They all think she is wolfless. A useless shifter. A girl born wrong. And Velia prefers it that way because being underestimated is safer than being feared. Safer than being hunted. Safer than losing him. The boy who once saved her. The man she loves. The Alpha King. For 18 years she has hidden in plain sight.
Until the night a jealous lord decides to expose her. In front of the entire royal court. A single vial. A forced shift. No escape. And suddenly Velia’s worst nightmare is no longer a secret. It’s happening. She is transforming. And what rises in that great hall is nothing anyone could have imagined. The court recoils in horror.
Whispers turn to fear. But Velia doesn’t see any of it. Because there is only one face that matters. Only one reaction that could shatter her completely. The Alpha King. Will he look at her the way her family did? Or will he choose her? Even now? Prologue. She was standing in the great hall when she realized she was going to lose everything.
The court was assembled. The entire weight of the kingdom’s aristocracy pressed into one room. Watching her. They shouldn’t even have been aware of her existence. How had she ended up standing in the center of this hall alone with every eye fixed on her? Not that it mattered anymore. It was all about to blow over.
The shift was coming. She could feel it in her blood. Soon she would be forced to reveal herself. Soon everyone would know. She forced down a scream of despair. She had held it still for 18 years. Avoided shifting in front of others for 18 years. Every day, every hour, she knew how to keep her transformation caged.
She had built her entire life around that single immovable fact. It did not come out unless she let it. And she never let it. But something was pulling it out of her now and she could not stop it. Lord Ambrose stepped forward. “This girl has served at court for years.” He said. “Now we will see if she can bring forth her wolf.
See if she is worthy.” Murmurs rippled through the hall. She saw heads turn, whispers exchanged. They thought she would not be able to turn. They thought she had no wolf. They thought she was about to be humiliated. They had no idea what they had done. The pressure beneath her ribs flared. It was coming. She needed to run. She had run before.
She knew how to disappear. She could do it now. They would assume it was out of shame. They would never know. He would never know. Her eyes found him without meaning to. The Alpha King, Cailen. He stood at the far end of the hall elevated on the dais. Golden-haired and broad-shouldered watching her with those pale blue eyes.
Waiting for her to do what Ambrose expected. Stand here wolfless, humiliated, and let the court’s judgment break. This was it. The moment she had spent her entire life avoiding. In seconds everyone would know. The court would see. Cailen would see what she was. What she had always been. And she knew.
She knew exactly what his face would do. She had been 8 years old the first time she watched people who loved her recoil in horror. She could not survive seeing such horror on Cailen’s face. Except she could not stop what was happening. The shift clawed at her from the inside. Her bones ached. She met the king’s eyes one last time across the expanse of marble.
“I’m sorry.” She thought. “I’m so sorry.” The shift took her. Her vision fractured. The room tilted. She had become the thing she had spent her entire life trying not to be. She heard the first gasp. “What is this?” Someone screamed. Hundreds of faces. The council, the guards, Lord Ambrose. Every single one frozen in shock.
She did not need a mirror to know what they were seeing. She had known since she was 8 years old what she looked like through other people’s eyes. And then because she could not help herself, she turned toward him. Toward her king. She closed her eyes, took a breath, and forced them open to meet his judgment.
Chapter 1. 18 years before she was forced to shift in front of the Alpha King and his entire court Velia shifted in front of someone she loved. Several someones in fact. Her entire family. Velia learned two things in that moment. One, she had been adopted for she was clearly different. And two love was never unconditional.
She’d been so excited when she’d felt the shift take her. Her older brother, Gail, had told her what it would feel like when her wolf would manifest. So when an urge had risen, when she felt something inside clawing its way out, she’d thought, “Finally.” Her mother had been with her gently encouraging. And then it was over.
Advertisements
She’d changed. And her mother’s face had decomposed and she’d lost everything. She’d had to run away. From the screams and the fire and the people amongst which were her parents seeking to kill her. She had never shown anyone her shift since. She would show the entire court her shift in about 3 weeks, but she didn’t know that yet.
Right now she was still just a maid scrubbing floors when three new guards, young, bored, began to taunt her. “That’s her.” One of them said. “The wolfless one.” Velia kept scrubbing. “No wolf at all?” Another voice asked. “What’s even the point of her then?” Someone added. “Kitchen work I’d imagine.” The first guard laughed.
“Not like she’s pretty enough for anything else.” This was the kind of thoughtless mockery that came easy when the target was small and quiet and had learned not to fight back. And Velia knew in her bones not to fight back. Wolfless, shiftless. If only they knew. If only that were the worst thing about her. A simple absence.
A wolf that never came. But there was no absence. Instead there was the thing she had learned to keep still. Being called wolfless wasn’t an insult. It was cover. The lie that would save her from ever being looked at the way her mother had looked at her as her love for Velia d.i.ed. “Hey.” A boot stepped into her line of sight. “You deaf as well as wolfless?” The guard asked.
“Just doing my work.” Velia said quietly. “Sure.” The guard laughed. “But does it have to be someone taking up space at court?” He leaned in slightly. “Seems like a waste of resources if you ask me.” “I should get back to work.” Velia said casually. She moved to step around him. He stepped with her. “You know, you’re pretty enough from up close.
” He reached for her with his hand. “Perhaps you could be of use after.” “Is there a problem here?” The voice came from behind her. Warm, easy. The kind of voice that did not need to be raised to fill a space. All three guards went very still. Velia closed her eyes briefly and thought, “Not now.” Cailen was leaning against a wall. All golden-haired and bright blue eyes and infuriating ease.
He looked like he had just wandered into the corridor by accident. He had not wandered anywhere by accident. Beneath her ribs the thing that was not a wolf stirred. “Your majesty.” The first guard bowed. “We were just “Just what?” Cailen asked. “Making her day more difficult than it needs to be?” “No, your majesty.” The guard stammered.
“We were only “Only wasting her time.” Cailen concluded. “And mine too while you’re at it.” There was no threat in his voice, but the guards went pale anyway. “I’m sure you have somewhere else to be.” Cailen said placidly as they squandered off. Velia watched them go with a sigh. “You shouldn’t have done that.
” She scolded quietly. “Done what?” Cailen blinked all innocence. “Walk down a corridor in my own palace?” “The guards, your majesty.” Velia said. “Velia.” He groaned. “How many times must I ask you to call me by my name? You said you would.” “I said when we’re in private.” She snapped. He looked around the corridor.
Servants passing with linens, guards stationed at the far end. “This is private.” He said confused. She gave him a look. “You nobles really do not notice the common folk, do you?” She muttered. “Of course I notice.” Cailen said. “I just don’t think they’d notice if you were to make a small breach in protocol.
” “Hey, where are you going?” He added when she started walking towards the kitchens. She did not answer trying to put space between them. He had always been like this. Even back when he was just the crown prince with the terrible reputation for never taking anything seriously. He had never cared about decorum. “I’ve said something offensive again, haven’t I?” He asked pouting slightly.
“Not more than usual, your majesty.” Velia sighed. “See? This is why I need you, Velia. You always tell me what I should or shouldn’t say.” “Which you pointedly ignore.” She snapped. “I do not.” He countered. “I listen intently. For example, you said I should not be found drunk at the Great Western Ambassador’s Ball.
” Velia turned to stare at him. He had in fact gotten extremely drunk. She had found him herself barely standing. “And I wasn’t.” He continued grinning now. “I waited until the after party because I listen.” She groaned. He was such a nightmare. Always had been. She thought of the boy who had found her in the woods 18 years ago, 10 years old and already too clever for his own good.
She had been curled against a tree, still half wild from running from the pitchforks and her family’s piercing screams. When he had crouched down beside her and asked her name, she had not answered. But he had wrapped her in his cloak anyway and brought her back to the palace. “I’ll protect you.” he’d said. He’d told his parents she was an orphan, that her family had rejected her for being wolfless.
It was what he believed because she had let him believe it. He had kept her close ever since, told her everything, every thought, every ridiculous idea that crossed his mind because he called her his friend and because he had never learned to guard himself. Why would he? He was charming and golden and being himself had only ever drawn people closer.
He had no concept of a world where honesty was dangerous. Meanwhile, she lived in a world where showing someone who you really were could make them recoil. So, she lied. About her shift, about her family, about being his friend. They could not be friends, not really. Not just because he was a king and she was a maid, but because he was made to be seen and she was made to hide.
Being himself drew people in, being herself would send them running. “So,” the king said, matching her pace, “I have news.” “Wonderful.” Velia groaned, walking faster. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it doesn’t concern me.” She felt his hand encircle her wrist and froze. “That’s where you’re wrong.” he said. He was smiling, but beneath it was something eager and slightly flustered.
“Your majesty?” she asked. “I’m getting married.” he announced, eyes bright. Velia stared at him. Inside her chest, something very carefully constructed fell apart. Chapter two. She was being ridiculous. Kaelan was a king, marriage was inevitable. Besides, he’d been engaged for years. “I know.” Velia said. They had reached the kitchens.
She set down her bucket and brush by the door. “You know?” Kaelan asked, following her in. “You’ve been engaged since birth, your majesty.” she said, keeping her voice light. “To the princess of Aldara.” It was the kind of political arrangement that shaped kingdoms, a marriage alliance that would bring Aldara’s military strength and trade routes into their fold.
“About that.” Kaelan said. “The princess broke off the engagement.” Velia blinked, stupefied. “She found her fated mate.” Kaelan said casually, though his scent had shifted, bright and sharp, almost effervescent. Excitement, the thing inside her noted. “A duke from up north or something, apparently.” he went on.
“The council nearly had a collective stroke.” Velia’s mind was already racing. “She can’t do that.” Velia snapped. “This kingdom needs “Velia.” Kaelan laughed. “Breathe. It works out perfectly.” He had moved into the kitchen properly now and he was, there was no other word for it, glowing. “Perfectly?” she repeated.
“The alliance holds.” he said. “The princess married her fated mate, but we agreed trade routes stay open. The council gets to keep their precious stability.” He stepped closer and the scent hit her properly, bright with an almost intoxicating edge of pure joy. “So really.” he continued. “Everyone wins. And I I’m finally free.
” The cold thing in Velia’s chest grew heavier. “Then, why are you talking about marriage?” she asked. “Because I’m getting married.” he said, smiling. “Just not to the princess.” Somewhere in the background, Velia could hear the clatter of pots, the low murmur of kitchen staff working in the adjacent room, but none of it felt real.
“You are?” she managed. “And there will be a ball.” Kaelan said. He was moving again, restless energy making him pace. “An engagement ball to present my bride.” “Your bride?” Velia repeated, the words tasting like ash. “The council won’t approve.” he said, waving a hand. “But I don’t care.” He turned to face her fully and his expression was so open, so certain, it hurt to look at.
“There’s no other woman for me.” he declared, taking her hand. “Not anymore. Not ever.” The thing inside Velia’s chest, the thing that was not a wolf, that had been watching him with too much attention for too long, growled in pain. “Are you sure?” Velia asked finally. “Is she even right for the crown? Have the council vetted her family?” “I told you I don’t care.
” Kaelan shrugged. “I’m in love.” he added softly, searching her eyes. “You’re in love?” she repeated. “Yes.” He grinned a ridiculous, unguarded grin. “Completely.” The silence stretched. “Since when?” Velia asked, voice so flat Kaelan blinked in surprise. “Oh.” he laughed. A little nervous, a little shy, his hand going to the back of his neck.
“I think for years, actually.” “Years?” she repeated doubtful. “Yes, almost my entire life, really.” Her chest felt like it was caving in. “I hadn’t realized it.” he continued. “Not properly. Not until, well, recent events.” He laughed again, softer. “You know me. I’m a bit slow on the uptake sometimes.” “Yes.” Velia shrugged. “You are.
” The grief hit her so hard she almost staggered. She had loved him for 10 years, had learned to live with it, the impossibility of her feelings ever being returned because he had never loved anyone else either. But this new love was focused and fierce and devastatingly directed at someone. Who? It couldn’t be Lady Helen.
Their tryst had ended two years prior. Duchess Jenna was just a friend, supposedly, and surely it couldn’t be Princess Iona. She had a weird laugh. Kaelan always said so. “So what do you think?” Kaelan asked. She looked at him. He was waiting eagerly for her to say something, almost nervously. “What do you think?” he asked again, sounding a bit uncertain now, almost disappointed.
Probably because he expects you to be enthusiastic, you dolt, she thought. You’re supposed to be his friend. “I think it’s wonderful.” she said, forcing a smile. He searched her eyes. “Yeah?” he asked, still a bit uncertain, but mostly hopeful now. Meanwhile, she was dying inside, but she did not want to crush that hope.
“Yes, of course. It’s it’s she hesitated. I have no words.” Kaelan’s face lit up even brighter, if that was possible. “The engagement ball is in a week from now.” he told her, squeezing her hand excitedly. Velia nodded. “I’ll make sure the kitchens are” she began. “What? No.” He stepped forward. “I’ll take care of everything. You only need to be there.
” She stared at him. She could not. She was just a maid. “It’s going to be a magical evening.” he said, his thumb brushed absently across her knuckles. “You’ll love it. You’ll see.” Her throat was too tight to answer. “I should get back to work, your majesty.” she said, pulling her hand free. “Congratulations.” He frowned, that bright joy replaced by something confused and searching.
“Velia.” he attempted. “I’ll see you at the ball.” she said. Then she turned and walked away before he could see her face break. Chapter three. The dress arrived the morning of the ball. Velia stared at it, laid carefully across her narrow bed by one of the palace stewards. Silver silk, embroidered with thread that caught the light like stars.
There was a note pinned to the bodice, written in Kaelan’s careless scroll. “Wear this tonight. Please.” Velia picked up the dress with shaking hands. The ball was already underway when she arrived. Thousands of candles cast golden light across marble floors polished to a mirror shine. Flowers cascaded from every surface.
The court was assembled in their finest. Foreign dignitaries clustered near the dais. Velia stood at the entrance, her hands clenched in her skirts. Her chest felt tight. Her pulse was beating too fast. The thing inside her was coiled and watchful, tracking movement, scenting the air. Too many people. Someone was watching her.
She looked around. Lord Ambrose was approaching, weaving through the crowd. He had always been kind to her. He was one of Kaelan’s most trusted advisers, had been since before Kaelan took the throne. “Have you heard the news?” Lord Ambrose asked. “His majesty wouldn’t say who, of course, insisted on keeping it a surprise until tonight.
” He turned back to her, his gaze searching. “Do you know?” “No idea.” Velia said. It was the truth, though it felt hollow in her mouth. She scanned the room desperately. Countess Stephanie was looking stunning, but no, she was an airhead. Lady Tula was elegant and poised, but it couldn’t be her. He didn’t like blondes.
And it definitely wasn’t Princess Iona and her weird laugh. “Well.” Lord Ambrose said, his voice dropping slightly. “Whoever it is, I think we can both agree it’s not the princess of Aldara. No, Velia agreed quietly. Her finding a fated mate is a disaster, he continued. Fortunately, I have a contingency plan.
Someone much better suited for the king actually. Someone who’s been prepared precisely in case this alliance fell through. Who is it? Velia asked. Lady Dolores, he replied. Your daughter? Yes, Lord Ambrose smiled. You know her of course. A strong shifter. Good at politics, poised, agreeable but intelligent.
Beautiful, an astute diplomat. Everything a queen should be. Velia could not argue with that. Lady Dolores was all of those things. Uh she and his majesty have always gotten along well too, Lord Ambrose added. That was true. They had known each other since childhood. After the king announces his fiance tonight, Lord Ambrose continued, I’ll need your help in making him see reason, in pushing Dolores as his best viable option.
Velia stared at him. He will not listen. He claims he is in love. He thinks he is in love, Lord Ambrose corrected gently. He’s young still, impetuous. It wouldn’t be the first time. Velia clenched her fists at the memory of women Kalen had desired, enjoyed, then moved on from. He never once asked any of them to marry him, she said quietly.
No, Lord Ambrose agreed. But he’d been engaged. Now the freedom has gone to his head. He softened his tone. Understandably so, I might add. I’m not criticizing him. I’m simply saying we wouldn’t want him to make a sudden impulsive decision because of eagerness to finally choose for himself. Velia considered that.
Kalen was impulsive. How many times had she talked him out of terrible ideas? I suppose not, she said slowly. You’ll speak to him, yes? Lord Ambrose encouraged. He listens to you. You have a way of reaching him when the rest of us cannot. Make him see reason. He squeezed Velia’s shoulder, a gesture that felt paternal, reassuring.
She felt sick. Uh Velia. She turned. Princess Lena was crossing toward her, beaming. Kalen’s younger sister, all dark curls and bright eyes and uncontainable enthusiasm. You look beautiful, Lena said. Absolutely stunning. I knew that dress would be perfect. You knew about the dress? Velia asked. Of course.
Kalen wouldn’t shut up about it. Lena was practically bouncing. You know how he gets. Then she saw him and everything stopped. The room seemed to contract until there was only him. He looked beautiful. The candlelight caught in his hair, turning it to gold. He looked like something out of legend. Like the kings in the stories her mother used to tell her before she cut the thought off.
Her heart was beating too fast. She could feel it hammering against her ribs. Could feel the thing inside her stirring in response to him. He crossed the room. The crowd parted without thinking. Bod.i.es shifting unconsciously to make way for their king. You came, he said. His hand closed around hers. I she started, but she did not know how to finish.
Before she could find the words, he was pulling her forward. His hand warm and certain around hers, leading her through the crowd. Kalen, she tried. He did not seem to hear her. He pulled her up the steps of the dais, positioning her beside him. My lords and lad.i.es, he said. His voice carried across the hall.
The room went quiet. Hundreds of eyes all focused on the dais. Velia’s pulse was roaring in her ears. This was it. He was going to announce his engagement. She tried to pull her hand free. He held on. Thank you all for joining us this evening, Kalen continued happily. As you know, this ball marks a new chapter for our kingdom.
Velia scanned the room frantically. Where was she? The fiance. Would she step forward from the crowd? The engagement of your king, Kalen said. Murmurs of approval rippled through the assembled nobles. Polite applause. Velia’s eyes darted from face to face, desperate. Velia held her breath. I am honored, Kalen said, his voice going warmer, intimate even though he was addressing hundreds of people.
To present to you my intended bride. He turned to face her. She stared at him. At the way he was looking at her, tenderly. At his hand still holding hers. At the room full of faces all turning to follow his gaze. To her. The air left her lungs in a rush. My intended bride, he’d said. The words echoed in her head, nonsensical.
This was not real. This could not be real. Kalen, she whispered. But the room was already erupting. Applause, scattered at first, uncertain, like no one quite believed what they were seeing. The maid? Someone asked. Has he lost his mind? It was wrong. It was all wrong. She was supposed to be invisible, safe. She ripped her hand free from Kalen’s.
Velia, his smile faltered. She ran. She ran until she burst through the terrace doors and into the cold night air. Chapter four. The stone railing was cool under her hands. She gripped it hard enough to hurt, trying to ground herself, trying to breathe. The thing inside her was thrashing, wanting out, wanting to Velia.
His voice cut through the roaring in her ears. She heard the door slam behind him. Heard his footsteps crossing the terrace, quick, urgent. Where are you going? Kalen asked, sounding almost amused. The ball only just started. We didn’t even dance. She turned. The tears were already streaming down her face, impossible to stop. He stopped. She watched his face change.
Watched the smile drop away, confusion giving way to shock. Velia, he said uncertain. Is this a joke to you? She asked. What? He took a step forward. No, of course not. Are you mocking me? She insisted. Mocking? He looked like she had struck him. Velia, why would I She stepped back when he tried to come closer.
Then why did you just tell an entire ballroom we were getting married? Her voice cracked on the last word. He stared at her. Because His voice was barely above a whisper. Because we are. He said it like a question. Like he was not sure anymore. No, Velia said. We’re not. She watched something break in his expression.
His hands dropped. We’re not? He asked, sounding lost. Of course not, she cried. I’m a maid, Kalen. I’m nobody. But you said you would. He argued plaintively. You said you’d marry me. When? She nearly shouted it. When did I ever say that? It was last week, in that corridor, remember? She did not remember.
Her mind was static. I told you the princess had found her fated mate, he pressed on. Which was good because I was free to marry whoever I wanted, remember? Yes, Velia frowned. I told you there would be a ball to celebrate our engagement, Kalen exclaimed. You said you’d come. Our engagement? She stared at him.
At his desperate, pleading expression. You never said it was going to be our engagement. Of course I did. He was pouting now. I told you I loved you. He paused. You didn’t say it back, but you said you were happy. I thought that was a good start. Velia grimaced. Kalen, she said carefully, slowly. You never said you loved me.
You said you were in love, in general. I assumed you meant with somebody appropriate. Who else would be appropriate? He threw his hands up. Princess Iona with the weird laugh? You. His voice cracked. You really didn’t understand I was talking about you? The question hung in the cold air between them. He stepped closer, slowly.
He reached up with shaking hands and brushed the tears from her cheeks. I’m sorry, he said. I thought But who else would it be, Velia? There could only be you. I’ve loved you since the minute I found you. She stared into his blue eyes and found only earnestness there. I thought it was obvious, he continued. With how I practically forced you onto my horse and carried you back to my castle and made you stay by my side this entire time.
You’re nice to everyone, she protested. You’re just kind and charming. That’s who you are. I don’t seek out everybody else like I seek you out, he protested. You really didn’t realize? His scent was wrapping around her and the thing inside her wanted to press closer, to soothe him, to Kalen, you were a prince, she said desperately. And now you’re king.
I’m nobody. You’re the woman I love, he declared. You can’t mean that, she breathed. He cupped her face in both hands. I mean it, Velia, he said. I mean it with everything that I am. Ever since I met you, I’ve thought only of you. Even when I was too foolish to know it was love. You’re still foolish, she managed.
He laughed softly. Yes, you’re right. I am. I’m a fool. He leaned against her. Which is why I need you. I’m a mess without you. You know that. Then he was dropping to one knee. The movement was graceful despite the tremor in his hands. “What are you doing?” Velia asked. “Asking you to be mine,” he said properly.
His eyes never left hers. “Will you do me the honor of being my wife, Velia?” he asked. “And my queen?” She was shaking her head. Not because the answer was no, because this could not be real. “I will spend every day of the rest of our lives making you happy,” he swore. “And being very serious and dignified and not at all a fool.
” She laughed, a half sob. His face brightened immediately. “I make you laugh at least. That’s something, right? And I can take care of you and I” He paused. “Did I mention how much I love you?” “You can’t mean it,” she whispered. His expression shifted. His eyes dropped to her mouth, then back up. When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
“Let me show you how I mean it,” he said. Then he was standing, pulling her close, and his mouth was on hers. The kiss was soft at first, tentative. Then she made a small sound and everything changed. His body pressed against hers, solid and warm. The kiss deepened, turned hungry. The thing inside her chest, the thing that was not a wolf, surged toward him, wanting to be closer, wanting to twine around him.
She could feel herself losing the fight to keep it still. Her hands fisted in his velvet jacket, pulling him closer. “Say yes,” he breathed. His voice was wrecked. “Say you’ll be mine.” “Yes,” she whispered. The word had barely left her lips before he was grinning against her mouth, laughing, pulling her into his arms properly and spinning her.
“You’re going to be my wife,” he said, beaming. “You said yes. You’re going to be my queen.” His hands were on her waist, pulling her closer. “And my mate,” he murmured against her throat, his lips trailing along her skin. “All mine.” She froze. The word cut through the haze of warmth and want. Mate. He did not notice.
He buried his face in her neck, breathing her in deep, his body tight with relief and longing. “I cannot wait until we’re mated,” he said against her skin. “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting.” The panic hit. Of course. Of course he would expect to mate with his wife. That was what shifters did. And when they did, he would know.
He would feel what was inside her. Would know she was not wolfless. He would know exactly what she was. She had just agreed to marry the man she loved. The man she had loved quietly, carefully, impossibly for years. And she was going to have to end it. Chapter 5 A week had passed since the engagement ball. Velia stood in the gardens, pacing, trying to breathe.
Alpha kings did not just take queens. They took mates. The mating bond strengthened the line, increased the chances of conceiving an heir. And even if he wasn’t being pressured, Kalen wanted it. She could tell. Could smell it on him every time he touched her. Heat flooded her face at the memory. The past week had been She did not have words for it.
He kissed her constantly. In corridors, in council chambers when he thought no one was looking, in the gardens where anyone could see. Soft kisses, deep kisses, kisses that made her forget her own name. She wanted him, wanted this. But the bond would create a link between them. He would sense what she felt. And he would know something was wrong.
Her hands were shaking. She could not let him see. Could not let him know what she was. Her mother had loved her. Had sung to her. Had soothed her to sleep. Had chosen her when she did not have to. And the second she saw what Velia really was, that love had turned to horror. If her own mother could not survive the truth, how could Kalen? She imagined it.
His face, that beautiful, unfairly beautiful face, going from warm to horrified. She would not survive it. Velia. She jumped. Lord Ambrose was standing beside her in the garden. She had not heard him approach. “Lord Ambrose,” she said, pressing a hand to her chest. “You startled me.” He frowned, stepping closer.
“Are you all right, child?” “Yes, of course.” She dropped into a curtsy automatically. “Forgive me, my lord.” He smiled. “You don’t have to curtsy, Velia. You are the king’s intended now, after all.” The words made her feel shamed somehow, though she could not say why. “Lord Ambrose,” she said quickly. “I really did not know.
I No. No.” He waved a hand, cutting her off. “I’m sure you didn’t. I trust you would have told me. You would have, wouldn’t you?” “Of course.” “Good.” He gestured to the garden path. “Walk with me?” They walked side by side through the gardens. The morning sun was warm on her skin. “Velia,” Lord Ambrose said after a long silence.
“You know I have the utmost respect for our king. That I believe in him and the strength of this kingdom.” “Yes,” she said slowly. “You also must know that over the years I’ve grown quite fond of you, Velia.” She felt touched and guilty in equal measure. “My lord.” “Which is why,” he continued, his voice gentling, “you cannot and should not be offended by what I’m about to say.
Because I must say it. It comes from a place of affection and loyalty.” He stopped walking, turned to face her fully. “Velia,” he said quietly. “You cannot marry the king.” She paused, stared at him. He was right. Of course he was right. She knew that. Had known it from the moment Kalen proposed, but hearing someone else say it hurt in a whole new way.
“You know that already, don’t you?” Lord Ambrose asked, watching her face. “I” Her throat was tight. “I know me being a mate isn’t ideal.” “That,” Lord Ambrose nodded. “And the fact that you cannot shift. A queen needs to stand strong beside her alpha. You wouldn’t be able to.” The words cut, even though they were true.
“A shame,” he added, and he sounded genuinely sad about it. You’ve shown political savviness and astute understanding of diplomacy more than once. Over the years you’ve been a tremendous asset to the king. He listens to you. And for good reason.” Velia looked away. Lord Ambrose squeezed her shoulder. “Velia,” he said softly.
“You do not have to step away from him forever. Dolores isn’t in love with him. She’ll be more than understanding about him taking a mistress. Especially if that mistress is good for the crown.” He paused. “You can have Kalen. Build a life with him. Just not a public one.” She nodded.
She did not trust herself to speak. “My dear,” Lord Ambrose said, his voice full of sympathy. “I understand this must be hard.” “Lord Ambrose.” The voice cut across the garden like a blade. Kalen was standing at the other end of the path. He was smiling, but his eyes were not. Lord Ambrose turned, bowing smoothly. “Your majesty.” Velia started to curtsy, but Kalen was already there, his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to look at him.
“How good of you to keep my future queen company when I cannot, Lord Ambrose,” he said. “Truly, your dedication to the crown is, as ever, outstanding.” “Just doing my job, sire,” Ambrose said politely. “Yes, well.” Kalen’s arm slid around Velia’s waist. “I’m here now. You may leave.” “Your majesty.” Kalen was already walking away, guiding Velia with him.
“Good day, Ambrose,” he said dismissively. The second they were alone, tucked behind a hedge, Kalen stopped walking and cupped her face in both hands. “What’s wrong?” His eyes searched hers. “What did that snake tell you?” “Lord Ambrose isn’t a snake,” Velia said automatically. “He’s very devoted to” “His own political ascension,” Kalen finished.
“Which, fair, I suppose. Everyone’s devoted to something.” His thumbs brushed her cheeks. “Why are you sad, my love?” “I” She looked at him. “I thought you trusted Ambrose.” “I do.” He sounded sincere. “As much as I trust anybody around me, which is partially.” She stared at him. “I hadn’t realized you felt that way, Kalen.
” He smiled. It was fond. “I don’t feel that way about you.” He leaned down. “I trust you implicitly. Always have.” “Kalen.” “I’ve missed you,” he murmured. His hands slid into her hair. The thing inside her surged. She could feel it pressing against her control, wanting out, wanting him. “I should tell you,” she said.
“Tell me.” His breathing was uneven. “I want to know. Everything. But first” He kissed her again. “Go change. I’m taking you riding.” “Riding?” “Yes,” he said, boyish and bright. “We’re going for a picnic. Just you and I. Some alone time.” He kissed her again. Groaned against her mouth. She could smell desire on him, want barely restrained.
“Yes,” he murmured to himself between kisses. “Alone time. It’ll be good. We need it. I need” He kissed her harder. One more day, she thought. One more day of pretending this could work. Then she would end it. Chapter 6 She needed to end this engagement. She had tried to end it over and over all week. She had tried.
The first time was in the library. Cailan was pretending to read a treatise on trade agreements, his expression so pained she almost laughed. When she said his name, he looked up at her like she was salvation itself. “Save me,” he begged, pulling her into his arms. “I’m being murdered by bureaucracy.” She felt his lips against her throat and forgot what she was going to say.
The second time, she cornered him outside the council chamber. “Cailan, I need to speak with you,” she said. “It’s important.” “Of course.” He was already pulling her into an alcove. “What is it?” “Our wedding,” she began. “Oh.” His whole face brightened. “I almost forgot.” He produced a ring from his pocket. “It was my grandmother’s,” he said, suddenly shy.
“I know we’ll get you something grander for the official ceremony, but I wanted you to have this now.” He slipped it onto her finger. “Do you like it?” he asked, hopeful. She kissed him instead of answering. By the time she tried again, over breakfast in her chambers, she was running out of ways to begin. “Cailan, I’ve been thinking,” she said carefully.
“Do you think this is a good idea?” “Us?” The smile faded. Then he stood, circled the table, pulled her to her feet. “Yes,” he said simply. “I think it’s the best idea I’ve ever had.” He kissed her before she could speak. “I love you,” he said against her lips. “Stop trying to talk yourself out of this.” “I’m not trying to” “You are,” he said. “I can see it.
Every time you get that look on your face, like you’re about to run. Don’t run from me, Velia.” So here she was, a week later, still engaged, still terrified, still in love. She had gone to his study after dinner. “Just to talk,” she told herself. Now the sun had set. The candles on his desk burned low. The palace had gone quiet around them.
He’d kissed her, soft at first, gentle. The kiss turned hungry, desperate. She could feel his heart racing, could smell the sharp spike of arousal mixing with his scent. “Closer. Need to be closer,” the thing inside her claimed. “Velia,” he breathed against her mouth. “We should We should stop.” “Then stop,” she said.
“I’m trying.” He did not sound like he was trying. He sounded wrecked. Her hands found the buttons of his shirt. His hands found the laces at the back of her dress. They came free. The fabric slipped from her shoulders. His mouth was on her neck, hot and insistent. Her fingers tightened in his hair. Then his lips found the curve where her neck met her shoulder.
He kissed it once, twice, and began to suck. The sensation tore through her. “Yes,” she heard herself say. “Please.” He sucked harder. She could feel his teeth pressing against her skin. Light, teasing, not enough. She wanted him to bite down, wanted him to claim her so badly she could not think. The thing inside her was roaring.
He bit down, light, not breaking skin, but it was enough. Instinct took over. Her hands fisted in his hair. She tilted his head to the side, felt her teeth sharpen, and then she was biting down on his shoulder. A bond flared to life. For one brief, devastating moment, she felt him. His emotions pouring into her in a rush.
Lust, hot and desperate. Love, so much love. Joy, wonder. And then something else. A strange disconnect. Like the world had gone soft at the edges. Wrong. This was wrong. She pulled back, gasped for air. Her reflection caught in the darkened window across the room. Golden eyes, slitted pupils, fangs where her teeth should be.
Horror crashed through her. She forced it down, shoved the beast back into its cage with every ounce of will she had. Then looked at Cailan. He was staring at nothing. His eyes unfocused, glassy. A slow, dreamy smile spreading across his face. Her heart stopped. “Cailan?” she asked, cupping his face. He did not seem to hear her.
His pupils were too dilated. His breathing had gone slow and deep, like he was half asleep. She had seen this before. The villager during her escape. She had bitten him, and he had gone from screaming about monsters to vacant-eyed, stumbling. She had poisoned him. She had poisoned Cailan. “No,” she whispered. “No, no, no.
” Two small puncture marks on his shoulder, already closing as his body healed. But he looked wrong. “Cailan, look at me. Look at me.” He blinked slowly. “Velia?” His voice was distant, dreamy. “Talk to me,” she begged. “Please, are you” “I’m fine,” he mumbled, slurring slightly. He was not fine. “I’m calling for a healer,” she said, panicked.
“Healer?” He laughed, confused. “Why? I’m” He reached for her hand, brought it to his lips, kissed her knuckles with that same dreamy, wrong smile. “I’m perfect,” he said. “Everything’s perfect.” It was not perfect. She could hear his heartbeat, steady, strong. He was healing. She could see the bite marks closing completely.
But his eyes were still wrong. His scent was wrong. Venom mixed with something off. She moved away from him, pulled her dress back up with shaking hands. “Velia,” he said, more focused. “What” “I need to go,” she said. “Why?” He reached for her. “Don’t. Stay.” She could not stay. She could not stay here looking at what she had done to him.
He was healing. But it did not change the fact that she had hurt him. That she could have killed him. “Velia,” he said again. More alert now. “What’s wrong?” “Everything.” “We can’t get married,” she declared. He went very still. “What?” “We can’t,” she repeated. He laughed. It sounded nervous, confused.
“Velia, what are you” “I’m serious, Cailan.” Her voice cracked. “I will not marry you. I can’t.” Silence fell. She watched his expression change, watched confusion give way to hurt. “Why would you say that?” he asked quietly. “Because I mean it.” “You can’t.” He stood, reached for her. “You can’t possibly” She stepped back. “I’m sorry, Cailan, but if you love me, you’ll stop insisting.
” He flinched like she had struck him. “You love me, too,” he argued. “I know you do. I can feel” He stopped, pressed a hand to his chest. “I felt you. Just now. The bond” “There is no bond,” she said desperately. “I’m a maid. I can’t shift. I have no title. The council will never accept” “I don’t care what the council thinks,” Cailan said.
“You say you’re wolfless, but your eyes” “They change sometimes. And your scent” He paused, searched her face. “You don’t smell wolfless, Velia. Sometimes you smell dangerous. Like there’s something powerful inside you. I like it,” he confessed, looking fascinated. He sounded like he meant it. It made everything worse.
Minutes ago he had been poisoned because of what she was. And now he was standing here saying he liked it? “You’re seeing what you want to see,” she lied. “Because deep down you know” “You know I’m not enough.” “What?” He recoiled. “No, that’s not” “I can’t shift,” she said. “I have no title, no bloodline, no political value.
The council will fight this. The kingdom will reject me. And one day” “One day you’ll resent me for it.” “That’s not true,” Cailan said, reaching for her again. “Don’t.” She held up a hand. “Don’t force me into something we’ll both regret. I don’t want this. I don’t want to be yours.” The lie burned coming out. “Free me from this,” she said brokenly.
“Give up. If you love me” She met his eyes. “If you love me, you’ll spare me the suffering.” He went pale. “I” His voice was barely a whisper. “I make you suffer? Is that what you’re saying?” She meant the fear, the lying, the constant terror of being discovered. But she said, “Yes.” Sincerely. Because he did. This entire situation had been agony.
He closed his eyes. His whole body seemed to fold inward. When he opened them again, they were bright with unshed tears. “All right,” he said, looking away. “All right. If that’s If that’s what you want.” “It is,” she lied. She turned toward the the before she could take it back. Chapter 7 Three days had passed since she walked out of Kaylen’s study and Velia had spent every one of them hiding in her chambers, unable to eat, unable to sleep, replaying his face over and over.
All right. If that’s what you want. She had never hated herself more. Princess Lena came on the second day, begging her to take him back, saying he was a mess without her, not eating, not sleeping, just sitting in his study staring at nothing. “Please give him another chance.” she’d said, assuming whoever had done wrong it had to be him.
There was no chance to give, no world where this ended well. Velia saw him the next morning, purely by accident. She turned a corner and there he was, walking toward the main hall, flanked by advisers. He met her eyes, held her gaze for one terrible, endless moment, then he looked away, hurt, defeated, and kept walking.
Velia stood frozen in the corridor long after he disappeared. She felt his pain, his confusion, the awful, hollow ache of someone who did not understand what he had done wrong. It ended her. She had thought she was protecting him, had thought breaking his heart was better than letting him discover what she was, but this was worse.
Watching him hurt like this was worse than anything her mother’s face had done to her, worse than running, worse than hiding. She preferred his horror to his sadness, preferred him looking at her the way her family had, with disgust and hatred and fear, than this. Anything was better than his heartbreak. If she told him the truth, if she showed him what she was, he would be horrified.
Yes, he would recoil. He would probably never look at her the same way again, but he would not be sad. She had to tell him. The decision settled over her like a weight. But during the next days, getting an appointment with the king turned out to be impossible. She went to his study. The guards told her he was busy.
She tried the next day. He was in meetings. On the fourth day, she realized he was avoiding her. She was sitting in her chambers, staring at nothing, when someone knocked on her door. Lady Dolores Ambrose stood in the corridor. “Velia,” Dolores said politely. “Lady Dolores.” Velia’s throat was tight.
“What can I do for you?” “I heard you’ve been trying to speak with the king,” Dolores said. “You really broke his heart, you know.” Velia’s throat closed. “I know.” Dolores’s expression softened slightly. “Look, I’ll help you. He’s in a council meeting right now, in the great hall, with visiting dignitaries and neighboring monarchs.
When it ends, I can help you slip inside. You can corner him before he leaves.” Velia hesitated. “I don’t want to make a scene.” “He’s planning to leave on a trip right after,” Dolores interrupted, “to visit an allied kingdom. He’ll be gone for weeks.” “Leaving?” Velia gasped. “Yes, so if you want to talk to him, it’s now or never.
” Dolores nodded. Velia stood. “All right, thank you.” Dolores made a face. “What is it?” Velia asked. “Your scent,” Dolores said carefully. “It’s just a bit off. That’s all.” Velia’s stomach dropped. Her scent-masking potion. She had forgotten to take it this morning. She took one every day, a bitter-tasting concoction that dulled her natural scent, made her smell nearly human.
Without it, her real scent would be noticeable, enough to make them wonder. “Oh, right. Yes.” Velia turned toward the back of her chambers. “Give me a minute.” She went to the small cabinet where she kept her potions. The shelf was empty. Gone. All of them. Every single vial. “Something wrong?” Dolores called from the doorway.
“No, it’s nothing. It’s” Velia was pulling open drawers now, searching frantically. “It’s just I usually take a potion to hide my scent, so people don’t notice the the wolf-lessness, you know?” It was a lie. She took the potion so people would think she was wolf-less, but in her desperation, she did not know what else to say.
Dolores appeared in the doorway. “Oh, right. Well, my father might have some.” She smiled. “He takes similar potions sometimes before important meetings to appear less dominant, easier for diplomacy, he says.” Dolores smiled. “I can get you some if you’d like.” “Would you?” Velia felt dizzy with relief. Lord Ambrose’s chambers were empty.
Dolores let herself in with practiced ease, went straight to a cabinet, and produced a small vial. “Here,” she said, handing it to Velia. “That should do it.” Velia drank it without hesitation. It tasted wrong, sharper than her usual potion, with a bitter aftertaste that made her grimace, but she swallowed it down.
They made their way to the great hall. The doors were closed. Guards stood at attention. Through the thick wood, Velia could hear the low murmur of voices, dozens of them, maybe hundreds. “Wait here,” Dolores whispered. “I’ll signal when it’s safe.” Velia nodded. Dolores slipped inside. Velia waited. Her heart was pounding.
The thing inside her chest was restless, shifting, like it could sense something was wrong. The doors opened. Dolores gestured her inside. Velia stepped into the great hall and stopped. The room was exactly as it had been the night of the engagement ball, candles everywhere, flowers, polished marble floors, but instead of music and dancing, there were rows of chairs filled with nobles and dignitaries and foreign monarchs.
All of them turned to look at her, all of them staring. Why were they staring? Her eyes found Kaylen. He was sitting on the dais, unmoving. He looked pale, exhausted. When his eyes met hers, they were full of hurt. Then Lord Ambrose stepped forward. “My lords and lad.i.es,” he said. His voice carried across the silent hall.
“I present to you the king’s intended bride.” Velia’s stomach dropped. No. “As you know,” Ambrose continued, “a future queen must prove herself worthy of the crown. This includes the traditional shifting ceremony, where the court may witness and judge the strength of her wolf.” Velia could not breathe. She had been set up.
Dolores had not brought her here to talk to Kaylen. She had brought her here to humiliate her, to force her in front of the entire court so they could watch her fail to shift. But why? They were broken up. “He wouldn’t hear it,” Dolores said quietly beside her. “He’s still claiming you’ll change your mind. He won’t hear of anyone else.
” Velia’s head snapped toward her. “What?” But then she felt it. Wrong. Something was very wrong. The thing inside her chest was moving, rising, clawing its way toward the surface with an urgency she had never felt before. “We have administered a shifting potion,” Lord Ambrose announced. He was looking at her with a calculating gleam in his eyes.
“No shifter alive can resist its pull. If Lady Velia has a wolf, no matter how dormant, it will emerge.” Velia’s legs gave out. She fell to her knees on the marble floor. The potion. The one Dolores had given her. It was not a scent masker. It was a forced shift potion. They thought she would stand here, trembling, while nothing happened.
Thought the court would see her fail and deem her unworthy. Thought Kaylen would have no choice but to agree. Because they thought she was shift-less. But they were wrong. The beast was coming. She could feel it tearing through her control, unstoppable, inevitable. Her worst nightmare. Everyone would see. Kaylen would see.
She had to run. They would think she was just wolf-less and ashamed. They would let her go. She looked up. Kaylen was staring at her, hurt, confused. “No,” she thought. “I can’t run. Not this time.” She had wanted him to see, had decided to tell him the truth. He would see now, would see exactly what she was, would understand why she had ended it.
The shift took her. Her bones cracked and reformed, her skin rippled, the world tilted and sharpened. When it was done, there was silence. Then a gasp. She opened her eyes. The world looked different from this height, sharper, colors brighter, scents overwhelming. People were screaming now. She ignored them. She found Kaylen’s eyes across the hall and waited for the horror to come.
Chapter 8 Velia stood on four paws that were not paws, lion paws, large and heavy and wrong. She could feel the serpent tail coiled behind her, scaled, muscular, alien. The world looked different from this height, sharper, colors too bright, scents overwhelming. She rose slowly, felt every eye in the room locked on her.
Then the screaming started. She did not look at them, did not care about the nobles scrambling backward, the foreign dignitaries pale and staring, the guards reaching for weapons. She looked at Kaylen. He was still sitting on the dais, still staring. His face had gone white. His eyes were wide. Waiting. She was waiting for it.
For the moment his expression would shift from shock to horror. For the recoil. For the disgust. But his face just looked wrong. Pale. Too pale. His eyes unfocused. Then he swayed and fell. The sound of his body hitting the marble floor cut through the screaming like a blade. No! Vellia lunged forward. More screams erupted around her.
Guards moved to block her path, weapons drawn. She could hear Kaylin’s heartbeat from across the room. Too slow, irregular, wrong. Could smell his scent changing. The warmth of cedar and leather going sour, chemical, poisoned. Poisoned. He had been poisoned. She snarled. The guards flinched but held their ground. Your mate needs you, something whispered inside her. The beast. Fight them.
Get to him. She forced the rage down. These were palace guards. People she knew. She could not fight them. But she had to reach him. She took a step forward. Slow. Deliberate. Stay back! One of the guards shouted. His voice cracked with fear. Don’t move or we’ll An arrow whistled past her head. On the dais, she saw Princess Lena rush to Kaylin’s side, dropping to her knees beside him.
Kaylin! Lena’s voice was high. Someone call a healer! The king has been injured! Not injured, poisoned. Vellia tried to say it, tried to force the words out. But the potion was still holding her in this shape. A guard stepped directly into her path, shifted, a large gray wolf, lips pulled back, snarling. She stopped. Met his eyes.
Tried to show she was not a threat. He lunged. Stop! Lena’s voice cut across the chaos. The wolf hesitated. A healer arrived, kneeling beside Kaylin, pressed her fingers to his throat. I don’t understand, she said. He’s fading so rapidly. Do something! Lena shouted. If I knew what he had, I could perhaps be more efficient, but He’s been poisoned, Dolores said.
Her voice rang clear across the hall. Vellia froze. Dolores knew? How did she know? Lord Ambrose stepped forward, his voice booming. Yes, poisoned. Obviously this creature He pointed at Vellia. This abomination has been manipulating and poisoned the king. Don’t be ridiculous, Lena snapped. Why now? They’ve been friends for years.
Vellia felt something crack in her chest. Lena was defending her. Well, who else would? Lord Ambrose started. Father, stop! Dolores pleaded. Kaylin is in danger. We need to Dolores, her father warned. Dolores looked at him. Then at Kaylin, pale and dying on the floor. It was us, she said quietly. Me. I poisoned him.
Vellia roared. The sound tore through the hall. Rage and betrayal and grief compressed into one inhuman cry. She lunged forward. Wait! Lena raised her hand, commanding. Stay still. Vellia stopped, met Lena’s eyes. The princess looked terrified but steady. Vellia forced herself to obey. My father wanted me to marry Kaylin, Dolores said, the words tumbling out.
When Vellia broke off the engagement, he put me forward as a candidate. But Kaylin wouldn’t hear it. Lena’s head snapped toward her, eyes narrowing. He kept saying he was waiting, Dolores continued, her voice breaking. That Vellia would change her mind. He claimed they were mates, that he felt a bond with her.
Vellia felt something twist in her chest. Dolores looked at her father. Then back at Kaylin. So, my father devised a plan. Her hands were shaking. I was to drug Kaylin with a compliance potion, make him suggestible enough to sign a wedding contract. The healer made a sound of horror. You didn’t.
Meanwhile, Dolores pressed on. Father would expose Vellia as wolfless using a forced shift potion, remove her from consideration entirely. Once Kaylin came to his senses, the contract would be signed. Vellia would be gone, and he would have no choice but to accept me. You poisoned him, Lena said. Her voice was ice. For a marriage contract.
But he wouldn’t sign! Dolores was crying now, openly. Even drugged he wouldn’t sign. He kept asking for Vellia, kept saying he loved her. Vellia felt her serpent tail coil tighter. He had fought it. Even poisoned, even manipulated, he had fought for her. We had to give him more of the potion, Dolores sobbed.
More and more until That potion contains traces of nightshade, the healer interrupted, her voice sharp with horror. To weaken a shifter’s metabolism, prevent them from healing. In high doses, you essentially gave him poison. I didn’t mean to. Dolores’s face crumpled. I love him. I didn’t mean to kill him. Love? Lena’s voice could have cut stone.
You call this love? Surely there’s an antidote, Lena said, turning back to the healer. Her voice was desperate now. There has to be. It’s too late, the healer said. Her voice was flat, resigned. His body is shutting down. Even an alpha’s healing cannot It’s not too late. The words whispered through Vellia’s mind. Not her thoughts. The serpent’s.
We can fix this. Vellia moved. The guards raised their weapons immediately. But Lena saw her. Saw the way she moved. Slow, deliberate, unthreatening. Vellia stopped a few feet away, lowered herself to the ground, bowed her head. Showing submission. Lena stared at her for a long moment. Then she nodded. Let her through.
Your highness, one of the guards protested. Let her through, Lena repeated, steel in her voice. The guards parted. Vellia moved forward. Every step felt like walking through fire. Every eye in the hall was on her, watching, judging. Seeing the monster she had spent 18 years hiding. She did not care. She reached Kaylin.
He looked so small lying there. So pale. His breathing was shallow, labored. She could smell d.e.a.t.h on him. Faint but present, growing stronger. No. She would not let him d.i.e. The serpent tail moved without her conscious thought. Instinctive. Like it knew what to do even though she did not. It curved around. Positioned itself over his chest.
Then it lowered, the scaled tip pressing against his skin just above his heart. She felt a drawing sensation. The tail was extracting something from his blood, pulling it through his skin, neutralizing it with her own venom system. A biological antidote. She had not known she could do this. The serpent had known.
The process felt like hours. But when it was done, Kaylin’s breathing evened out and color began returning to his face. His eyes opened. He stared up at her, at the creature looming over him, lion body and serpent tail and wrongness made flesh. He opened his mouth, closed it. His hand lifted slightly, trembling.
He looked terrible. Sweaty and pale and held together mostly by the guard at his back. And his eyes were still not quite right. She felt the shift pulling at her. The potion’s effect finally wearing off. She let it take her. The transformation back was faster. When it was done, she was human again, kneeling beside him.
Kaylin’s hand moved from her jaw to the back of her neck. She finally looked up. Hi, she said, uselessly. The corner of his mouth moved. Then his eyes closed and his weight went sideways. Kaylin, she whispered. She caught him, pulled him against her chest, felt his heartbeat strong and steady beneath her palm.
He was alive. He was unconscious, and she had no idea what he had thought when he saw her, what he had felt. But he was alive. Vellia held him and did not let go. Chapter nine. She had been sitting by his bedside for hours. Lena had allowed it. She saved his life, the princess had said, her voice ringing with authority.
She stays. Lord Ambrose and Dolores had been arrested. Would be judged for their crimes, hopefully by Kaylin himself when he recovered. The healer had said it would be soon. His body was just recuperating through sleep. Vellia held his hand and waited. When his eyes opened, she nearly jumped out of her skin. Vellia, he said.
Just her name, but the way he said it made her throat close. You’re awake, she managed. She reached for the water glass on the bedside table with shaking hands. The healer says you should hydrate, she said. He raised an eyebrow. The gesture was so familiar, so him, that something in her chest twisted. What happened? He asked.
She gave him the summary. The poison. Lord Ambrose’s plan. Dolores. Do you remember? She asked when she was done. Kaylin frowned slightly. Vaguely. I was drunk, I think, when she first came to me. He had the grace to look sheepish. I didn’t think to protest when she kept pouring me more drinks. A faint blush colored his cheeks as he shrugged.
Not my proudest moment, I’ll admit. Vellia gave him a look. How many times do I have to tell you to be more careful? She scolded. You can’t just Yes, well, he cut her off. I’m fine now, all healed. He gave her a look then. Thank you for checking on me, he said politely. The words felt formal, careful. Like she was a visiting dignitary and not his oldest friend.
Of course, she said slowly. You must be tired, he said, avoiding her gaze. Her chest tightened. He wanted her to leave. He remembered what she was and now he wanted her gone. Her heart sank. He wasn’t even looking at her. This was the moment she had been dreading for 18 years. But she could not make herself stand.
Could not make herself walk away without knowing for certain. You saw what I am, she murmured. Do you remember? He met her eyes then. Yes. The word was simple, honest. It still tore through her. I wanted to tell you, she said quickly, desperately. All these years, I did, I just So you knew, Kaylen interrupted. You knew what you shifted into? She blinked at him.
Of course I knew. I’ve known since I was 8 years old. When I shifted and my entire family turned on me. They saw what I was and they Kaylen’s expression changed. That’s why they rejected you? His voice was quiet. Not because you were shiftless, but because of what you shifted into? They didn’t reject me, Kaylen, she sighed. They came after me.
They tried to kill me. She watched him take that in. Shock giving way to comprehension to something darker. Something cold and dangerous that she had only seen a handful of times. You should have told me, he said. His voice was quiet. Vellia’s stomach dropped. I know, she said quickly. I’m sorry. But you should have seen the way they looked at me.
I didn’t want you to They need to be brought to justice, he snapped. He was sitting up properly, his eyes blazing. He was not angry at her, she realized. But at them. They need to pay for their crimes, he continued, murderous. Hunting a child, trying to kill you. Vellia stared at him. Kaylen, she said slowly.
I don’t know if you remember what I look like properly. Of course I do, he said. He sounded almost offended now. Big lion body, serpent tail. Yes, she said, throwing her hands up. So no wonder they tried to kill me. So did your guards. His expression went dark again. What? His voice was deadly quiet. Which ones? It doesn’t matter, Vellia nearly shouted.
Look, Kaylen, the point is She paused. I’m sorry I never told you, she said quietly. I should have. I just I didn’t want to lose you. He frowned. Lose me? Yes, when you saw what I Well, you didn’t seem too worried about losing me when you said we couldn’t get married and shattered my heart into a million pieces, he accused with a pout. Vellia stared at him.
Will you stop being dramatic? I’m not being dramatic, he replied, affronted. We share a bond now, you and I. You feel it too, don’t you? She could feel it, that thin thread connecting them, carrying his emotions like echoes. Yes, she admitted. But Kaylen So why, Vellia? He sounded desperate now. Why won’t you marry me? Her brain stopped working for a moment.
Excuse me? She managed. Are you really sincerely asking me why? He abandoned all pretense of acting proud and looked at her, painfully earnest. What do I need to do to get you to marry me, Vellia? He asked. Is it because I took too long to ask that you don’t believe I can be a good mate? Or is it because I sometimes, very occasionally, drink too much at parties? It’s not occasionally, she muttered.
Or is it He looked away. Do you not trust that I love you because I didn’t break off the engagement sooner? He reached out then, took her hand in both of his. I tried to, he said. Many times. Spoke to my father about it. Tried to find other ways to keep the alliance without offending the princess. Kaylen, Vellia tried. He kept going.
He wouldn’t hear it, and the princess wouldn’t hear it either. You know she was quite taken with me before she found her mate? He said it without arrogance, slightly bewildered by the fact. So I thought perhaps if I could gently discourage her, you know, show her I wasn’t suitable at all. Vellia’s eyes narrowed.
Wait, is that what all of your conquests and philandering and general frivolity was about? He had the grace to look sheepish. Yes. Mostly. I was hoping she’d be fed up with me, he added quietly. But it turns out you’re the one who was fed up with me. Something in Vellia’s chest cracked. Well, I didn’t much like seeing you flirt with every other girl, she admitted.
I didn’t want to flirt with you before I knew I could make you my wife right after, Kaylen pleaded, utterly sincere. I didn’t want to start something I couldn’t finish properly. Whatever you need me to be, I can be, he said softly. I can Kaylen, Vellia interrupted. Are you seriously thinking that I broke off our engagement because of you? He tilted his head slightly.
Well, didn’t you? No, she wanted to shake him. Obviously not. Why would it be because of you? You’re perfect. Everyone adores you and why wouldn’t they? He looked confused. Then why? He asked. Because, she threw her free hand up. I’m a giant monster, obviously. People recoil at the sight of me. Or have you forgotten that part? Kaylen frowned.
You thought I would mind? He looked genuinely baffled. That’s why you broke it off? She watched, stunned, as his whole expression shifted, understanding dawning across his features, and then then relief. Pure and overwhelming. His whole body relaxed. He settled back against his pillows, a smile across his face, infuriatingly satisfied.
Oh, he said with a chuckle. Well, I’m glad that’s been cleared up. His smile widened. Now we can get married again. Vellia gaped at him. It’s not sorted, she finally managed. I’m still a monster. The other day I bit you and accidentally poisoned you. Oh, is that what it was? Kaylen said. His eyes were closed now.
Well, it was quite nice, he decided peacefully. I liked it. Kaylen, she scolded. He cracked one eye open. What? He asked. It was. It felt good. You can do it again. His smile turned into a pleased smirk. Everything else, too, he added. She rolled her eyes so hard it hurt. How can you not mind? She asked quietly.
He tugged her closer. I think it’s fantastic news that you’re a giant beast, my love, he said happily. Now you can just come with me to all my meetings and people won’t even think to argue with us about anything. They’ll be too terrified. She hit him on the shoulder and he laughed. Say you’ll marry me, he murmured, pulling her closer, nuzzling into her hair.
Kaylen, she sighed, melting. Say it. His arms came around her waist. I almost d.i.ed. I might d.i.e still if you shatter my heart again. She could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. Steady and strong. She rolled her eyes, but she kissed his forehead anyway. Soft, lingering. Is that a yes? He whispered. Vellia sighed. Fond.
Yes, she said. His grin could have lit the entire palace. He pulled her down properly then. Into the bed, into his arms. Tucking her against his chest like she belonged there. Like she had always belonged there. When, she supposed she had. Hi everyone. I hope you enjoyed this story.
To celebrate hitting 100,000 subscribers, I offered to release one of my exclusive Patreon stories for free. Normally reserved for members. And you got to choose. And the winner is The Last Dragon Bond. Her fiance turned into a dragon and disappeared. To find him, she must enter the very world she was raised to fear. You can listen to it for free right now on my Patreon.
Link in the description or pinned comment. And you can always find me there under Lilly’s Romance Library. Thank you for being here, and I’ll see you in the next story.
Disclaimer : This content may be created by AI for entertainment purposes. Any resemblance to real persons, events, or places is coincidental.
