Malrik’s POV

“Alpha… Alpha, please.”

Ysolde’s voice reached me, but it felt muted, distant as though the sound came from another room, muffled by walls I couldn’t break through. I was frozen. My body refused to move, my tongue heavy and useless. The shock burrowed into my bones, cold and paralyzing, like a river seized by winter’s ice.

Dravina.

A Moonchild.

A Mancini.

The great-granddaughter of the Mad King.

The truth reverberated inside me with crushing force. It was ...