Their Hidden Princess (Zora) novel Chapter 94

**Valentin**

**Two Years Into the Great War**

As the sun dipped low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the land, the wolves stood poised at the castle gates, a formidable formation awaiting the oncoming tide of battle. Their anticipation crackled in the air like static electricity. Those who had mastered the art of controlling their transformations were at the forefront, their powerful wolf forms emanating raw energy. They snarled menacingly, drool glistening on their fangs as they pawed the ground, ready to pounce. Behind them, the rest of their pack donned gleaming gold armor, which shimmered brilliantly in the fading sunlight, creating a dazzling display of rainbows that arched into the sky.

In the very center of this fierce assembly stood Victoria, clad from head to toe in radiant gold. Her wild red curls had been meticulously braided back, tucked neatly beneath a protective helm. The armor on her shoulders was adorned with wickedly sharp daggers, glinting in the sunlight, each blade honed to perfection, designed to inflict maximum damage upon the vampires they were about to face.

To her right, Valentin stood resolute, encased in his own suit of armor. His hair was slicked back, save for a single ash-brown strand that danced in the wind, betraying his otherwise composed demeanor. Clutched tightly in his hand was a sunlight blade, forged by the wolves who possessed the greatest affinity for the magiks. It felt heavy and powerful, yet he found himself glancing over his shoulder repeatedly, a nagging hope blossoming within him that Zahara would emerge from the castle, ready to join the fray.

“Look ahead!” Moonraiser’s voice boomed from atop a tower, his keen eyes scanning the horizon. “Dark cloud approaching from true north!”

Indeed, a swirling mass of darkness surged through the sky, a chaotic flurry that skidded and faltered before cresting the hill, hurtling directly towards the castle gates.

“Incoming!” Moonraiser shouted, urgency lacing his tone. “Brace yourselves!”

In an instant, the dark cloud dissipated, revealing a swarm of pale, red-eyed figures racing toward them with terrifying speed. Valentin tightened his grip on his weapon, instinctively dropping into the defensive stance that Moonraiser had drilled into him time and again.

The vampires reached the gates, crashing through them with a single, devastating blow. The wolves surged forward, a cacophony of silver and gold as bodies collided, chaos erupting in every direction. Valentin’s blade found its mark, slicing cleanly through the neck of one vampire, his head spinning away in a grotesque arc.

However, as the next vampire lunged at him, it veered too close to the sunlight streaming in from the west. The moment it touched the rays, it shriveled into a pile of ash at Valentin’s feet, leaving him momentarily breathless with disbelief.

He quickly scanned the battlefield, searching for allies amidst the turmoil. It seemed that the vampires had all retreated into the shadows, each one succumbing to the relentless light of the setting sun, crumbling into dust before the wolves’ eyes. One by one, they fled into the sunlight until none remained.

Valentin turned sharply, his heart pounding as he sought out Blythwitch across the field. Their eyes met, an unspoken question hanging in the air between them.

“Is that it?” Blythwitch muttered, disbelief etched across his features.

They stood in tense silence, the sun’s timer ticking away as it sank behind the treeline. Just as darkness began to envelop them, the second wave of vampires struck, stronger and more ferocious than before.

From the treetops beyond the shattered gate, they descended like a flock of predatory birds, landing atop several wolves in the front line. With a mere flick of their wrists, they snapped necks, leaving the fallen wolves in a gruesome heap of fur and blood.

Valentin fought valiantly, grounding several vampires that came at him, sustaining only a few scratches in return. But it felt as though he were trapped in a never-ending cycle of combat. Just when he thought he could catch his breath, another vampire would spring forth, snarling and snapping at him or Victoria. He pushed himself harder, wielding his sword like a battering ram, but the effort seemed futile.

In a moment of desperation, he slashed at a vampire attempting to claw its way up Victoria’s back, but a sudden, searing pain shot through his skull, as if a hot arrow had pierced his mind.

His sword clattered to the ground as he cradled his pounding head, collapsing to his knees. A scream tore itself from his throat as the agony engulfed him, wrapping around his body like a vice. It felt as if something was tearing him apart from the inside. As the pain began to ebb, one name echoed in his mind: Zahara.

“Victoria!” he roared, scrambling to his feet and snatching up his sword once more. “VICTORIA!”

Their eyes locked as she thrust her blade into a vampire, but he could see the instant her spirit faltered. He couldn’t hear her words, but the shape of her lips formed a single, heartbreaking response.

“No.”

Without a second thought, she darted toward the side of the castle, and Valentin followed, heart racing, dread coiling in his stomach. They fought through the remaining straggling vampires, bursting into the dense trees of the southern forest. Valentin’s heart hammered in his chest, the mantra echoing in his mind like a desperate prayer.

Please be alive. Please be alive. Just live.

Victoria skidded to a halt, and Valentin crashed into her back, their bodies tumbling to the ground in a chaotic mess of gold and limbs. Dazed, he glanced up to see what had caused her sudden stop.

In the distance lay a carriage, tipped onto its side. The horse at the front lay limp, blood pooling beneath its lifeless body. Beside the carriage were two figures: one with limp, pale hands, and the other with cascading dark hair, flowing down the back of its silver armor. The armored figure appeared to cradle the limp form, but Valentin’s instincts screamed otherwise.

Then, a brilliant flash of light erupted, banishing the darkness. The weight on his chest vanished, and he gasped for air, turning his head toward the source of the radiance. When he opened his eyes, he was met with a sight that took his breath away.

Victoria stood before him, enveloped in sunlight, as if she were a celestial being. Her skin glowed, radiant and free of any armor, as she approached her enemy with unwavering resolve. Her eyes, once filled with warmth, now burned with an intensity that could pierce the very fabric of night.

Renault scrambled to escape the blinding rays, but the light pinned him against the castle wall, smoke curling from his skin as he writhed in agony. His snarls filled the air, a desperate plea for freedom as Victoria advanced.

“You-fucking-cunt!” he spat, his voice laced with rage.

“The wolves will be enslaved no longer,” Victoria declared, but her voice had transformed, resonating with an otherworldly echo that reverberated through the forest. Valentin blinked in disbelief, struggling to comprehend the power emanating from her.

“Nature requires balance,” she continued, her sunlit form shimmering like a beacon. “You have been in charge for far too long, Renault Saint Claire. That ends now.”

“You can’t kill me!” Renault shouted, panic flickering in his eyes. “I am the King of Vampires!”

With a swift motion, Victoria twisted her wrist, conjuring a ball of sunlight that pulsed with raw energy. She raised it high, watching as Renault’s eyes widened in fear, a smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

“A King must be destroyed by a Queen,” she pronounced, her voice dripping with authority. “And that, I am.”

With that, she hurled the ball of light at Renault. His strangled cries echoed in the air, growing louder as the sunlight expanded, blinding Valentin momentarily. He squeezed his eyes shut, bracing himself against the impending explosion.

When he finally opened his eyes, the light had receded, and a hand gently pressed against the side of his face. Blinking through the remnants of brightness, he looked up to see the familiar crown of unruly red curls.

“Is it over?” he croaked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s over,” Victoria replied softly, her expression a mix of relief and sorrow. “He’s gone.”