Ch 004: The Consorts

[ Aysel ]

The guards lead me through the packhouse, down endless halls and sweeping turns. Everything here is wide, grand, and intentionally built to remind you how small you are.

We stop before a door where two female servants wait. The moment they see me, they bow low. I freeze, unsure what to do with that kind of respect. 

Nevertheless, I follow them inside what I’m told is my chamber.

The room is… breathtaking.

It’s large and bright. A wide window opens toward the gardens, moonlight spilling over polished floors and silk-draped furniture. It looks nothing like the cramped storage room that passed for my bedroom back in Lumiville. For a fleeting second, I imagine sitting by the window with a book, pretending this is my life.

The thought dies quickly.

I still have to survive tonight.

The servants work quietly and efficiently. I’m bathed, dried and brushed. My hair is smoothed into long, flowing waves that spill down my back. I’m dressed in a simple white gown: a soft fabric with high slits at the sides, and a neckline that reveals just enough to make my skin feel exposed.

One servant reaches for a vial of scented oil, but is stopped instantly by the other girl who grabs her wrist, eyes wide with alarm.

“No perfume,” she says sharply. “The Lycan King gave strict orders. Not even scented powder.”

The vial is set aside at once.

My chest tightens.

I remember the way he smelled me during the Selection. The way his voice dipped when he said my scent was different.

Is that why he asked that my perfume be applied on my skin? Because he wants to decipher my natural scent?

“Give me a moment.” I say softly as they move to lead me out.

They pause and let me cross the room to my small embroidered purse, which is the only thing I was allowed to bring from Lumiville. My fingers tremble as I dig out my medication. I swallow a pill dry and tuck the bottle away.

There. One more night without my heart failing me.

The servants escort me through the halls, one ahead and one behind. I do my best to avoid the stares of other servants and maids in the hallways. Some of them press together in whispers as I walk past. 

I keep my head down, but I hear them anyway.

“Is that her? The King’s new consort?”

“How did she catch his attention?”

“Consort Haelyn won’t like this.”

My fingers lace together over my stomach as my steps slow.

We reach the north wing.

The guards stationed there step aside without question. Massive doors open, and the air changes the moment I cross the threshold.

This isn’t just a chamber. It’s a private world.

The room is circular, open, with adjoining spaces visible beyond arched entrances, consisting of a study, a bathing room, and shadows of other private quarters. At the center lies a pool, steam curling over blue water.

And inside it, is the Lycan King.

King Raegon reclines against the edge of the pool, powerful arms stretched wide, his body relaxed in a way that still radiates control. Water beads over broad shoulders, carved chest, thick muscles that look dangerous even at rest.

Three women surround him.

They move with familiarity and confidence, hands brushing his arms, shoulders and chest. One feeds him fruit. Another tilts a cup of wine to his lips. The third trails her fingers over his skin, her mouth brushing where her hand has just been.

He allows it all.

My breath stalls. I’ve never seen anything so shamelessly hot and powerful in my entire life.

The servants bow. “My King.”

Then they retreat, leaving me alone under the weight of his presence.

It’s like the Selection all over again: standing exposed beneath judging eyes. His gaze is unreadable, dark and unwavering. The women, however, make no effort to hide their assessment. Their looks are judgemental and cold. 

All except one.

The woman nearest him simply arches a brow, studying me with open curiosity.

“Leave us.” Raegon says.

The women obey instantly, rising from the pool. Wet fabric clings to their bodies as they step out, curves outlined, skin gleaming. They spare me one last look, resentment etched clearly on their faces, as they pass.

All except the woman who had been touching him. She still hangs around him. 

I don't need anyone to tell me that this is her. Consort Haelyn. King Raegon’s favorite. 

“What do you think of her?” King Raegon asks, turning his head slightly toward her. His voice is softer than the cold command I heard in the Selection hall, but no less dangerous.

“Hmmm…” Haelyn rests her head against his chest, her fingers still idly tracing the hard planes of his skin as she studies me with open scrutiny.

I study her too.

She is devastatingly beautiful. Long black hair cascades down her back like silk, framing sharp blue eyes filled with calculated mischief. Every feature of her face is striking and perfected. And with the air of unshaky confidence she possesses… I understand instantly why she holds his favor.

“Not bad,” she finally says, her gaze never leaving me. “Though she looks underfed. Fragile. Pale.” Her lips curl slightly. “Dressed in finery, yet she still looks like a girl who’s known hunger.”

She lifts her head and turns to him. “I expected more, my king, after hearing you finally chose someone at the Selection.”

He doesn’t respond. Just curves his mouth into a faint, unreadable smile.

“Thank you for your honesty, Haelyn,” he says calmly. “You may leave us.”

Displeasure flashes across her face before she masks it. She rises from the pool with fluid grace, water sliding down her body as she bows her head and steps out.

But as she passes me, she stops.

Her voice drops low, laced with chills and warning, meant only for my ears.

“In case no one has explained things to you,” she murmurs, “I will.” Her eyes burn into mine. “I despise girls like you. Weak ones who wander into places they don’t belong and think beauty will protect them.”

Her lips curve into a cruel smirk. “Remember this, wolfless girl… I bite. And I never equally share what’s mine.”

Then she’s gone.

The doors shut behind her, and only then do I realize how tightly I’d been holding my breath.

If I’m honest, I’d give anything… anything… to be back in Lumiville. Back to hunger, to cruelty, and survival. Because this place? This feels like a single wrong move could cost me my life.

Without a word, King Raegon steps out of the pool. Water trails down his body, gliding over hard muscle and defined lines, dripping onto the stone floor.

When he straightens fully, the sight hits me all at once.

He’s naked. Completely naked.

A sharp gasp escapes me before I can stop it, and I immediately drop my gaze, heat rushing to my cheeks in embarrassment. My heart stumbles violently in my chest.

I freeze as his footsteps approach me slowly. He stops right in front of me.

Just like he did at the Selection, his fingers rise to my chin, gently lifting my face until my eyes are forced to meet his. I bite the inside of my lip to keep it from trembling, doing everything in my power to keep my gaze from drifting lower.

“Aysel…” he calls.

The sound of my name on his lips steals the air from my lungs. It feels unfamiliar, yet it's the first time I’ve ever heard it spoken with such weight, such possession. As though it belongs to him.

A faint frown crosses his face.

“Have we met before?”

I shake my head quickly, limited by the fingers still holding my chin. “N-no, my king.”

His dark stare sharpens, searching deep in my eyes as though the answer he wants isn’t in my words, but buried deep within my soul.

“Hm.”

He leans in, his nose brushing my neck as he inhales, pressing against me so that his hardness nudges my stomach.

The contact sends a jolt of panic through me, and to my horror, something else entirely:

My thighs clench together instinctively.

“Your scent…” he murmurs, voice low and rough. “I don’t know how to explain it. There’s something… different about it.”

I swallow hard, my throat tight, unable to form a response. He finally pulls back, but his body remains close, his presence overwhelming. His eyes stay locked on mine as his thumb lifts, brushing slowly over my lower lip.

“You look terrified, little one,” he growls softly. “Why?” His gaze sharpens. “Are you afraid of me?”

My body betrays me, trembling despite every effort to stay still. I drop my eyes. “I-I have known no man before, my king.”

His body goes rigid. “You’re a virgin?”

I nod.

“Look at me.” At his command, I lift my eyes at once.

His gaze is colder now. More dangerous. His thumb slides from my cheek, lingering just long enough to make my skin burn.

“How then, will you please me, little one? Do you even know how to serve a king?” he asks quietly. The weight of his gaze makes my knees go weak. “In case you don’t know, I despise businesses that do not satisfy me.”

I swallow hard, heart thudding. “I-I… I can learn, my king.”

He smirks. “Learn?” Then, his voice drops to a low, lethal growl. “If you fail, little one… I might hand you to my soldiers. They’ll make good use of inexperienced girls like you. I have no appetite for amateurs in my harem.”

I swallow, bile rising. The idea makes me shiver. 

 Gods… not the guard and soldiers. Not this again…

I’m already here, so the best I can do is survive. By doing whatever I can. At least, until some miracle pops out of nowhere and saves my ass.

Slowly, hands shaking, I tug at the zipper. The gown slips from my shoulders, falling to the floor. My bra and panties cling to me like a frail shield and my skin burns under his gaze, small and exposed.

He steps back, never breaking eye contact. The chair at the side of the pool invites him, powerful thighs parted as he sits himself on it. 

That’s when my eyes finally land on the thick rod dangling firmly between his legs. I nearly collapse from the sight.

That length and girth…. Oh gods…

“Alright then,” he says finally, eyes still watching me intently. “Convince me you are worth keeping, little one.”