(But in the shadow of the tower, someone else was smiling... and the true game had only just begun.)
The night at the Verona Mansion was silent, yet within its walls, a fateful destiny was being woven.Cristal, wrapped in a deep blue cloak, sat at her desk, her quill dancing across the parchment with calculated precision. Her eyes reflected the flickering candle flame — and the shadow of an irrevocable choice.
"To the Ebony Wolf,The woman of your destiny and mate to the heir of the Nevri lies in the wrong hands. If you wish to claim what has always been yours, come and take it."
Cristal smiled with satisfaction as she sealed the message with black wax. No names. No details. But Salomon would understand. His obsession with finding his mate would drive him to act without hesitation.
"Go," she whispered, handing the parchment to a hooded courier. "He'll know what to do."
*"Run to her, wolf," Cristal whispered to the night. "The closer you draw her to you, the faster she will burn."*
The messenger vanished into the night, and Cristal leaned back in her chair, closing her eyes with a serene smile.
"Soon, Aisha... you will disappear forever. Remember — that blood running through her veins... not even Sanathiel understands what it means for the bloodlines."
Hours later, Lionel entered Cristal's room, searching for his coat. The air smelled of burnt wax and fresh ink.He frowned upon noticing a small, crumpled piece of parchment near the candelabrum.
Carefully, he unfolded the paper. No names, no clear details — but the words sent a chill through him:
"The woman of your destiny and mate..."
Lionel felt a shiver crawl down his spine. His instincts told him that Cristal was walking a dangerous path — but just how far was she willing to go?
He took a deep breath and replaced the parchment where he'd found it. He wouldn't confront her. Not yet. Not while she was so unstable. If she felt cornered, she might do something far worse.
"I'll keep watch," he thought, quietly closing the door behind him.
Far away, deep within a distant forest, a shadow moved between the trees — a predator on the hunt.Salomon, the Ebony Wolf, was resting in his camp when a messenger arrived, handing him the sealed parchment.
He tore it open with impatience, his deep amber eyes scanning each word. His hands trembled as he reached the end.
"At last...," he murmured, his voice laced with fury and exultation.
His men circled him expectantly.
"What news, my lord?" one of his generals asked.
Salomon looked up, his smile revealing sharp fangs.
"The woman I've searched for... the mate they stole from me... is in their hands. It is time to claim what is mine."
"Aisha's blood binds more than fates — it holds the key to the balance of power between the ancient bloodlines."
The order was given. Salomon's loyal Nevri warriors began to prepare.The war against Sanathiel and his pack was about to begin. But this time, more than the future of the Nevri bloodline was at stake.
Aisha's blood now bound the fate of wolves and men alike.
And as the Ebony Wolf roared beneath the shadows of his forest, Cristal, from the window of her tower, smiled in silence.
Because sometimes... to destroy a heart, all you must do is point it toward another destiny.