Chapter 4

Kael’s POV

I watched the maid as she walked toward me. A bottle of wine was resting on the ground beside my chair, and I held a goblet in my hand. The task I had demanded of her was a simple one. Fortunately this servant seemed somewhat competent.

She leaned for the bottle, popped open the cork, and, with her hand trembling slightly, began pouring some wine into my goblet. Her hands trembled slightly, but her gaze was focused with intent on my glass. When she finished pouring, she lowered her head, never once looking at me.

I leaned back in my chair. Bringing the goblet to my lips, I dragged my eyes over the maid’s body, from the shaking hands she curled tightly around the neck of the wine bottle, to the pleasantly plump curves of her chest, up her long neck, to her round, pretty face.

Lightly, I scented the air, but in my current condition I struggled to properly smell her. The most I could detect was a soft lavender, coupled with a milky fragrance.

I hid my emotions behind a steely expression. Long ago, I had learned to hide what followed my episodes of madness — a brief, dangerous moment when, after a surge of intense strength and perception, all five of my senses would dim.

With practice, I had learned to hide it well. I had needed to, after a betrayal. I had survived. My betrayer had not. But he had taught me a lesson that day, and I would never allow anyone to know my secret again.

I scented again, deeper. Her scent was curious. So many I had smelled, I had killed, but never before had I scented a fragrance quite like what I was detecting from this maid.

She smelled… delectable.

Was it possible? Could she be my long sought-for mate?

Yet, if the Goddess had cursed me, how could that be possible? And just who was this woman?

She had been the first one to not spill his wine as she served him. Even though her hands trembled, she had pushed against the fear and served me without fail.

Yes. This maid had more to her than met the eye. More, I was certain she was extraordinary.

Gesturing toward a toppled goblet on the floor near me, I told her, “Drink with me.”

The maid hesitated, which earned my sharp glance. She shifted on her feet, but still made no motion toward the goblet.

“I’m sorry, Lycan King, but I am with milk,” she said, her voice proud despite the tremble in her figure. “I must refuse, for the sake of the baby.”

My shifted, souring, as darkness clouded my vision.

No one said no to me, and this maid was the first woman to ever refuse me.

Tossing aside my own glass, I jumped to my feet. The woman startled but didn’t move, not even as I stepped nearer to her, only a few inches away, closing the distance.

I lifted a hand, placed it to her cheek, ran my thumb along her upper lip.

She pressed her lips together, swallowed hard. Her eyes flashed with fear and desire, each waging war against the other.

“Do you know the consequences of refusing me?” I said, my voice low. I dragged my hand down her neck and placed my palm at the base of her throat. I could have squeezed. I could have killed her so easily.

Instead, I looked at her plump lips as her pink tongue wetted them.

A shot of lust surged through me.

“My child almost died recently,” the maid said. I felt her words under my hand as well as heard them from her perfect, kissable lips. “I would rather die myself than place him in danger again.”

Her pulse kicked hard against my fingertips. I could feel it hammering, fast and desperate, the heartbeat of something small caught in a trap.

My wolf was howling inside my skull, clawing at the cage of my chest.

I could kill her. I should, for her rejection. But I would have rather kissed her.

I did neither.

Glancing down, I spotted damp spots on her chest. With the scent of milk in the air, I knew she hadn’t lied to me.

Pulling my hand away, I turned from her.

"Go," I said, voice chilling. She lowered the bottle gently to the ground and then scurried out of the room.

I looked at the bottle, but even wine had lost its appeal to me now.

That woman…

She’s special.

Lyra’s POV

I walked as quickly as I could to my room in the servants’ quarters. As soon as I was safely within in, with the door closed behind me, my legs finally gave out and I collapsed.

I sucked in a sharp breath, having kept my breathing shallow before, not wanting to disturb the Lycan King or give him any more reason to harm me.

He’d killed others so easily. The moment his hand had pressed to my neck, I had thought the worst.

I had survived this. I had kept my wits and courage about this in serving the most terrifying man alive, and I’d succeeded. And I had done it by thinking of my son, and my will to take him away from this place. My resolve had helped me overcome this.

But… as I had been in the clutches of the Reaper, it hadn’t just been fear that clawed at my heart. I didn’t understand it, but there had been a moment, when he could have killed me that I… desired him.

The moment his rough fingertips brushed against me, my body reacted. Not with fear—with something warm and uncontrollable.

I could feel the dampness seeping through the fabric, the familiar scent of milk rising from my collar. I think he might have noticed too…

He was death on legs, dangerous even to be around. And yet, I wanted to get closer.

The ceremony was about to begin.

After today, I could take my child and slip away while they were busy seeing off the guests. To make sure he slept quietly during the ceremony without fussing, I needed to nurse him first.

The room was empty except for one other servant who was lightly cleaning. Before I could lift Nicholas from the bassinet, the other servant saw someone at the main door who startled her, and exited quickly through a side door.

“What a nice surprise, catching you in here all alone, former Luna.”

I turned, stepping in front of the bassinet to shield my child from the intruder stepping into the room. Quincy was Darius’s Beta, a vulgar man who too often made crude jokes at women’s expense. Before, he’d always kept his distance from me with his jokes and his hands, if not his eyes.

Now, alone in this room, I had a sinking suspicion that would soon change.

His gaze dropped down to my chest, where I had just begun to pull out my breast to feed my child. Quickly, I tucked myself away. But it had been too late. He had seen.

I held up my hand. “Stay back.”

An oily grin crossed his face. “No.”

He stormed toward me. I dodged, trying to lead him away from my son, but in doing so, I had put myself too near him. His arms went around my waist.

“Let me go!”

“You are no one anymore!” he growled, his hands roughly pawing at my sore breasts. “I’ve always wanted you and now I’ll have you!”

Anger gave me strength. And with my son beside me, it gave me nerve. I turned in his arms, drove my foot into his groin, desperate to get him to release me.

At the same moment, Serena stepped into the room.

“What the hells is going on in here?!” she screeched. My baby started crying at the noise.

Shocked, Quincy released me. I stumbled out of his grasp, falling down to the floor.

After a moment’s recovery, as I struggled back to my feet, Quincy pointed one of his sausage fingers at me. “She tried to seduce me!”

“I did not!”

Quincy persisted. “She bared her breasts to me. She tried to offer me her body in exchange for my loyalty. She wanted me to betray my Alpha! I would never!”

“Those are lies,” I said to him, and to Serena. “He is lying.”

Serena looked at me in smug satisfaction and a chill chased up my spine.

She didn’t care if it was the truth. This was her perfect opportunity to get rid of me.

“Arrest her,” Serena said to Quincy. He grabbed my arm. “We will take her to Darius and demand her execution.”