JAX

The news reaches me like the finest wine—Aubrey has successfully infiltrated the kingdom's inner council, positioning herself exactly where I need her most. I lean back in my leather chair, satisfaction warming my chest as I picture her seated among those fools, gathering their secrets while they remain blissfully unaware of the viper in their midst.

My sharpest blade, I think with growing pride. Finally proving herself worthy of everything I've invested in her.

The intelligence she could gather from such a position is invaluable—defense strategies, troop movements, the kingdom's most guarded weaknesses. Perhaps she's finally remembering her true purpose, her debt to me. The thought stirs something almost tender in my chest, a rare warmth reserved only for her.

Maybe it's time for a reward. A kiss, perhaps? A compliment about her progress? I've learned over the years that showing Aubrey even the smallest kindness sends her into raptures of gratitude. Her infatuation has always been painfully obvious, the way she lights up when I acknowledge her efforts, how she trembles with excitement at my slightest approval.

Such a devoted little weapon.

The familiar tap at my window interrupts my pleasant thoughts. I look up to see one of my ravens perched on the sill, but something about its agitated movements suggests urgency rather than routine communication.

When I open the window, the bird doesn't deliver a message—instead, it caws once and takes flight, clearly expecting me to follow. My brow furrows with confusion, but I grab my cloak and head for the door.

The raven leads me to the edge of my property, where a figure waits in the shadows. My breath catches as I recognize the familiar silhouette—Aubrey, her dark hair gleaming in the moonlight as she steps into view.

A satisfied smile spreads across my face. She's taken the initiative to contact me directly, likely unable to contain her excitement about the council meeting. This is exactly the kind of proactive behavior I've been cultivating in her.

"Well, well," I murmur as she approaches. "This is unexpected. You couldn't wait to share your triumph?"

But instead of the eager report I expect, instead of the intelligence gathering I've demanded, Aubrey's first words shatter my satisfaction like glass.

"I need to ask you about the missing young wolves."

The question hits me like a physical blow. Not gratitude for my guidance. Not excitement about her success. Not intelligence about the kingdom's defenses. Instead, she dares to question me about matters that are none of her concern.

Rage builds in my chest like molten lava, white-hot and consuming. This is the betrayal I've sensed growing in her—the way she's been pulling away, questioning my methods, allowing sentiment to cloud her judgment. And beneath the anger, something else burns even hotter: jealousy.

I can smell it on her—Knox's scent, cedar and storm rain clinging to her skin like a brand. She's been with him, close to him, and the evidence of their intimacy makes my vision go red around the edges.

How dare she?

"You dare question me?" My voice drops to something dangerous, deadly. "You come here reeking of that bastard prince, and instead of reporting your mission success, you interrogate me?"

Aubrey takes a step back, clearly sensing the shift in my mood, but it's too late. The rage is already building, demanding satisfaction.

Without warning, I strike. Not physically—I don't need to dirty my hands when I have other tools at my disposal. Pain explodes through our mental connection, the kind of agony that reaches into her very soul and tears at the foundations of her being.

She collapses to her knees with a strangled scream, her hands flying to her temples as I pour every ounce of my fury into the punishment. This disobedient pawn always requires lessons to stay in line, and watching her writhe in agony brings me a twisted sense of pleasure.

This is what defiance costs, I think as her cries echo through the night air. This is the price of questioning your master.

I hold the torture longer than usual, letting it build until her body convulses with the force of it. Only when I'm satisfied that the lesson has been thoroughly learned do I finally release her.

Aubrey crumples to the ground, gasping and shaking, tears streaming down her pale cheeks. Good. Perhaps now she'll remember her place.

"Leave," I command coldly, not bothering to help her to her feet. "And remember this feeling the next time you consider questioning me."

She struggles upright, her movements unsteady, and stumbles away into the darkness without another word. I watch her go with satisfaction, but the moment she disappears from sight, my mind turns to darker considerations.

She's becoming too independent. Too willing to defy me.

The realization settles in my chest like ice. I've been patient, allowing her time to complete the mission, but her growing fondness for Knox threatens everything. I can feel it through our connection—the way her heart races when he's near, the genuine emotion beneath her calculated responses.

No more waiting.

I stride back toward my manor, plans crystallizing with deadly clarity. Rather than risk further betrayal, I'll accelerate everything. The Awakening Ceremony will be the perfect opportunity—when they're all gathered together, vulnerable and focused on their ridiculous ritual.

Strike hard, strike fast, leave none alive.

"Jax." Avery's voice cuts through my murderous thoughts as she materializes from the shadows, her emerald dress rustling against the ground. "You look... displeased."

The witch's violet eyes sparkle with dark amusement as she takes in my expression. She's always been perceptive, able to read my moods with unsettling accuracy.

"Aubrey continues to disappoint," I say simply, not bothering to elaborate on the specifics of tonight's insubordination.

Avery's smile widens, revealing perfect white teeth. "Ah. The little wolf is still fighting her true nature?" She moves closer, her scent—jasmine and something darker—filling the air between us. "Perhaps it's time to strengthen your control over her."

Exactly what I was thinking.

"The preparations?" I ask, knowing she wouldn't have appeared unless she had news.

"Complete," she confirms, pride evident in her voice. "Everything is in place for the ceremony. When the time comes, their precious ritual will become their funeral pyre."

Satisfaction blooms in my chest, warm and vindictive. Soon, everything will be settled. The royal family will pay for their crimes, Knox will die screaming, and Aubrey will finally understand that she belongs to me and me alone.

"Deepen her nightmares," I order, my voice cold as winter. "I want the bloody memories to shatter her will completely. Make her remember every detail of that night, every scream, every drop of spilled blood."

Avery's eyes gleam with malicious delight. "It will be my pleasure. By the time I'm finished with her, she'll be begging for your forgiveness."

A cold smirk spreads across my face as I picture Aubrey broken and desperate, finally understanding that defying me only brings pain. Soon, she'll return to my side willingly, grateful for whatever scraps of affection I choose to offer.

Soon, everything will be as it should be.