<i>Zephyrine </i>


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    The letters. They were evidence, truth, or no, lies spun by those the Ashmeres trusted and obeyed. Yet everything written felt too monstrous to be real. I stared at thest one before lifting my gaze to Lycannar. He was already dressed, arms folded across his chest, watching me closely.


    “These can’t be true. How can the Imperium Council be the ones to instigate a war and still beg us Ashmeres to fight it?” I tried to ask firmly, but my voice came out broken. “These are lies, Lycan. Even Ka being the envoy between the Shifter Empire and the Demon Realm… it’s all lies. She was hailed as the one who brought peace. She was gone for five years on that mission and…”


    His silence made it worse, and I bit down on my lip to hold back a miserable sob. It can’t be true. It just


    can’t.


    Before despair swallowed me whole, Lycannar stepped forward. His eyes softened, and he drew me into his arms, solid, protective, tender.


    “You can cry now. No one is watching.” His voice was low, soothing. “You don’t need to be too brave with me. I am your man, not your subject. Cry however you want.”<fn4746> Find the newest release on </fn4746>


    It broke me. The lump in my throat swelled until I thought I might choke. And then I did cry. Hard. For my brother, alive somewhere and suffering. For my parents, my people, for the warriors who had been deceived into dying for nothing. For the Ashmeres, tricked into ughter.


    But how? How could it have happened? And more, how did he know? Where did these letterse from?


    “I told you before, Zephyrine,” Lycannar began softly, as if he could feel my questions tearing me apart. “Not every battle makes it into history… and not every war was meant to be fought. I was a Lycan warlord once, blessed with an army of my own. Not vast, Not less than three hundred and fifty, but feared. Every campaign we led ended in massacre. We always won. Always returned home victorious.”


    I pulled back, staring at him unblinking.


    “My father hardened me from childhood. You can’t imagine the horrors I was forced to endure. Bing a warrior, rising to warlord, was like breathing. Bloodshed was second nature. I started as nothing, a foot soldier. No privilege for being a prince. I wed my way up. Eventually, I earned the warlord’s medal,manded my own men, and led the Blood Army into every battle.” His eyes dimmed, voice edged with bitterness. “But my victories never pleased my father. He feared me. Feared that with men loyal to me, I would rise too high. I will <i>be </i><i>too </i>dangerous So he plotted to strip me of my army… and rid himself of me.”


    “But… these letters. They bear the Demon King’s crest,” I whispered, shaking my head.


    “They’re written in my father’s hand. I would know it anywhere.” His jaw tightened. “I was only sickened that the Demon King, whom I respected, yed along. I had won countless wars for him. I bled for him.” His gaze met mine, heavy with weight. “And you think the portal you sealed was the only one? There’s another, in the Lycan Kingdom itself.”


    My breath caught.


    “W…what?<b>” </b>


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    “Ashmeres were feared. Too dangerous. The Council must have spoken with the Demon King. Together, they made their choice, to erase you Ashmeres. And my army was to vanish with you. So they fixed the battle.”


    “But you


    weren’t there,” I whispered. “A letter came the final day saying the Warlord would not fight.”


    He nodded grimly.


    “The full moon. No matter my strength, on that night, I lose myself. My senses drown in madness, even to those I love. They lock me away until it passes. When I woke, I was told my army had been sent anyway. Without me. ced on the front line, isted from all others. It was a death sentence.”


    I swallowed hard, heart racing.


    “My uncle Ureh brought word. He told me the battle was treachery, that the Werewolves would be betrayed. That my men were already as good as dead. And though I was still raw from the moon, I couldn’t stay away. I donned my armor, mounted my horse, and rode to the field.” His eyes darkened.


    “I arrived to rain arrows ame, flying from Ashmere bows. Your parents were there, fierce and unyielding. True warriors. But by then, every one of my Blood Army was already gone. ughtered before I could reach them.”


    A shiver tore through me. My heart clenched painfully. My family killed his men… and still he has shown me nothing but love.


    “Lycan…” I whispered, my voice breaking.


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