Chapter 1213

Chapter 1213:

“Understood,” I whispered, giving a curt nod. My heartbeat hammered against my ribs, wild and relentless. Every footfall felt deafening, though I barely made a sound. I moved with precision, every motion laced with dread.

Jett’s face flashed through my mind—bruised, bloodied, barely conscious. The thought twisted something deep in my chest.

I had to find him. I had to get him out. Even if it cost me everything.

We ducked behind hedges, crept along stone walls, weaving through blind spots in the patrols until we finally reached the castle’s side wing—a narrow passage leading to the basement door.

A gust of damp, musty air rolled out from below as we approached. The moment we stepped inside, something primal stirred within me. My pulse quickened. My fingers curled into fists.

And then—I saw him. Curled in the corner, a figure lay motionless, slumped in the shadows. His silhouette struck a familiar chord in my chest—the line of his shoulders, the fall of his hair. It had to be Jett.

“Jett!”

The name tore from my throat, sharp with hope and pain. I surged forward, boots pounding against the stone. But as I reached him, the truth hit me like a gut punch.

It wasn’t Jett.

“Damn it, we walked right into a trap!” Dominic’s voice exploded behind me. His stance shifted instantly, blades drawn, eyes scanning the walls and corners with sharpened focus.

Before his words were even fully out, torches flared to life all around us, blinding in their suddenness. I flinched, my eyes snapping shut, momentarily stunned by the blaze.

Dozens of Wizard Clan soldiers poured in from all sides, forming an unbreakable wall of bodies, weapons gleaming under the firelight. The man I had mistaken for Jett sprang up with a snarl, pulling a dagger from his sleeve. He lunged straight at me.

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I barely had time to react. My instincts kicked in, and I twisted, dodging to the side just as the blade sliced past.

Before I could recover, Alden stepped between us like lightning, his foot snapping out in a clean arc that caught the attacker square in the chest. The man stumbled back, crashing into the wall behind him.

Then, from the ring of soldiers, a figure stepped forward. Antoni. He walked with leisurely arrogance, each step radiating smug satisfaction. That smile—the one he wore when he thought he was clever—spread across his face like oil.

“Makenna,” he cooed mockingly. “You really fell right into it.”

My blood turned to ice. Of course, it was him. All of this had been a setup.

“Antoni Harrison! You bastard!” I snarled his name through gritted teeth. “Where is Jett?”

He stopped a few feet away, regarding us as though we were insects under glass. “You actually believed such a pathetic little mission could free him?” he sneered. “How naive you are!”

Bryan stepped protectively in front of me, one hand raised to push me back. His eyes were steel. “You traitorous bastard. You will regret this.”

Antoni’s laugh was short and sharp. “Traitor? Please. I simply sided with strength.”

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