Chapter 26

I woke to the sound of rain tapping against my window, the kind of soft, steady rhythm that made the rest of the castle seem unnaturally quiet. The air held the faint metallic scent that always came before a storm.

The knock came next—measured, deliberate, and just familiar enough that my pulse betrayed me.

I opened the door, and there he was. Kael, rain dripping from the ends of his hair, eyes lit like gold against the dim hallway.

“You’re up,” he said.

I glanced pointedly at the gray morning light. “Not all of us sleep until noon.”

A faint smirk. “I don’t sleep.”

I stepped aside to let him in. “That’s healthy.”

His gaze slid over me—bare feet, loose shirt, hair mussed from sleep—and lingered just long enough to make me aware of every inch of myself. “We need to talk,” he said.

“That sounds ominous.”

“It is.”

We sat at the small table by the window. He didn’t waste time with pleasantries.

“The court is moving faster than I expected,” he said. “Last night’s meeting wasn’t just a warning. They’ve started aligning factions—wolves who will side with them if this turns into a war.”

The words sat heavy between us.

“I thought wolves hated vampire politics,” I said.

“They do,” he replied. “But they hate uncertainty more. And right now, they think I’m… compromised.”

I didn’t miss the way his eyes held mine when he said it.

“You mean because of me.”

He didn’t answer, which was answer enough.

“So what—you’re here to tell me we should stop talking? Pretend we hate each other?”

“That’s not happening.” His voice was sharp enough to cut through the tension.

I blinked. “You sound awfully sure.”

“I am,” he said, leaning forward. “But we have to be careful. The wrong move, the wrong look in public… they’ll use it.”

The way he was looking at me now didn’t feel particularly careful.

Later, we went to the inner market—not because it was safe, but because Kael insisted it was important to be seen. The rain had turned the cobblestone streets slick, the air thick with the smell of wet stone and roasting chestnuts.

We walked close enough that his shoulder occasionally brushed mine, and I pretended it was because the streets were crowded.

Everywhere we went, eyes followed us—some curious, some wary, and a few openly hostile. I caught whispers in the air. Words like wolf, vampire, and traitor tangled together.

Kael’s hand found the small of my back again, steering me toward a side street.

“You’re enjoying this,” I muttered.

“I’m enjoying not having to shove people out of the way to keep them from bumping into you.”

“You’re a terrible liar.”

He stopped, turning so quickly I almost walked into him. “And you,” he said, voice low, “are getting too comfortable challenging me in public.”

I tilted my chin up. “Maybe I like the risk.”

His gaze dropped to my mouth for a fraction of a second, so fast I almost missed it. “Careful, Astrid,” he said, and then he started walking again, leaving me standing in the rain with my pulse racing.

When we returned to the castle, Lucien was waiting in the entry hall, leaning against one of the marble columns like he’d been rehearsing it.

“You’ve been busy,” he said.

“Is there a reason you’re blocking the way?” Kael asked, his tone pure ice.

Lucien’s eyes flicked to me. “Actually, yes. I was sent to fetch Astrid.”

I frowned. “By who?”

“The queen,” he said smoothly. “She’s hosting a supper. She wants you there.”

“I wasn’t aware we were friends,” I muttered.

“You’re not,” Lucien said cheerfully. “Which is why you should be very nervous.”

Kael stepped closer, his presence instantly shadowing mine. “She’s not going alone.”

Lucien smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re not invited.”

That went over about as well as throwing a lit match into dry brush.

“I’m going,” Kael said.

“You’re not,” Lucien countered. “And if you show up uninvited, the queen will make a point of reminding everyone just how little authority you have here.”

The silence between them was sharp enough to draw blood. Finally, Kael looked at me. “If anything feels wrong—anything—you leave.”

I nodded, but we both knew he wasn’t reassured.

The queen’s supper was exactly what I expected—lavish, cold, and full of people pretending to smile. The long dining table glittered with crystal goblets and gold-edged plates, but the air was thick with quiet malice.

The queen herself was radiant in a gown of deep crimson, her dark hair woven with silver threads. She greeted me like an old friend, which was my first warning sign.

“Astrid,” she said, her voice like velvet lined with steel. “You’ve been quite the topic lately.”

“I’d say I’m flattered, but I’m not sure that’s true,” I replied.

Her smile sharpened. “You’ve been seen in the company of Kael Veyrin quite often. Tell me… is it true what they say?”

“What do they say?” I asked, though I already knew.

“That you’ve forgotten where your loyalties lie.”

I met her gaze without flinching. “My loyalties are to peace.”

“Peace,” she repeated, tasting the word like it was foreign. “A noble answer. But peace often demands sacrifices.”

“And whose sacrifice would that be?” I asked.

Her smile didn’t falter, but her eyes said she’d heard the challenge. “That depends on the choices you make.”

By the time I left, I felt like I’d been walking a knife’s edge for hours. The moment I stepped into the hall, Kael was there, leaning against the wall as if he’d been waiting the whole time.

“Did she—”

“She was subtle,” I said. “But not subtle enough.”

His eyes searched mine, like he could read what I wasn’t saying. “You’re pale.”

“It’s called candlelight,” I said.

He didn’t smile. “You shouldn’t have gone without me.”

“You know I didn’t have a choice.”

“There’s always a choice,” he said, but there was no judgment in it—only frustration.

We walked in silence until we reached my door. Then, just before I stepped inside, his hand caught mine.

“Astrid.”

I turned, startled by the way my name sounded in his voice—low, rough, almost like a plea.

“I don’t care what they say,” he said. “I don’t care who’s watching. I’m not letting them use you.”

The heat in my chest had nothing to do with the rain outside. “Then I guess we’ll just have to watch each other’s backs.”

His mouth curved, but his eyes were still serious. “Always.”

I didn’t sleep well. Dreams tangled with memories—Kael in the rain, the queen’s cold smile, the way his hand had felt against mine.

When I woke before dawn, I found myself walking toward the training yard again. I told myself it was for practice, but part of me hoped he’d be there.

He was. Shirtless this time, because of course he was. His breath misted in the cold air, muscles shifting as he moved through a series of strikes with a spear.

“You’re going to catch pneumonia,” I called.

He glanced at me, and the faintest smirk touched his mouth. “Worried about me?”

“More like wondering if wolves are immune to common sense.”

He set the spear aside. “Come here.”

I hesitated. “That sounded like a trap.”

“Only if you make it one.”

I stepped closer, the cold air biting at my skin. He reached out, taking my wrist—not hard, but firm enough to pull me into his space.

“You keep showing up here,” he said.

“Maybe I like watching you train.”

“Maybe,” he said, his gaze dropping to my mouth again, “you like something else.”

I didn’t move. Neither did he. The air between us was charged, the rain from the night before still lingering in the stones beneath our feet.

Then, without warning, he let go. “Pick up a blade,” he said.

I groaned. “I knew it was a trap.”

But I picked one up anyway.

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