Chapter 40
CHAPTER 40
“My wife has a tattoo on her ankle too. As per the woman in your arms p>
For a split second, everything inside me turns cold.
Shit.
I instinctively try to curl my ankle inward, but too late–Wade’s already seen it. His voice hangs in the air, heavy, suspicious, and I feel the sharp inhale of a hundred wolves as the implication settles like a bloody carcass in a room full of predators.
Before Alaric can say anything, Ariel grabs Wade’s arm like a rabid chihuahua on a leash. “What the hell are you doing?” she hisses, loud enough for the closest wolves to hear. Her eyes dart nervously between Alaric and Wade. “Are you out of your damn mind p>
Wade blinks at her, confused–then it’s like she throws a bucket of freezing water over him. His posture falters, his face slackens. “I… I was wrong,” he stammers quickly, stepping back as if he’s suddenly realized he just poked a sleeping volcano with a stick.
Yeah. Back the fuck up, traitor.
Alaric finally looks down at me. I don’t need words to understand him. His gaze is sharp, burning gold, pinning me where I am. My breath catches, chest rising and falling too fast. I shake my head minutely–don’t let them find me. My fingers clutch his coat tighter around me though it’s armor, like if I hide well enough, the past won‘ t reach me here.
His jaw flexes. Then–almost imperceptibly–he shakes his head back. No one’s touching me. The silent promise in his eyes is ironclad, and for the first time in a long time, the panic inside me stutters.
Alaric turns toward the crowd, his chest expanding as his aura unfurls like a stormcloud. It rolls through the room, thick and suffocating, pressing down on every spine until no one dares look up. I bury my face in his chest, hiding in his scent, my heart beating against his like a frantic drum. His voice drops low, smooth and lethal.
“From this moment,” he announces, each word echoing off the marble, “no one enters my chambers without my explicit permission. No guards. No servants. No one. If you so much as breathe near that door without my call-” he pauses, letting the silence stretch like a blade at a throat, “-you will regret it p>
A shiver goes through the crowd like a ripple through still water. Someone swallows audibly. Another wolf lowers his head further. His voice isn’t loud, but it doesn’t need to be. The Alpha King doesn’t make threats–he delivers consequences.
When I finally risk a glance through the curtain of his coat, Wade and Ariel are gone. They just vanished. Cowards. Typical.
Then he turns, and the sea of bodies parts wordlessly as he strides toward the grand staircase. I can feel every single pair of eyes tracking us. The Lycan King, blood still drying on his skin, carrying a half–naked, masked woman into his private chambers like a scene straight out of some twisted fairy tale. My pulse refuses to settle.
The steps are wide, polished, reflecting the soft golden light of the chandeliers above. My bare feet peek out from under the coat, brushing against the fabric of his dark pants with every step. His arm under my knees is unyielding; his hold around my back is secure but careful, like I’m something precious and fragile–not the bleeding, half–shifting mess I actually am.
He pushes the double doors open with his shoulder, not even slowing his pace, and the heavy wood slams shut behind us with a low, resounding thud.
His chambers are massive–of course they are. High ceilings, arched windows draped in dark velvet curtains, golden light spilling across black marble floors. The scent of cedarwood and smoke lingers thick in the air, clinging to every inch of this space like him.
He crosses the room and lowers me onto the bed the black silk sheets cool against my overheated skin. The
Successfully unlocked!
1/4
CHAPTER 40
weight of the coat pools around me like a dark wave. My leg throbs where the rogue’s teeth sank in earlier, and now that the adrenaline’s wearing off, it hurts like hell.
He doesn’t say a word. Just straightens, blood drying on his hands, his jaw locked, his gaze unreadable. The silence between us grows heavier by the second.
He turns, as if to leave, and panic spikes through me before I can stop it. My hand shoots out, catching his wrist. “Where are you going?” The words come out softer than I intended, edged with exhaustion and fear I can’t mask.
He looks down at where my fingers are wrapped around him, then back up at me. The unreadable mask doesn‘ t crack, but his voice does come–deep, low, steady. “I’m not leaving,” he says. “But you need to be cleaned up. And that wound-” his eyes flick to my leg, narrowing, “-needs attention before you lose more blood.” Before I can even respond, he moves to the door and calls for omegas. “Tully. Marg. Headmaid Gerda. Now. ” The door opens just enough to let them in. The three women bustle through, their heads bowed out of habit. The moment their eyes land on me sitting on the Alpha King’s bed wrapped in his coat, though–the atmosphere changes.
Tully’s jaw drops. “Holy shit,” she blurts before slapping a hand over her mouth. “Sorin p>
Marg doesn’t speak, but her eyes widen, her usually stoic face cracking into something between shock and disbelief. Gerda–the headmaid, yes I have now learned her name, old as dirt and twice as sharp–marches straight over to me. She doesn’t stop to curtsy. Doesn’t even hesitate.
She smacks me on the arm. Hard.
“Girl!” she scolds like a grandmother catching her kid sneaking out after midnight. “What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, huh? You think this is funny? Making us all think you’ve disappeared, and then- poof!-you show up naked in the King’s chambers like it’s some kind of joke p>
I gape at her. “I–what–headmaid, I’m not–this isn’t-” I look down at myself, then at the room, then at the women, and let out a dry, incredulous laugh. “Do you think I planned this? You think I wanted to play mystery slut of the masquerade night? Because trust me, if I had a choice, I’d be anywhere else p>
Tully lets out a squeal that’s somewhere between hysterical laughter and disbelief. “Oh my goddess, Sorin. You’re her. You’re the one the moon chose. The King’s woman tonight is- ” she flails a hand at me “—you p>
“I wish it wasn’t,” I mutter under my breath. “Trust me. No one’s more confused than me right now p>
Gerda crosses her arms, narrowing her eyes at me like I’m a teenager who came home past curfew. “The Goddess has some strange sense of humor,” she grumbles. “Choosing you over that Camila woman. That snake’s been running this place like a Luna for years p>
I snort. “Yeah. Tell me about it p>
The old headmaid’s sigh is loud enough to slice through the room. She presses her wrinkled fingers against her temple like I’m already giving her a migraine. Tully bounces over before I can say a damn thing, her blonde curls bobbing with way too much enthusiasm for someone standing in a room that smells faintly of blood
and rose oil.
“Oh my Goddess–wait, that explains everything!” she blurts, snapping her fingers. “That’s why you disappeared mid–party! I was looking for you because something was off with the dinner table centerpieces- ”
Marg smacks the back of her head, hard. “Not now, you idiot p>
Tully yelps, rubbing the spot. “Ow! I was just saying p>
“Shut up.” Marg’s glare could melt steel. She turns to the headmaid, her jet–black braid swinging behind her. ” What are we supposed to do with her p>
The old woman clears her throat, voice rasping but firm. “The Alpha King ordered for her to be cleaned up.” Her sharp gaze cuts to me like I’m some dirty plate that needs polishing. “Properly p>
The air shifts. Tully practically vibrates with glee, grabbing a cloth and a bottle of what smells like lavender oil. Marg rolls her eyes but joins in, dragging a stool toward the tub with exaggerated groans. “This is so weird p>
2/4
CHAPTER 40
she mutters under her breath. “We usually clean with you, not clean you p>
“Stop complaining,” Tully chirps, already undoing the ties of my filthy, torn dress. “Do you know how honored you are? You’re going to spend the night with the Alpha King. The Goddess chose you. And by Imperial law, that means-” she wiggles her eyebrows- “tonight’s the night p>
I choke. “Excuse me p>
“Oh yeah,” she goes on, oblivious to my horrified stare. “You have to consummate the bond tonight. Everyone’s buzzing about it. This hasn’t happened in, like, a hundred years. The Goddess hasn’t chosen anyone since forever p>
Marg makes a gagging sound. “Ugh. You’re disgusting p>
Tully flips her hair. “You’re just jealous p>
I stare between them, my head spinning. “I didn’t even say yes to this,” I snap. “Is this really how it works here? No choice? Just–congratulations, you’re the King’s new broodmare p>
Tully just shrugs, like this is Tuesday. “You should be flattered. Do you know how many women would kill to be chosen by the Goddess? It’s destiny, Sorin p>
The old maid suddenly clears her throat. The sound is like a whip crack. Both girls freeze mid–motion. She straightens, regal despite her age, and tilts my chin up with bony fingers. Her pale eyes bore into mine. “The Goddess does not make mistakes,” she says slowly. “She must have chosen you for a reason. Remember that p>
The words settle heavy in the steamy air. Then she releases me, steps back, and gestures toward the tub. ” Bathe. We’ll leave you to think about it p>
Tully gives me a little squeal of excitement before they both file out, leaving me alone with scented oils, steaming water, and the sound of my heartbeat hammering in my ears.
I let out a long, shaky breath. “The Goddess must have chosen you for a reason,” I mock under my breath.” Yeah, right p>
Why the hell would the Goddess pair me with him? Alaric Hayes. The Alpha King. The walking embodiment of power and danger with a jawline that looks carved out of stone and eyes that strip you down to your bones.
He’s been circling me like a wolf since the moment we crossed paths back in the pack. But that was before- before everything was burned to ash. I’m no longer Luna of Woodridge. I have nothing. No title. No pack. No name worth anything.
Why would he want me now?
I can’t stay here. I have to clear my name, find out what Wade lied about my father’s death when he banished me. I can’t get trapped in his golden cage.
I lift my leg carefully out of the water–it’s bandaged now, the wound cleaned and wrapped. The skin tingles from whatever healing salve they rubbed in. I rest it on the edge of the tub so the bandages stay dry. The water’s still warm, scented with roses and cedarwood. It clings to my skin as I push myself up, wrapping the towel tight around my body.
The bathroom is ridiculous. The walls are marble, streaked with gold veins, like someone decided subtlety was overrated. A chandelier hangs above the tub, throwing warm light across the polished floor. The air smells faintly of sandalwood, the same scent that clings to Alaric’s skin.
I limp toward the bedroom. The moment I step out, my breath catches.
It’s not a bedroom. It’s a goddamn palace.
The ceilings stretch high, draped in thick velvet curtains that fall like waterfalls. Gold filigree crawls across the walls. There’s a massive four–poster bed in the center, carved dark wood with silk sheets that probably cost more than my entire house back in Woodridge. Every surface gleams. It’s both ancient and modern, like some Victorian king decided to hire a luxury interior designer.
My bare feet sink into a plush rug. The room smells faintly of smoke and amber–the Alpha King’s scent, everywhere, clinging to the air like an invisible hand.
CHAPTER 40
Then I see it.
Laid neatly on the bed is a single outfit.
If you can call it that.
Black silk lingerie. Delicate. Barely–there. Definitely meant for one purpose.
I blink at it. Once. Twice. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me p>
The headmaid’s words echo in my skull. Consummate the bond. Chosen by the Goddess.
I clutch the towel tighter around me, heart pounding so loud it echoes in the cavernous room. My pulse
thrums in my wrists. The lingerie catches the chandelier light, the fabric shimmering like it’s mocking me.
My breath hitches.
“He’s gonna see me… in this?” I whisper to myself.
My throat goes dry.
I stare at the lingerie again. And for a split second, I picture what he’ll look like when he sees me in it. Those sharp amber eyes dragging down my body. That slow, dangerous smirk that says he already owns every inch of me.
But my damn body doesn’t listen. My pulse jumps. Heat pools low in my belly. I hate it. I hate how his presence does this to me.
No. No, no, no. I can’t get swept into this.
“Shit p>
Subscribed
Adminj