Chapter Nine

Valeria had started in the direction of the room she had first been shown. Her steps slowed as she reached the door, her hand brushing lightly against the handle before she pushed it open and stepped inside. Valeria lingered for only a moment after the door shut behind her, her hand resting against the wood before she let it fall. She stood there, letting her eyes move across the space again as if something might have changed in the time she’d been gone.

The room looked exactly as it had before. Everything in place, everything untouched, everything arranged in a way that made it clear it had been prepared quickly, and without any real consideration for who would be staying in it.

Valeria stepped further inside. She had expected, at the very least, that someone would come for her. That they would correct it. That they would show her to the room they had so confidently claimed would be better suited for her.

Perhaps they had forgotten. Perhaps they intended to move her in the morning. Or perhaps it had been nothing more than a way to quiet her earlier, something said in the moment to smooth over an inconvenience they had never planned to fix.

The evening replayed itself, piece by piece, each moment settling differently now that she was alone. The King shut her down as if she had spoken out of turn. The Queen corrected her without raising her voice, without needing to. And Aurelia…

Valeria’s jaw tightened slightly.

Aurelia didn’t need to say much. She stood there, calm, like nothing in that room had been capable of moving her. That was what irritated Valeria most. Not what had been said, not even how it had been said, but how easily it had all been handled without her saying much.

Valeria turned toward the window, pulling the curtain aside just enough to look out. A storm had made its way, and it worsened with each second. Rain struck the glass in uneven streaks that blurred the land beyond. Lightning flashed briefly, casting the territory in a pale, fractured light before darkness returned. Thunder followed soon after, low and rolling through the sky, but her mind wandered backwards.

Fenrir hadn’t defended her.

The thought settled more firmly now, no longer something she could ignore. He hadn’t hesitated either. He had raised his voice at her, cut her off like she had overstepped, and then used his commanding voice to force the point; that subtle pressure that didn’t ask for obedience but took it anyway.

“She’s human,” Valeria muttered under her breath, her grip tightening slightly on the curtain. “That’s all she is.”

The words didn’t sit right. Not with the way Aurelia had stood in that room, not with how easily the others had listened to her, not with the way Fenrir had looked at her. Valeria let the curtain fall and turned away, pacing once across the room before stopping near the center. The silence pressed in again, more noticeable now, and for the first time since arriving, she felt it clearly; nothing here had changed because of her presence.

She didn’t like that.

Another crack of thunder split through the air, louder this time, close enough to rattle faintly against the walls. Valeria lifted her head slightly, the irritation settling into something sharper, more focused. If she wasn’t going to be given anything, she would take it herself.

She moved back to the door, pausing briefly to listen before stepping out into the corridor. The west wing had quieted, the distant sounds of doors closing and footsteps fading, leaving the halls mostly empty. She walked without direction, her pace steady as she moved through the long corridors, taking in the details without lingering on any of them. The storm carried through the palace in low echoes, thunder rolling faintly through the stone while lightning occasionally lit the windows along the walls.

Without realizing it, she drifted further than intended, the west wing meeting the east. The halls here felt more closed off, quieter. Another crack of thunder followed, sharper than before, the sound echoing through the corridor and lingering just long enough to draw her attention.

Movement caught at the edge of her vision.

Valeria slowed, turning her head slightly as two figures came into view at the far end of the adjoining corridor. Aurelia and her maid moved quickly, their pace uneven, as if something had already begun to happen before Valeria noticed them. She stepped back toward the wall, just enough to stay out of sight while still watching.

Aurelia didn’t make it far.

One moment she was walking, the next she dropped to her knees, her hands coming up to cover her ears as her posture folded. There was no control in it, no composure. The movement was abrupt, completely unlike the stillness she had carried earlier.

“I can hear them…”

The words reached faintly down the corridor.

“The screams… they’re too loud…”

Valeria didn’t move. She watched as the maid rushed to her side, crouching quickly and speaking in low, urgent tones. Whatever she said didn’t seem to reach her. Aurelia remained where she was for a moment longer before the maid helped her up, steadying her as they moved again, faster now, further into the east wing.

Valeria waited until they were out of sight before she stepped forward, following at a distance. She kept her pace measured, quiet enough not to be heard, close enough not to lose them. The corridors narrowed slightly as they moved deeper in, leading to a more private section of the palace.

Aurelia’s room.

The door was already open when Valeria reached the corner. She stopped just before it, watching as the maid guided Aurelia inside. For a brief moment, both disappeared from view. Then the maid came back out, moving quickly, her pace breaking into a near run as she disappeared down another corridor without hesitation.

Valeria’s attention shifted back to the open doorway.

Another flash of lightning cut through the hall, followed by thunder that rolled through the palace walls. She stepped forward slowly, her movements quiet as she reached the edge of the doorway and looked inside.

Aurelia was curled on the bed, her hands still pressed over her ears, her body drawn inward as she rocked slightly. Whatever composure she had carried before was gone entirely, replaced with something smaller, unsteady, and exposed in a way that hadn’t been visible earlier.

“The screams…”

Her voice was faint, uneven.

“They won’t… they won’t stop…”

Valeria watched her for a moment, taking in the difference without looking away. The contrast was too clear to ignore: the woman from earlier, calm and unshaken, and the one in front of her now, reduced to something fragile and pitiful.

Valeria let a small smirk form as she lingered just outside the doorway, her voice low.

“Not so tough now.”

The sound of hurried footsteps broke through the corridor behind her, approaching fast. Valeria turned slightly, already stepping back from the doorway before the figure could come into view. She moved quickly in the opposite direction, her pace controlled as she disappeared back into the halls before anyone could catch sight of her.

By the time the footsteps reached Aurelia’s room, Valeria was gone.

She slowed only after she had put enough distance between herself and the east wing, her expression settling as her thoughts replayed what she had seen. Aurelia, on her knees, covering her ears, her voice breaking as she tried to block out something no one else could hear.

Valeria let out a quiet breath as she smirked, the faintest hint of satisfaction settling beneath it.

She wouldn’t forget that.

**

Fenrir didn’t intend to leave his room. The night had settled too heavily for sleep. By the time he reached for the door and opened it, the sound of approaching footsteps caught his attention before he could step fully out.

He looked up just as Valeria turned the corner. That alone was enough to pull his focus, because it did not match the way she had left earlier.

“What are you doing out here?” he asked, his voice low, carrying easily through the quiet corridor.

Valeria didn’t slow. If anything, her expression shifted the moment she saw him, whatever had lingered from before smoothing into something lighter, almost amused. “I couldn’t sleep,” she said, as though it were the simplest answer in the world. “This place is too quiet.”

Fenrir watched her as she came to a stop in front of him, his gaze lingering just long enough to catch the difference in her mood.

“And wandering the halls fixes that?” he asked.

Valeria tilted her head slightly, her lips curving faintly. “I wanted to see what all the praise was about.” Her gaze flicked briefly past him toward his room before returning. “I’m still not impressed.”

There was something deliberate in the way she stepped closer, something that made it clear she had already decided what would happen next. She didn’t wait for permission. She didn’t need it. She moved past him easily, her shoulder brushing his arm as she stepped into his room as if she belonged there.

Fenrir followed, closing the door behind him without comment.

“You’re not supposed to be here either,” he said, though there was no real weight behind it.

Valeria turned to face him, her expression softening in a way that was far more intentional than it had been before. “Then send me away.”

He didn’t.

She took that as an answer.

Valeria closed the distance again, slower this time, her gaze fixed on his as her hand lifted and settled against his chest, her touch familiar, something she had never had to think about. “You didn’t defend me earlier,” she said quietly, her tone lacking the sharpness it had held before.

“You didn’t need defending,” Fenrir replied evenly.

“That’s not how it felt.”

Her hand remained where it was, her fingers pressing lightly into the fabric of his shirt as she studied him for a moment longer, as if deciding whether to press further. Then she let it go just as easily as she had brought it up, her expression shifting once more.

“Forget it,” she murmured. “It doesn’t matter.”

Her hand moved again, sliding higher along his chest, her touch more deliberate now as she leaned into him, her presence closing the space between them. There was no hesitation in her. This was something she understood, something she knew how to control.

Her lips met his, and this time, there was nothing tentative about it. She guided the moment easily, pulling him, something that did not require thought. Fenrir responded without resistance, his hand settling firmly at her waist as she pressed closer, her movements steady.

Valeria leaned into him fully, her hands moving with purpose, her fingers finding the edge of his shirt and slipping beneath it, her warm touch against his skin. She shifted with him as he stepped back, guiding him until the edge of the bed met him and he sat, her presence following without pause as she settled over him, her focus narrowing to the moment.

This was where she held control.

Her hands moved again, more certain now, her fingers sliding across his chest as she began to pull the fabric of his shirt upward, her touch brushing directly over the sigil without thought.

Fenrir stiffened.

The reaction was immediate.

The moment her skin made contact with it, the pain ignited.

It tore through him without warning, sharp and blinding, stealing the breath from him as his entire body tensed beneath her. His hand snapped to his chest instinctively, his fingers pressing hard against the place she had just touched as if he could stop it.

Valeria froze, her hands stilling as she felt the shift in him. “Fenrir...?”

He didn’t answer.

The sigil burned beneath his skin, searing and immediate, the heat spreading outward from the point of contact like something had been awakened. His breath came out uneven, strained, his body tightening as the pain surged through him again, stronger this time.

Valeria pulled back slightly, confusion replacing the confidence she had carried only moments before. “What’s happening?”

Another wave hit him before he could respond.

It was worse this time, sharp enough to break whatever hold he had on himself as he leaned forward abruptly, a strained breath tearing from him as his grip tightened against his chest. The burning intensified, relentless in its spread.

He couldn’t hold himself upright.

Fenrir dropped from the bed without catching himself, his knees hitting the floor with a heavy impact as his other hand braced against the ground. His breathing turned rough, uneven, each inhale shallow as the pain continued to burn through him, sharp and consuming.

The sigil felt like it was being carved into him all over again.

Valeria stood frozen where she was, watching him, her earlier certainty gone, replaced with something far less steady as she took a step back.

“Fenrir, what's going on...”

A scream cut through the corridor.

It was sharp, sudden, and unmistakably human.

The sound carried through the walls, loud enough to break through everything, to pull attention away from the moment entirely. It echoed once, then faded, leaving behind a silence that felt heavier than the sound itself.

Fenrir’s head snapped toward the door despite the pain still gripping him, his breathing uneven as the worst of it began to recede, leaving behind a dull, throbbing heat beneath his skin.

The timing was too precise.

Too exact.

Valeria felt it too, though she didn’t understand it, her gaze shifting toward the door before returning to him, her expression tightening as the room settled into something unfamiliar.

“What was that?” she asked, quieter now.

Fenrir didn’t answer.

Slowly, he pushed himself up from the floor, his hand still pressed to his chest as the last of the sharp pain faded into something that lingered beneath his skin. His attention didn’t return to her.

It stayed fixed on the door, on the corridor beyond it… on the scream that had come at the exact moment the sigil burned at her touch.