The dungeon was a cold, dark place that smelled of old stone and salt. Silas lay on the floor, his wrists pulled high by heavy iron chains. The "Neutralizer" drug was gone now, and without it, the mate bond was returning like a fire in his veins. Every time he breathed, he felt a sharp longing for Alaric. It was a physical ache, a need for the warmth of the man he had tried so hard to leave behind.
"Alaric," Silas whispered, his head leaning against the cold wall.
He remembered the palace now, but it didn't feel like a cage anymore. Compared to this damp, dirty hole, the palace was a paradise. He realized that Alaric had treated him with respect, even when Silas was being difficult. Here, in his own father's house, he was being treated like a piece of meat to be sold.
The heavy door at the top of the stairs opened. Julian walked down, his expensive boots clicking against the stone. He was carrying a small box and a glass of water, but he didn't offer any to Silas.
"Still awake, I see," Julian said, his voice cold and mean. "You always were the strongest of us, Silas. But strength won't help you now."
Silas lifted his head, his eyes blurry. "Why did Alaric let you go, Julian? Tell me the truth."
Julian laughed, reaching into the box to pull out a long, thin needle. "The Prince is smarter than you think. He didn't release me because he felt sorry for me. He released me because he knew I would bring you here. He wanted you to see that your 'family' would betray you the first chance they got. He wanted to break your spirit so you would have nowhere else to go but back to his bed."
Julian stepped closer, grabbing Silas by the chin. "He was right, of course. The Duke is already talking to the Southern Faction. They want a marked mate to study. They want to know how Alaric's power works so they can kill him. And you are the key."
Julian pushed the needle into Silas's neck, right next to the glowing royal mark. Silas let out a raw, jagged scream that echoed through the dark hallway. The needle wasn't just medicine; it was a stimulant. It was designed to force the mate bond to "wake up" and stay open, causing Silas intense pain while making his location visible to anyone with the right sensors.
"Scream for him, Silas," Julian hissed. "Let your Prince hear you suffering. Let him come to save you. We've built a trap for him, too."
Miles Away: The Royal Command Center
Alaric was standing in the middle of the war room, his eyes fixed on the empty maps. He had been silent for hours, his presence so heavy that his generals were afraid to speak.
Suddenly, Alaric gasped. He slumped to one knee, his hand flying to his chest. A wave of pure, white-hot agony washed over him. It wasn't his own pain—it was Silas's. Through the bond, he could feel the cold stone, the metal chains, and the sharp bite of the needle in Silas's neck.
"Your Highness!" a general shouted, rushing toward him. "Are you hurt?"
Alaric stood up slowly. His eyes were no longer brown. They were a glowing, lethal midnight blue—the color of an Alpha whose mate was being tortured. The power coming off him was so strong that the glass screens on the wall began to flicker and crack.
"They are hurting him," Alaric said. His voice was a low growl that shook the floor. "My ghost is screaming."
"Sir, we have a location!" a technician shouted. "The signal is coming from the Vane Fortress in the North. It's a distress signal from the mate bond."
Alaric didn't wait for a plan. He didn't wait for his armor. He walked to the weapon rack and grabbed his tactical blade, the steel gleaming in the dim light.
"Prepare the Black Hawks," Alaric commanded. "No stealth. No warnings. We are going to the North to bring him home."
"Sir, the Duke's land is protected by treaty," the General argued. "If we attack, it's an act of war!"
Alaric turned, his face like a mask of death. "Then let it be war. I gave them a chance to be a family to him. They chose to be monsters. Now, I will show them what a real monster looks like when someone touches what belongs to him."
He walked out of the room, his black cape billowing behind him. He wasn't the "Kind Prince" anymore. He was the Hunter, and the North was about to burn.