Realization

AURELIA

Aurelia found herself gazing at her own reflection in the full-length mirror. On the outside, she didn’t look broken, save for the bruises hidden beneath her turtleneck gown.

But on the inside, a dark force was growing, feeding off her pain and confusion.

She’d never felt so lost before.

Back in her simple village, where the most exciting thing was gathering herbs from the forest, she knew her place. But in this strange castle filled with cruel people, she felt like a fish out of water.

She was sure the goddess had made a mistake.

There was no way that brutal man was meant for her. He didn’t know how to love like a mate should. Why didn’t Aurelia deserve love?

Kenna was braiding her hair, humming a sweet tune. Aurelia didn’t even know songs could be learned in this castle.

“What song is that?” Aurelia asked.

“I can stop, my queen.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she replied, her tone gentle.

“My mother was from a village outside the capital. She loved to sing. One day, the king’s army stormed their village.

“My father was a warrior wolf. She sang to him to calm him down. She did the same for me when I was born,” Kenna explained.

“You have a beautiful voice. Keep singing,” Aurelia encouraged.

She hadn’t heard music since... Since her days in the village choir. They used to sing hymns to lift their spirits in tough times.

But being ostracized had also cut her off from the activities she once found magical.

“Thank you, my queen,” Kenna replied, and resumed her song.

As Kenna sang, Aurelia found herself joining in, creating a harmony that felt out of place in the castle. Yet Alastair couldn’t stop it.

He sat in his battle room, listening to his mate’s angelic voice echoing from his chambers across the castle. He didn’t know why he’d been so rough with her.

But now, she was finally scared of him. He would have thought it was his demon eyes that did it, but he could smell both fear and arousal.

“How did she do it?” Henri asked, baffled by the future queen’s victory over Nero.

“Nero is my best warrior and he can fight much better than that,” Vidarr declared.

They were distracting the king from the music. But he was just as curious.

Her proud declaration of victory had infuriated him. She thought she could humiliate his warriors without consequences.

“Did you ask him what happened?” Laurent asked.

“Yes. He didn’t know. He said something overcame him and he suddenly felt sluggish. Maybe she did something.”

“Silver?” Henri suggested.

The king watched the group talk as if they had any idea what was going on. He had underestimated his little mate, and it irked him.

She was sensitive to silver herself, and silver doesn’t just slow wolves down—it burns. No, she did something else.

“We have more important matters to discuss,” Alastair declared, bringing the wolves’ attention back to their leader.

“Of course, my king,” Laurent agreed, steering the conversation back on track. “Fae activity at the border has increased significantly. It’s as if they’re waiting for something. How should we handle it?”

Alastair didn’t notice that the music had stopped, that Aurelia had left their chambers and was creeping closer to the battle room.

She wanted to hear their weaknesses, the problems they were facing, and use them to her advantage to escape.

“The fae have always been a major threat, we can’t ignore the fact that they’re gathering at the border,” Henri said.

Aurelia hadn’t heard much about the fae. She thought they’d all been wiped out. But from what she was hearing, the fae were very much alive and thriving outside the kingdom.

She didn’t know what lay beyond the kingdom. She didn’t even know where the borders were. Her mind flashed back to the day at the stream.

Her birthday. The day she was taken from everything she knew.

She had met water nymphs beyond the border—friends of the fae, Solandis and Naida. The power she had felt across the water was unlike anything in the kingdom. A power similar to the one coursing through her body.

“I will wipe out every last fae. None of them will survive. They’re gathering at the border to attack. The high priests are predicting a war to end all wars. And we will win,” the king declared.

He sounded so sure that Aurelia found herself believing him.

The fae were the enemy. Why didn’t they cross the border and attack if they were such a threat?

Suddenly, all conversation stopped. The door swung open. The king stormed out, the floor trembling beneath him.

Aurelia’s eyes widened as his landed on her. A wicked smirk spread across his face.

The other wolves followed him out, glaring at the young wolf as if she needed to be intimidated more.

“I would have thought you’d learned your lesson by now,” the king sneered, taking a step toward Aurelia.

“I-I have, y-your grace,” Aurelia stammered, her eyes dropping to her feet under his overpowering presence.

“What are you doing here, little wolf? I don’t recall summoning you.”

“I-I was exploring?” Her response sounded more like a question. She was spying. And she knew the king wouldn’t take kindly to spies.

“Leave us,” the king ordered. The other wolves scattered, leaving the little wolf trembling under the larger one’s shadow.

Her lower lip quivered, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears, and her defiance seemed to evaporate.

She opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but the words got stuck in her throat. His stern gaze made her stomach churn, and his unreadable expression sent a whirlwind of emotions through her.

Every silent moment that passed amplified the knot in her stomach and the tightness in her chest. She wanted to know her punishment rather than endure this limbo of uncertainty.

“You know, little wolf,” he murmured in a tantalizing tone, both arousing his mate and terrifying her with his calmness.

He moved closer, backing her up until she was pressed against the wall. There was no way out. He was right there, so close, and yet he moved even closer.

His hands rested on either side of her head, bending down so their eyes could meet. His gaze was intense, as if she was guilty of a thousand sins.

Her breath hitched, silent tears streaming down her face. She knew he would hurt her. He was cruel enough to harm his own mate.

“If I found any other wolf snooping around, I’d slit their throat without a second thought,” he hissed, his hot breath brushing against her face. “But you... my little wolf...”

He slung her over his shoulder, her arm draped over him so that her shoulder felt like it was about to dislocate. She froze as he walked with his regal stride, knowing that any resistance would only make things worse.

When he finally stopped, he tossed her onto the rough stone floor of their chambers. She had expected to be taken to a silver cell, or even worse, the dungeons.

She had heard of them. The eternal dungeons. They were said to hold the king’s enemies, those who had been sentenced to eternal punishment.

They prayed for death, but the king was more powerful than Hades himself, who wished to drag their souls to the underworld.

The king kept them alive, tortured, haunted, like ghosts themselves.

And he enjoyed it. How twisted was this king—her mate?

Yet, to Aurelia, those nightmarish dungeons seemed more appealing.

He pulled her to her feet and backed her up against another wall. Shock rippled through her body like shivers in the cold.

She coughed slightly, trying to catch her breath, but it was pointless when the king gripped her neck.

“What the fuck were you listening for, Aurelia? A way to destroy me?” he growled, showing his razor-sharp fangs.

His eyes flickered uncontrollably between three colors: gold, black, red.

“N-no. Y-you are my m-mate,” she whimpered.

“Lying to the king? Are you sure you don’t want to rethink your answer?” he snarled.

Then, something clicked within her. A realization coursed through her mind. She could see through the king, her mate, even if he didn’t want her to.

He was a paranoid man. More so than he should have been. He had no one he could trust, for he made everyone his subject. No one to turn to for honest advice.

And everyone, therefore, was a threat to his reign.

She didn’t know what came over her, but her realization spurred her into action.

She pressed her lips to his. A wave of tingles spread through her body at the contact. He didn’t pull away. Instead, he took control instantly, his need to dominate her overpowering his anger.

The surprise of their sudden kiss caught Alastair off guard. But then, it was an interesting turn of events for him. He had wanted to punish her ruthlessly, but he wanted this more.

Her lips against his were more arousing than anything he had ever experienced.

He forced his tongue into her mouth, expecting resistance, but she allowed him. In fact, she was more submissive than she had been since she arrived.

Alastair tore her dress, the sound of ripping fabric filling the room along with their passionate kissing.

There, in front of the king, stood his beautiful mate in only a white linen chemise. It was as if all his anger and paranoia had melted away at her touch. He couldn’t understand it, and he didn’t have time to.

Though he knew he would regret his actions later. Instead of showing his mate her place, he was giving in to his desires, and hers.

He pushed her onto the bed, her wide ocean-blue eyes reflecting his actions, and he crawled on top of her. She looked so tempting, the sleeve of her clothing slipping off her shoulder.

His hand slipped under the fabric while she remained silent, staring at him. As his fingers met her wetness, she let out a soft moan.

Thrusting his fingers inside her with full force, his other hand gripped her neck with intoxicating fervor. He pounded into her, enjoying the sight of her beneath him, releasing pained sounds and whimpers.

He wasn’t a man who made love. Or anything like that. But she... was so small, delicate, beautiful. Such beauty was unparalleled in this kingdom; he was certain of that.

Then he had a realization. He understood that she was a siren. She was luring him with her appearance, making him forget about her sins.

Pulling his fingers from inside her, she whined softly at the loss of contact. He placed his hand back on her neck and squeezed tightly.

Power surged within him, his blood boiling with ferocity.

“Answer me this, little wolf. Why were you spying on me?” he demanded.

“I-I...” She relaxed beneath him, slowing her breathing. She had to answer him confidently for him to believe her. “You were mad at me and I wanted to apologize. I didn’t want to interrupt so I waited.”

He didn’t respond. Just stared. Deeply. Like she was missing something.

He was mulling over her words. He assessed her body language and concluded that she was telling the truth. Perhaps she was trying to be the respectful obedient mate after all.

“So?” he asked.

“I am truly sorry,” she replied instantly.

A knock at the door interrupted them and a growl escaped from the king. He didn’t appreciate the interruption.

“My king, there is an attack within the castle walls. One of the warrior wolves has turned rabid,” Laurent shouted through the door.

Furious at the news of an attack from one of his own soldiers, Alastair quickly fixed his clothing, dressed Aurelia roughly, and pulled her out with him.

She would have to wait while he dealt with this problem.