear me.”
Merlin sighed softly. “Candice, this is not the time for—”
“It is exactly the time,” she cut in, surprising even herself. She stepped forward, her hands clenched. “You both were aware that the Alpha King is marching to Velmora. The Cross Clan has spread darkness through every house, including ours, and yet Terravane does nothing.”
Randal’s expression hardened. “We are not doing nothing. We are being cautious.”
“Cautious?” Candice let out a breathless laugh. “People are dying, Grandfather. Packs are broken. The balance of power is collapsing, and we are waiting to see who wins so we can stand on the safer side.”
Merlin shifted uncomfortably. “Watch your words.”
“No,” she said, turning to him. “You taught me to speak when something is wrong. And this is wrong.”
She faced Randal again, her chin lifting. “Send men. Even in secret. Support the Alpha King, if not openly then from the shadows. If the Cross Clan wins and controls Aetherion completely, Terravane will not be spared. We both know that.”
Randal was silent for a long moment. The ticking of the clock on the wall sounded too loud.
“You speak as if you already know the outcome of this war,” he finally said.
“I know what will happen if we do nothing,” Candice replied quietly. “And I refuse to be part of that.”
Merlin looked at her then, truly looked at her, and something in his expression softened. “You sound like your grandmother,” he murmured.
Candice’s eyes flickered. “She would have fought.”
“Yes,” Randal agreed. “She would have.”
He walked back to his chair and sat, his movements slow, deliberate. “You think I have not considered this? That I have not weighed every possible consequence?”
“Then choose,” Candice said. “Choose to stand on the right side.”
Randal folded his hands together. “If House Terravane is discovered aiding the Alpha King and the Cross Clan wins, we will be erased.”
“And if they lose,” Candice countered, “we will be remembered.”
The room fell silent again.
Finally, Randal exhaled. “Very well. I have already sent men.”
Candice’s breath caught. “You... you did?”
“Shadow units only,” he continued. “They are observing, not intervening unless absolutely necessary. No banners. No witnesses.”
Tears welled in her eyes as relief crashed over her. She rushed forward and hugged him tightly. “Thank you. Thank you, Grandfather.”
Randal rested a hand on her head. “Do not thank me yet. War always demands payment.”
Before Candice could respond, hurried footsteps echoed outside the study. A Terravane scout burst in, panting.
“Archon,” the man said, dropping to one knee. “The battle is over.”
Candice’s heart slammed against her ribs. “And?”
“The Alpha King won,” the scout continued. “Decisively. The Cross Clan fell. Zander Ivanov reclaimed House Aetherion.”
Candice sank into a chair, trembling. A shaky laugh escaped her as tears spilled freely now. “They won...”
“Our men did not intervene,” the scout added. “They witnessed everything from a distance.”
Randal closed his eyes briefly. “You may go.”
When the scout left, Randal turned back to Candice, his gaze unreadable.
“The Ivanov Clan is finally restored,” he said. “Salem Ivanov’s bloodline stands again.”
Candice nodded slowly. “That is good news.”
Randal stood and approached her, his voice lowering. “There is more.”
She looked up at him, confusion stirring. “What do you mean?”
She swallowed hard. She knew that expression all too well—the same one her grandfather wore when she was in trouble. His brows were drawn together, his gaze serious and unyielding, and it sent a chill down her spine.
“This victory changes the balance,” he said. “And it fulfills an old agreement.”
Her stomach tightened. “Grandfather...”
He took her hand. “My child, the House of Terravane and the House of Aetherion have been bound long before this war. Long before you understood what it meant.”
Candice pulled her hand back. “No. Don’t.”
“You will marry Zander Ivanov,” Randal said calmly. “The new Archon of Aetherion.”
“What?” Candice sprang to her feet. “No. I didn’t agree to this!”
Merlin stepped closer. “Candice, please listen.”
She turned on him. “You knew.”
“Yes,” he admitted quietly. “This was decided years ago. Between your grandfather and Salem Ivanov.”
“That was before everything!” she protested. “Before exile, before war, before darkness.”
“Before chaos,” Randal said. “Which is exactly why it still stands.”
Candice shook her head.
Randal regarded her gently. “Do you remember the boy who followed you through the gardens? The one you cried over when he left?”
Her throat tightened. She remembered.
“I was a child,” she whispered.
“And now you are a woman standing at the edge of history,” Randal replied. “This union is not meant to cage you. It is meant to protect this continent.”
Candice clenched her fists, torn between fear, anger, and the weight of destiny pressing down on her chest.
“This isn’t fair,” she said softly.
“No,” Randal agreed. “It never is. But it’s time that our continent has its Emperor. And we’ll need an alliance... a good one.”
But the decision had already been made, just like the war. And Candice knew, deep down, that her life was about to change forever.
Candice swallowed hard as the thought crossed her mind.
‘But Osman...’
Just thinking of his name made her chest tighten.
She turned away from her grandfather and father, placing her hands on the table to steady herself. She had always known that liking Osman was risky.
And yet, despite everything, she found herself liking him deeply.