LOGINHer fingers moved against the blanket. “But I know what it feels like when someone takes your choices away from you. I know what it feels like to be trapped by someone else’s decisions.” She paused. “That doesn’t excuse what you did to me.” “I know,” he whispered. “I don’t forgive you for what you did, Kael.” He lowered his eyes. Aria felt the sting of the words even as she spoke them. Not because they were untrue, but because she could see how carefully he was preparing himself to accept them. She reached for his hand. He looked down as her fingers touched his. “But I don’t hate you anymore.” Kael stopped breathing for a moment. Aria gave his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’m not saying everything is fixed. It isn’t. I’m not saying I trust you completely, because I don’t know if I can yet. And I’m not promising that tomorrow I’ll wake up and suddenly be able to forget everything that happened between us.” She watched him closely. “But when I think about you now, I don’t only
The palace had fallen silent by the time Kael reached Aria’s door. A few lamps still burned along the corridor, their weak golden light stretching across the polished floor. Somewhere beyond the tall windows, the wind moved through the trees, brushing branches against the stone walls with a soft, irregular scratching. The guards stationed near the medical wing straightened when they saw their Alpha approaching, but neither dared to speak. Kael barely acknowledged them. His steps slowed as he reached the door. For several seconds, he stood there with one hand resting against the wood, staring at the narrow strip of light beneath it. He had given orders to entire packs without hesitation. He had faced enemies who wanted his head and watched warriors twice his size lower their eyes when he entered a room. Yet a single closed door had kept him standing in a corridor like a man who had forgotten what he came to do. Aria was awake. The healer had told him so earlier. She had opened he
Aria lowered her gaze to the blanket. She rubbed its edge between her thumb and forefinger, feeling the weave catch against her skin. “What did you do with yourself?” she asked. Mira blinked. “What?” “While I was sleeping.” Aria glanced at her. “You couldn’t have sat beside me every hour of every day.” Mira let out a short breath that almost became a laugh. “You would be surprised what a person can do when she has absolutely no intention of leaving someone alone.” “Mira.” “All right.” Mira settled back into the chair beside the bed. “I didn’t sit here every hour. The healers would have dragged me out by my hair if I had. They made me eat, sleep, bathe, and perform all the other tiresome activities required to remain alive.” “And you listened?” “Occasionally.” “Mira.” “I listened when they threatened to lock me out.” Despite the ache in her body, Aria felt the corner of her mouth lift. It vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. “What happened after the battle?” she aske
Her breathing had become uneven, and she could feel her heart beating too quickly beneath her ribs. “Kael…” His name escaped her in a whisper. Mira leaned closer. “Aria?” Aria turned toward her, her expression strained with confusion. “What happened after that?” Mira went still. Aria searched her face, desperately trying to find an answer there. “I remember the clearing. I remember my father attacking him, and then…” Her voice faltered. She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “I saw Kael kill him. I think I did. I remember falling, and then everything went dark.” She paused, trying to reach beyond the last fragment of memory. There was nothing. No sound. No movement. No image of what had happened afterward. Only an empty stretch of darkness. “What happened after that?” she asked again, more urgently this time. “I can’t remember.” Mira’s face crumpled. She tried to answer, but the first sound that escaped her was a broken sob. Aria stared at her. “Mira?” “I t
The door opened quietly. Aria’s eyes shifted toward the sound, though the movement alone seemed to require more effort than she could spare. Mira stepped into the room carrying a tray, holding it carefully with both hands to keep the dishes from rattling against one another. The faint smell of warm broth reached Aria before Mira had even crossed half the room. “I brought you something to eat,” Mira said softly. She approached the bed and set the tray on the small table beside it. A bowl of broth sat beside a plate of soft bread, along with a glass of water and a small dish of food Aria couldn’t quite identify from where she lay. Steam curled faintly above the bowl, disappearing into the still air. Mira pulled her chair closer to the bed. “Let’s see if we can get a little food into you, all right?” Aria watched her without answering. She understood what Mira was saying. She even wanted to tell her that she could manage on her own, that she didn’t need to be treated as though she
She couldn’t understand his silence. On the battlefield, he had been fierce and decisive, moving without hesitation when danger threatened those around him. Even when he had been injured, he had continued fighting. Now, he stood a few steps away from her bed, watching her with an expression she had never seen on him before, yet he wouldn’t say a single word. Aria’s fingers curled weakly into the bedsheet. Beside her, Mira shifted in her chair. She had been watching the two of them with a quiet, troubled expression, but when Kael’s attention moved toward the small table where the food had been left, she seemed to remember what he had asked her to do. “I’ll get something for you to eat,” she murmured to Aria. Aria barely registered the words. Her eyes remained fixed on Kael. Mira rose carefully, mindful of the space beside the bed, and moved toward the table. She lifted the cover from the tray, revealing a bowl of food and a glass of water. The faint sound of the cover being set
Kael gripped my hair, turned my face to the side — not hard, but firmly.Forcing me to see our audience. Forcing me to acknowledge what this moment really was."Let them see," he said, "because she felt the same when your dad made everyone see the show of her getting ruined."The words were like a
Roen gave a short nod, his expression never changing, as if I'd asked him to deliver breakfast rather than prepare a woman for systematic humiliation.He understood what the red collar meant, what it symbolized in the twisted hierarchy of power that governed these darker moments. It was the mark of
I sat there for long minutes, staring at the red silk like it might transform into something less terrifying if I looked at it hard enough.It didn't.If anything, it seemed to grow more ominous in the lamplight — a promise written in fabric and shadow.Finally, with shaking hands, I reached for it
The sound of their conversation was a low rumble, punctuated by the clink of goblets and the scrape of knives against plates. They ate with the casual violence of men who took what they wanted and never questioned their right to do so.Some I recognized from the attack on my home, some that had wat







