The destruction exceeds my worst fears. Castle walls groan under the pressure as they crumble, their ancient stones cracking apart, and shadows stretch like grasping fingers across the fractured stone, claiming the very heart of the castle. The air is thick with the scent of fear, tension crackling through every breath. The door suddenly flies open, revealing a maid, her uniform disheveled, her breath coming in ragged gasps as if she’s run a marathon.
“Wolves!” she pants, her gaze locking onto me with unsettling intensity. “They’ve come for blood. The king’s orders–not a single hair on your head is to be harmed.” The women surrounding me close ranks, their bodies forming an impenetrable barrier between me and the chaos outside.
“I can fight my own battles,” I protest, uncomfortable with their protectiveness. No one has ever shielded me like this–like I matter. It feels foreign, and I recoil from the softness of it.
“We don’t doubt your strength, my lady,” the eldest maid says, her voice steady, filled with a calm resolve that I can’t help but admire. “But protecting our future queen is our sacred duty.” The words send an unexpected warmth through my chest, a spark of something I can’t name.
Then–silence. Sudden and complete.
“They’re… gone?” someone murmurs, confusion lacing the words, the uncertainty lingering in the air like a thick fog.
The tension shatters as Thalric storms in, his nostrils flaring, his body taut with barely contained fury as he scans the room. When his eyes finally find me, they darken dangerously, but only for a moment before he jerks his gaze away. Only then do I realize I stand there in nothing but my undergarments, the dresses they’ve offered me still untouched, the weight of the situation settling on my shoulders like
an anchor.
Heat floods my cheeks, embarrassment surging through me as I cross my arms in a futile attempt at modesty. His throat works as he clears it, eyes deliberately averted as though to give me privacy in the chaos.
*Is everyone unharmed?” His voice is tight, forced, his gaze sweeping over the women, but I can feel the tension hanging between us, thick and oppressive.
“We’re well, Your Grace,” the head maid answers, her voice soft, yet resolute. “No injuries.”
He gives a curt nod, his jaw clenching. “Cancel the ball. Aureliza–with me.” He’s already striding out before finishing the sentence, expecting obedience. Something in his tone compels me to follow, propriety be damned, and I fall into step behind him without thinking, an undercurrent of urgency in his
every movement.
The castle’s true scale reveals itself as we traverse endless, winding corridors, the grandeur fading into stark, cold stone. He leads me to an unassuming chamber–a room smaller, more intimate than the opulent spaces I’ve seen. The door slams shut behind us with a sudden, unnatural force, and I realize -it wasn’t us. Magic. Real, tangible magic. I’ve heard rumors, whispers of its existence, but witnessing it firsthand sends a shiver down my spine. The room is suddenly… different. More than just stone and wood. There is power here.
“Are you hurt?” Thalric’s voice is soft, a contrast to the chaos outside, but his hands hover near me, his eyes raking over every inch of exposed skin with a sharp, assessing gaze.
10.45
15.030
“I’m fine,” I say, the words coming out breathier than intended, the weight of his attention making my pulse race, my breath shallow.
His gaze pierces through me, searching for any sign of injury, of deception. Satisfied, he exhales sharply, tension draining from his body like a slow, reluctant release. “They breached the first barrier. It was the Council.”
“The Council?” The word hangs in the air like a dark omen. I know of them–legends, whispers, powerful beings who control so much from the shadows. But a brazen attack like this? What could have provoked them? “What did they want? Did you-”
My questions die in my throat as his attention shifts. That familiar intensity returns, his gaze dropping to my lips before trailing lower. My skin prickles under his scrutiny, and I feel the weight of his stare like a physical presence.
“Tell me this isn’t because of me,” I whisper, suddenly terrified I’ve brought this upon him, upon us.
His thumb presses against my lips, silencing me, and the contact steals my breath. “You worry too much,” he murmurs, his voice low and husky, as the pad of his finger traces the curve of my mouth with maddening precision. Every nerve in my body ignites, and I swallow hard, my throat dry, my body frozen in anticipation.
Then, without warning, he leans in. The dip of his head is predatory, the familiar gesture wolves make when scenting their mates. His breath warms my skin, and the space between us vanishes. The world narrows to the feeling of his proximity, the pull between us unbearable.
At the last possible moment, he recoils. “Forgive me.” His voice roughens with something raw, something unspoken, his expression tightening with a self–loathing that makes my chest ache. “I don’t know what possessed me. I only meant to check on you.”
Every fiber of my being yearns to pull him back, to close the distance, to breathe in his scent fully–an intoxicating blend of power and wilderness that calls to my very bones, makes me feel like I’m home. But he’s already turned away.
“You may go.” His voice is quieter now, a harsh edge to it. “I only wanted to ensure your safety.”
I flee before the hurt can fully register, barely noticing the tears stinging my eyes. My bedroom door absorbs the force of my frustration as I collapse onto the bed, burying my burning face in the covers, the weight of everything too much to bear.
The door creaks open sometime later, revealing the source of my turmoil. “What now?” I snap, my voice raw and fractured, too exposed to maintain any pretense.
“The Council demands an audience.” His words freeze my blood, my limbs turning to lead. Me? A nobody, summoned by the most powerful wolves alive? The very thought sends a tremor through my body, and I feel a cold sweat break out across my skin.
As I search his face for any sign of what he’s not telling me, he surprises me again. His expression softens, a trace of guilt flickering across his features. “Aureliza.” My name rolls off his tongue like a confession, and my heart skips in my chest, unsure of whether to be afraid or intrigued. “About before… I’m sorry. That urge to kiss you–it overwhelmed me. Completely inappropriate.”
I meet his gaze squarely, the fire inside me refusing to burn out. “Who said I’d have minded?”
