Page 73 of The Panther's Price

Lucien’s voice went low. “Then we hunt.”

THIRTY-THREE

LUCIEN

Lucien knew the Keep like he knew his own heartbeat.

But the corridors felt different now—twisted, breathing with the pulse of old magic. The stone whispered lies. The air hummed with spells laid centuries before either he or Evryn had drawn breath.

Still, he followed her scent.

Wild, charged. Laced with steel and blood.

And something else now.

Power.

She had changed and the world was changing with her.

They climbed the last set of stairs side by side, their shadows merging with the flickering sconces lining the path to the throne chamber. His fingers brushed hers once as they neared the towering obsidian doors.

She turned slightly.

“I’ll kill her,” Evryn said.

Lucien looked at her, his chest aching. “Not alone.”

Then they pushed the doors open.

The throne room was as dark as a starless sky.

Queen Selyne sat atop the onyx dais, her throne carved with a hundred runes no one living could read. Behind her, the Veilshimmered—a tear in reality rippling like water. Its edges pulsed with the color of nightmares.

She stood slowly.

Lucien felt the cold seep through his bones before she even moved.

“Lucien,” she said, voice velvet and venom. “Still loyal. Even now.”

He said nothing.

Selyne’s gaze shifted to Evryn.

“And you. The stray. The storm. Look what you’ve become.”

Evryn’s power stirred like a tide, wrapping around her like a cloak. But she said nothing either.

“You’ve always been too sentimental, my son,” Selyne murmured. “Toosoft. I warned you.”

Lucien stepped forward. “You tortured her.”

“I prepared her,” she replied. “The throne demands suffering. Blood. You were never strong enough to understand.”

“And Cassian is?” Lucien growled.

She smiled, cruel and slow. “Cassian is many things. But not what you are.”

She stepped down from the dais, the Veil hissing behind her.

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