Chapter 2

Darius’s POV

The ballroom music swelled behind me like nothing had happened.

Liora’s fingers were still curled around my forearm, her perfume cloying, lilies and ambition. She leaned in closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear as she whispered, “Shall we continue the introductions, my King? Everyone is waiting.”

I didn’t answer.

My wolf was screaming.

MINE. MINE. MINE.

The word ricocheted through my skull, raw and relentless, drowning out every other thought. The golden bond I had just publicly severed still pulsed faintly in my chest like a severed artery leaking heat. Every beat sent another wave of her scent crashing over me, moonflowers crushed under rain, wild honey, something darker and older beneath it. Something that made my canines ache.

I had rejected her.

Out loud. In front of the entire realm.

And my body was punishing me for it.

I shook Liora’s hand off, gently enough not to cause a scene and stepped away from the dais. “Excuse me.”

Her smile faltered for half a second before she recovered, turning to charm the nearest Alpha instead.

I strode through the side corridor, claws digging into my palms until blood welled between my fingers. Guards snapped to attention as I passed, but I didn’t acknowledge them. My wolf clawed at the inside of my skin, demanding I track her down, drag her back, pin her to the nearest wall and—

No.

I slammed the door of my private chambers behind me so hard the frame cracked.

The room was dim, lit only by the low fire in the hearth and moonlight spilling through tall windows. I braced both hands on the mantel, head bowed, breathing hard. My reflection stared back from the polished silver mirror above, eyes still half-shifted, silver irises ringed with black, pupils blown wide.

Her scent clung to me.

Even here, miles from where she had run, it wrapped around my throat like a noose. Sweet. Intoxicating. Impossible to ignore.

I had smelled thousands of she-wolves in my lifetime. None had ever done this.

My heart throbbed painfully, straining against my ribcage. I pressed the heel of my hand against it, trying to ease the ache. It only made it worse.

A knock.

“Enter,” I growled.

Beta Rowan stepped inside, eyes wary. “My King. The ball continues without incident. Liora is… handling the guests.”

“Good.” My voice came out rougher than intended.

He hesitated. “The girl, Elara Voss. She fled into the gardens. Do you want guards sent after her?”

“No.” The word snapped out too fast. Too sharp.

Rowan’s brows lifted slightly.

I straightened, forcing calm into my tone. “She’s banished from the hall tonight. That’s enough. Let her sulk.”

He nodded once and retreated.

The door clicked shut.

I waited exactly three heartbeats.

Then I summoned her.

I did not use the mind-link. It was too public, too traceable and she didn't even have her wolf yet. She was more or less a human. Instead I sent one of my personal guards with a quiet order: “Bring the wolfless handmaid to my chambers. Discreetly. Now.”

Ten minutes later, the door opened again.

She stepped inside alone.

Elara Voss. I didn't even know her full name when I rejected her. 

She was still in that damp gray dress, champagne stains dark against the fabric, clinging to the swell of her breasts and the dip of her waist. Her hair had come partially loose, strands sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks. Blood had dried beneath her nose in a thin rusty line. Her bare feet left faint wet prints on the rug.

She kept her eyes on the floor.

My wolf lunged so hard I almost shifted.

I crossed the room in three strides, stopping just short of touching her. Close enough that her scent flooded me again, overwhelming, addictive. My hands flexed at my sides, claws pricking my palms. Hadn't I just rejected her? Why does she still have this effect on me?

“Look at me.”

She lifted her chin slowly.

Those eyes—storm-gray, rimmed with red from crying met mine.

She was breathtakingly beautiful, I wondered how I never noticed her. 

The bond might have snapped on my command, but the pull was still there. As strong as ever.

Heat rolled off her in waves. I could smell her arousal beneath the salt of tears and fear…slick, sweet, undeniable. My mouth watered. I swallowed hard.

“You refused to kneel in the hall,” I said, voice low. “But you’ll kneel here.”

Her lips parted on a soft inhale.

I stepped closer until our bodies were almost brushing against each other. The heat of her skin radiated through the thin dress. I could see the rapid flutter of her pulse at her throat, the way her chest moved up and down from her ragged breathing. 

“I rejected you as Luna,” I continued, letting my voice drop to a rumble. “But I did not reject this.”

I dragged one knuckle slowly down the side of her neck, following the line of her pounding vein. She shivered—full-body, uncontrollable.

“My wolf wants you,” I murmured. “Badly. And so do I.”

Her breath hitched.

“Be my mistress.”

The words hung between us.

“Hidden. Discreet. No crown, no title, no public claim. But you’ll have my bed. My protection. Freedom whenever I want it.” I leaned in until my lips brushed the shell of her ear. “You’ll come when I call. Spread for me. Take me deep until you forget your own name. And in return, I’ll make sure no one ever hurts you again.”

Her body trembled.

I slid my hand to her waist, fingers splaying possessively. The dress was so thin I could feel the heat of her skin, the slight curve of her hip. I pulled her flush against me—let her feel exactly how my body needed her, how thick, how ready.

She gasped softly.

One of my hands slid up, cupping the back of her neck, thumb brushing the sensitive spot beneath her ear. I tilted her head back, forcing her to meet my gaze.

“Say yes.” I nudged.

“You know I could take you by force if I had my way. But somehow my wolf restrains me. He wants us to be gentle with you for some reason.”

“Any woman would jump at this offer.” I said again when she wouldn't say anything. 

For a long moment she was silent.

Then she spoke, voice quiet but steady.

“No.”

The word hit like a slap.

My grip tightened involuntarily.

She didn’t flinch.

“I will not be your secret,” she said. “I will not be anyone’s shame.”

Rage and lust collided in my chest.

My wolf snarled.

I released her abruptly and stepped back, claws fully extended now, shredding the arms of the nearest chair as I gripped it to keep from grabbing her again.

“Get out.”

She didn’t hesitate.

She turned and walked to the door, shoulders straight despite everything.

The door closed behind her with a soft click.

I stood there, breathing hard, heart still aching, wolf howling in fury.

She had refused me.

No one refused me.

And yet the only thing I could think about was chasing her down, pinning her to the forest floor, and proving exactly who she belonged to.