Chapter 005. His Tricky Offer

Saeris swallowed.

Black button-down rolled at the sleeves, dark jeans fitted far too well for sanity … Mother boil her! … he was a casual devastation. Her stomach tightened. Not in fear. That would’ve been easier to admit.

How did he know where she lived? Better yet—how long had he known?

“Who is it?” Ianthe’s voice floated in from behind. "You need me to—" Her voice died the moment her gaze landed on him.

Her friend’s eyes widened, awe slipping past her usually sharp composure. “Holy Mother Moon…” she whispered.

There was no power radiating off him. No dominant pulse of energy screaming Lycan. He’d hidden it well, reeled it in so carefully that to anyone else, he might seem just another wolf male. But even muted, Vaelen was… undeniable. His presence alone whispered more. More strength. More danger. More control than any wolf in their pack could ever hope to possess.

Ianthe glanced between them, saw the way Saeris’s body stilled in his presence. The way…

“I’ll, uh… check on my nieces,” She trailed off, giving Saeris a look of… I’ll be close. Then clearing her throat, she added, “Make sure they’re not setting the house on fire.”

And with that, she slipped out the still-open door, giving Vaelen a wide berth.

“May I come in?”

Saeris’s throat worked around the dry burn of her answer. “Yes. Of course.”

Stupid. Stupid girl.

If she had any sense, she’d be slamming the door, casting a ward, lighting sage, anything to stop him from walking through that threshold.

But she let him in.

It was unfair, how good he smelled. Like the mountains in the north, and entirely male. But whatever warmth flickered in her chest died swiftly. Her father. She glanced towards the narrow staircase. If he sensed a Lycan in the house…

She clenched her jaw. Fought the urge to pace. Where the hell was wine? Was she supposed to offer him something? Tea?

Vaelen’s gaze paused on the stack of books beside her reading chair, the half-burnt candle on the mantel, the photo of her and her mother from ten winters ago.

Saeris stood awkwardly in the center of the room, fingers twitching at her sides. And the question—the question—burned through her. She asked it before fear could smother her boldness. “Why did you spare me?” she said quietly. “At Silver Cove.”

He didn’t turn. “Would you have preferred I didn’t?”

No, no—fuck, no.

“No, I just—” she faltered. Then swallowed. Hard. He looked capable of doing exactly that. Of not sparing her, just to make a point. And if that were the case… why was she still speaking to him like she mattered?

So she let it go. “Why are you here?”

Vaelen stepped forward, and Saeris fought the urge to back away. “Because it was obvious you needed saving,” he drawled. Unforgivably calm. “And now, it’s obvious again.”

She arched her brow.

“I can help.”

Three simple words. But they shifted the room.

“I can help restore your scent,” he added. “And your wolf.”

Saeris froze.

It felt like someone had torn open her chest and poured light straight into it. Bright and blinding and terrifying.

“How do you know that?” Her voice came out too thin.

Vaelen offered a slow shrug. A movement far too elegant to be casual. “Last night. I couldn’t smell your wolf but I could smell you.” A pause. “Werewolves have two scents. Theirs, and the one their wolf carries. Your wolf’s was silent. It takes pure blood to detect that fault, especially when they’re not mated.”

He was pure blood, then. And a king.

And what he said—it confirmed everything she feared. That scent was everything. The scent of her wolf was her identity, her shield. Without it… what was she? Nothing but a body waiting to be devoured. And if the others ever found out—if the pack ever learned the truth… that she couldn’t shift anymore. That her wolf had gone silent. That she didn’t even smell like she was hers anymore—

Then she wouldn’t just be Gemma’s perfect little tragedy.

“And when there’s no wolf scent,” Vaelen purred, “then something is very… very wrong with the wolf.” He took a step closer. The light shifted over his sharp cheekbones. “Your precious Alpha didn’t just choose another. He couldn’t even recognize you with no scent and wolf. And the other he was drawn to had blinded him.”

“What do you know about it?” she asked, voice low, brittle as frost.

He smiled then. “More than you think.” The kind of smile only someone like him could wear and get away with.

Saeris tried to calm her heartbeat, her breathing. He could probably hear it all—taste it in the air, even.

“Well?” he pressed.

Was he here to mock her desperation?

He could be bluffing, baiting her into needing him. Or… he might truly know a way—whatever the case may be, she needed help. But still.

“How much,” he said softly, “are you willing to risk… on the hope that he’ll come back to you? You…without a wolf and a scent.”

She squared her shoulders and chose not to balk from that gold stare. “Why would you help me?”

“Because I need something in return.”

There it was. The catch. And he didn't even deny it.

“Come to the North,” he said, voice silken. “To my territory…Tenebrous.” His eyes locked onto hers. Unflinching. “Pretend to be my mate.”

Saeris actually laughed.

“You’re joking.”

“Lycans have a reputation for being... unpredictable,” he acknowledged with a slight tilt of his head. Such grace contained in such a powerful form. “But I assure you, my offer is sincere.”

“Why would a king need a fake mate?”

Vaelen’s gaze dipped to her lips for a beat too long. “Kings have plenty of reasons for the things they do.” And then—then—that smile. Like he was deciding how much to show her. How much to tempt her. “But if you say yes, you won’t have to waste time figuring out how to fix what’s been taken from you.” His golden eyes glittered. “And you’ll be far, far away from this place.”

Saeris’s mouth went dry.

There were rumors about the North, about the cities ruled by Kings, not Alphas…and none of them were good. Even standing here talking to Vaelen already made her skin prickle. Going to his territory, pretending to be his mate?… That was an entirely different kind of madness.

When she didn’t respond, he added, “One month. If you’re unhappy, I’ll bring you back.”

Simple.

She met his gaze. There was nothing kind in it. Charming, but not kind. Yet.

“And if my scent isn’t restored by then?” she asked. “If my wolf doesn’t return?”

Vaelen’s lips curved, no teeth. “Then I extend our arrangement. Until both are returned to you.”

It shouldn’t have made her stomach twist. But it did.

Saeris turned away, dragging herself to the end of the small living room. The logical part of her brain screamed at her to refuse, to throw this dangerous man out of her house. Pretend she still had choices. But what choice did she have? Stay here, scentless and wolfless…mateless to say the least, and watch her mate and Gemma together?

Moreover, it wasn't like she knew where to begin.

So she summoned her energy as best she could and sauntered over to him, trying to remember what she might have done months ago, before her world had gone to hell.

Saeris stopped a foot away. "On one condition."

“And what might that be?”

His expression was that of a male who knew he’d already won. But she couldn’t stop now, couldn’t turn back, not like the goddess or the moon or the threads of fate readied to shove her mate back to her without effort.

“My father. Someone needs to look after him while I’m gone.”

Vaelen was silent for a long moment, his eyes traveling across her body and her face before he murmured: “Consider it done.”

She held his gaze for one final breath, knowing full well that this deal would cost her something she hadn’t yet named.

“Then it’s a deal,” she said.