Chapter 121

Emily’s POV

Morning in the rogue castle always felt wrong. I had just finished dressing when my door swung open without a knock. Declan walked in, dressed in his usual black. His eyes found me instantly. They always did.

“There you are.”

He spoke like he’d been searching for me all morning. Maybe he had. I crossed my arms, my face like stone.

“What now?”

A corner of his mouth pulled upward. “Breakfast.”

I almost laughed. At this point, our morning meals had become a twisted domestic routine. I followed him inyway, mostly because refusing him only made him more persistent.

The great hall was crowded when we entered. Long black tables stretched under heavy chandeliers, filled with the ow hum of rogues and the clatter of silverware. But the second Declan stepped inside, the noise died. Heads Iropped immediately. It was a mix of fear and respect.

Declan led me to the head of the table and pulled out the chair right beside his. Not across from him. Beside him.

Like I was part of his throne.

‘Sit.”

I hated how naturally everyone obeyed him. I sat down stiffly as servants rushed forward with trays of bread, ruit, and meat. The smell made my stomach turn. Declan noticed.

“You’re not eating.”

“I’m fine.”

“No,” he said calmly. “You’re not.”

Before I could move, he picked up a spoon, dipped it into a bowl of cream and berries, and held it to my lips. I tared at him. The entire hall was watching us.

“You’ve officially lost it,” I muttered.

A dark smile tugged at his lips. “Probably.”

He moved the spoon closer. “Open up, little wolf.”

I wanted to kill him. Instead, with every rogue in the room staring, I snatched the spoon from his hand and ate it nyself just to make him stop. Declan looked delighted, like annoying me was his favorite hobby.

The bastard.

For a few minutes, he let me eat. Or at least, as much as I could with his eyes constantly dragging across my face.

1.2. 1.

1:34 pm P PTM

Hroze. “Declan.”

“What?”

“You know exactly what.”

His thumb stroked higher. Dangerously high

“You’re tense today,” he murmured.

I grabbed his wrist hard under the table as the warmth started to run through me. That bastard mark.

‘Stop.”

Instead of stopping, he stood up abruptly. The room went silent again.

Before I could react, he hooked an arm around my waist and lifted me straight into his lap. A few servants

mmediately looked away. Smart cowards.

‘Declan!”

His arm locked around me, his other hand sliding up my stomach possessively.

“You smell good today.”

My pulse stumbled. No. No, no, no.

He leaned in, his nose brushing against the skin of my neck. He took a long, slow breath. Then another.

Suddenly, his entire body went rigid. The change was instant–sharp and predatory.

“…What is that?”

Ice spread through my chest. “What?”

୮

Declan pulled back just enough to look at me, his eyes narrowing as he inhaled again near my hair.

“Your scent changed.”

My heartbeat was so loud it was deafening. “It didn’t.”

“Yes.” His voice dropped to a low, dangerous edge. “It did.”

He took another breath, longer this time.

“Strawberries,” he whispered, his fingers tightening against my waist. “But there’s something else now.”

He slowly lifted his gaze to mine, his eyes searching.

‘Mint.”

1:34 pm P PTM

Shit

Maybe it’s the Phantom Wolf scent. My brain went into overdrive. Think. Think fast.

“I don’t know,” I lied, my voice steady. “Maybe I’m getting sick.”

Declan didn’t answer. He just stared at me. The silence was heavy and dangerous.

“No.” His gaze sharpened, cutting through me. “This feels like the consequences of the last trial.”

Well. That was worse.

“Maybe I should see a doctor?” I suggested, trying to sound helpful.

Declan leaned in. “This feels like witch business.”

A cold knot twisted in my stomach. Good. That was exactly where I needed him to take me.

Deelan kept his eyes on me for another long moment before snapping his fingers at a servant. The girl had a silver

ribbon tied around her throat.

“Bring the witch.”

The girl bowed and hurried out of the hall.

She returned minutes later, visibly trembling.

“My king…” she whispered. “The witch is busy right now.”

now.”

Declan’s expression darkened. The girl flinched, looking like she wanted to run.

“She asks if… if you could come to her chambers instead.”

For a heartbeat, Declan said nothing. Then he stood up, still holding me tight against him.

“Fine.” His fingers locked around my wrist. “You’re coming with me.”

୮

The witch’s chambers were hidden deep beneath the castle. The further down we went, the colder the air became. By the time we reached the underground rooms, the air was thick with the smell of herbs, smoke, and old magic.

Shelves lined every wall, packed with glass jars, bones, and bottles of dark liquid. And there–in the far corner was a cabinet filled with black glass vials.

My pulse jumped. Beatrice’s blood. It had to be in there.

The witch looked not pleasant for disturbing her.

“Sit,” she barked.

I sat. She grabbed a bundle of burning sage and began circling me, whispering in a language I didn’t recognize.

1:34 pm PPTM

Deelan stood nearby watching us both carefully.

The witch frowned. Then her frown deepened.

…Strange.”

My stomach tightened. Could she see the phantom wolf? Could she feel it?

She circled the smoke around me one last time before stepping back. “I don’t see anything wrong.”

Declan’s face twisted with rage. “Then why did her scent change?”

“She’s still suppressed,” the witch said, glancing at my silver collar. “The wolf is under control. Nothing appears

instable.”

That was the wrong answer.

Declan exploded. He slammed his arm across a nearby table, sending books and jars crashing to the floor. The vitch jumped back.

“If her scent changed,” Declan growled, his voice vibrating with power, “then something changed.”

The entire room seemed to shake with his anger.

“Figure it out.”

The witch swallowed hard. Declan stepped toward her, his posture a clear threat.

“I’ll be back in an hour.” His voice dropped to a low, lethal edge. “You’d better have answers by then.”

He turned and stormed out of the room. The second the door slammed shut, the heavy silence returned. The vitch groaned, slowly bending down to pick up the mess on the floor.

“Stupid, psychotic royals,” she muttered. “I’m too old for this nonsense. My back is killing me.”

She kept muttering to herself, distracted by the broken glass on the floor.

୮

I saw a cauldron bubbling on the table nearby. Moving quickly, I grabbed whatever was closest–dried animal paws ind strange herbs–and threw them into the liquid. It started to bubble violently.

Watching the witch as she continued to clean the floor, I grabbed two more jars and poured their contents inte he pot.

Oops, I definitely overdid it.

Suddenly, the black liquid hissed. Smoke exploded toward the ceiling. The witch let out a loud curse.

“Oh, what a ” She barked something in a language I didn’t know and rushed toward the table as thick, dark liquid spilled over the sides and onto the floor.

1:34 pm P

She slapped both hands against the cauldron, trying to stabilize the magic. “You!” she snapped, pointing a Crooked finger at me. “Don’t move!”

She turned toward her shelves, digging through jars and muttering to herself. “Where is it… where did I put it…”

She disappeared through a doorway into a back room. From the shadows, I heard her grumbling, “Where is that

old broom?”

The second she vanished, I moved.

The massive cabinet stood slightly open against the wall. Black glass vials lined every shelf. There were dozens of

hem, with names scratched into silver labels.

I stepped closer, my eyes scanning the rows.

Ava. Claire. Maeve. Lydia.

My hands shook. Come on. Come on-

“Interesting little thing, aren’t you?” The witch’s voice came. My blood turned to ice.