Side by Side.

Corrine stared at Fiona, unease curling through her like creeping frost. She reacted to someone else's presence… at the same time as Vangelis.

Her mind raced to piece together what was happening, but the growing dread in her chest made it hard to think.

"Corrine! Corrine! Corrine!"

Phoenix's voice thundered down the staircase, filled with irritation. His boots clicked sharply against the marble as he descended, his piercing gaze locking onto her.

"How many times do you want me to call you?" he demanded, exasperation threading his tone.

Before Corrine could respond, Fiona's attention snapped toward Phoenix. Her crimson eyes widened, and then—

They flashed blue.

Corrine's breath hitched. Again?"Sapphire," both Phoenix and Vangelis murmured in unison.

Fiona's entire body tensed. Her hands trembled at her sides as if she was fighting something unseen. Then, as though responding to an unspoken command, her left eye remained an eerie sapphire while her right eye darkened back to red.

A shared recognition sparked in the air.

Fiona gasped, stumbling back. Her hands flew to her temples, her breath coming in short, shallow pants.

"My head…" she groaned.

Then, before anyone could react, she collapsed.

"Go and get the potion!" Valeria commanded, her tone sharp with urgency.

Corrine hesitated, but one look at Fiona's pale, unconscious form sent her into motion. She bowed slightly before hurrying away.

The dim candlelight flickered as Corrine entered the kitchen. She retrieved the potion from the shelf, staring at the shimmering liquid.

Will she even need this?

The momentary doubt gnawed at her, but she had no time to dwell on it.

"What are you standing there for?"

The deep, taunting voice sent a shiver down her spine.

She turned, finding Phoenix leaning casually against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest. His lips curled into a smirk, but his gaze was unreadable—calculating.

Phoenix had always been dangerous. He was the type who could speak softly yet deliver a fatal blow without hesitation.

"I'm going," she stammered, gripping the potion tightly.

But before she could move past him, he stepped in her way, his tall frame blocking the exit.

"How are you doing, Corrine?" His voice was smooth, but the amusement in his eyes was anything but kind.

Corrine forced an eye-roll, feigning nonchalance. "I have to attend to my sister-in-law," she muttered, attempting to sidestep him.

But Phoenix wasn't finished.

His smirk widened, his words slow and deliberate. "How have the visiting hours with your brother been? Or should I say—the prisoner?"

Her breath caught.

A cold wave of fear washed over her.

Phoenix knew.

She didn't dare look at him.

Her brother had taken the fall for her, willingly accepting punishment to protect her after their failed plan to seize control of the pack's resources. He had been locked away ever since.

"I… I will go now," she said shakily.

Phoenix leaned in slightly, his voice lowering into a lethal whisper.

"Not so fast, Corrine."

She stiffened.

"Keep everything you saw today to yourself, or I'll personally see to it that your brother's execution is carried out."

Her stomach clenched.

Before she could process the weight of his threat, he reached for her pendant—the one her brother had given her before his imprisonment.

With an effortless flick of his fingers, he yanked it from her neck and let it fall to the stone floor.

Then, with a slow, deliberate motion, he crushed it beneath his boot.

"You won't be seeing him again," he said flatly before turning and walking away.

"Good morning, Miss Roxanne," the maid greeted politely as she led Roxanne to Fiona's room.

Roxanne clenched her fists, her jaw tight as she surveyed the neatly arranged belongings.

Why should I be the one packing for her? Why does she get a new home, a new life, while I—

Her thoughts cut off abruptly, a painful lump forming in her throat.

No. She refused to let herself break.

"You won't win, Fiona," she whispered venomously. "I'll make sure you don't even get the chance to breathe."

"Roxanne."

The soft voice made her tense.

She turned sharply, coming face to face with Corrine.

Corrine stepped closer, leaning in to whisper something in Roxanne's ear before walking away. Whatever she had said left a strange, lingering weight in the air.

Roxanne inhaled deeply, forcing herself to focus.

She grabbed the bags, dragging them down the stairs—too quickly. Her foot caught on the last step, and she lost her balance.

A startled gasp escaped her lips—

And then she wasn't falling.

Warmth encased her.

When she opened her eyes, she found herself cradled in strong arms, her face pressed against a firm chest.

Vangelis.

His golden eyes studied her with mild amusement, his grip steady as he held her in a protective embrace.

"Why don't you have a talent, my lady?" he asked in his usual composed voice.

Roxanne swallowed hard and quickly pulled away, lowering her gaze.

"I don't, my King. I was never given the opportunity," she admitted quietly. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"You didn't," he said simply.

She grabbed the bags before he could offer assistance, shaking her head. "If I don't do this, I'll be deprived of food or beaten like a slave. I am a slave—I do what slaves do."

A firm hand landed on her shoulder, stopping her.

"Forget what they say." His tone was softer now, more personal. "Embrace yourself. Who told you that you're not special?"

She looked up, eyes widening slightly.

"Even without magic," he continued, "you are special in your own way."

He turned and walked away, leaving her standing there, her heart pounding for reasons she didn't fully understand.

"Roxanne, why do you look so lost?" Hazel asked, raising an eyebrow. "You look... different. You've been smiling since you got here."

Roxanne let out a bitter laugh.

"Someone actually looked at me without searching for magic or talent. He called me special. He stopped me from getting hurt and comforted me." She swallowed hard, lowering her voice. "I know my feelings for him are growing, but I can't act on them. He's Fiona's husband."

Hazel smirked. "We'll deal with that later. For now, let's focus on our plan."

Roxanne inhaled deeply, forcing herself to focus. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small bundle of fur strands.

She placed them into Hazel's palm.

"Manifest the strands," she instructed, "and retrieve the information we need."

Hazel's eyes gleamed with dark intent as she began the ritual.

The night was far from over.