The sunlight filtering through the heavy velvet curtains was a gentle caress on my skin, a stark contrast to the fire that had consumed me just hours before. I stretched, feeling the pleasant ache in muscles I didn't know I had, a tangible reminder of the night I thought I'd only ever dream of. There was a weight beside me, warm and solid, and I turned my head to find Alaric watching me, his eyes filled with something I couldn't quite name. It was a mixture of adoration, relief, and a possessiveness that made my heart flutter."Good morning," he murmured, his voice rough with sleep and…something else. Satisfaction? It felt too bold to assume, but I couldn't deny the heat that bloomed in my chest at the thought."Morning," I replied, my voice a breathy whisper. I felt shy, vulnerable, like a flower unfolding in the sun for the very first time.He reached out, his fingers tracing the curve of my cheek. "How are you feeling?""Sore," I admitted, a blush creeping up my neck. "But…good."H
“Do you have the slightest idea of what it will mean once I take you?” He whispers in my ear and a hot wave of lust rolls through me. I nod, letting him know I'm aware of what it'd mean.“Are you sure, baby?” Alaric's hand travels down to my pelvis and then back to my neck. “Because once I get to taste you and take you just the way I want, you'll be mine forever. No going back, no changing your mind. Every inch of you will be mine. Do you understand, dearest darling?” My goodness, I'm flooding with slick. I would do anything to keep this side of him.His fingers suddenly circle my slick wet entrance before I get to answer him, he pushes a digit inside me and my lips part in a breathless moan.“Give me your words, do you understand?” He demanded, his finger starting to abuse my hole.“Yes.” I replied, my shaky breath making it sound less audible.“Hmm, so who do you belong to, pretty little prince?” Alaric asks, pumping his finger in and out of me. I clench around him, getting used to
(Kael's POV)The chill of the night air clung to my skin as Alaric hauled me from the waterfall’s embrace. My teeth chattered, a frantic rhythm against the silence that had stretched taut between us since his torrent of apologies. He didn’t say another word as he lifted me, cradling me against his chest like I was something precious, something fragile.I wanted to protest, to wriggle free and vanish back into the woods, but his grip was firm, possessive. Each step he took towards the palace sent a fresh wave of despair crashing over me. He should be with Amora. He should be celebrating their union, not carrying me, dripping and miserable, back to… to what?He didn't stop until we were inside his chambers. My chambers. The ones I cleaned and arranged.He set me gently on my feet, then turned to the door and locked it, the sound echoing in the sudden, oppressive silence. "Amora is not here," he said, his voice low and rough. "I arranged for her own suite, away from mine."He gestured ar
(Kael's POV)I smiled through the agony as the man who marked my soul pledged forever to someone else. The sun beat down on the gathered crowd, reflecting off the golden carriage, the silken banners, and the polished armor of the royal guard. It was a glorious day—for everyone but me.My hands trembled as I held the silver tray laden with goblets of chilled wine, offering it to a passing noble. He took one without a glance, his eyes fixed on the approaching royal chariot, the air thick with anticipation. I forced myself to meet his gaze, to offer a polite nod, but the effort felt monumental. Every movement was an act of defiance against the crushing weight in my chest.The cheers erupted as the chariot finally rolled to a stop. Prince Alaric emerged first, every inch the regal Alpha, his jaw firm, his eyes holding a flicker of something unreadable. He offered a hand to Princess Amora, and she stepped out, a vision in white and gold, her Omega scent light and sweet on the air. A perfec
Alaric stared at the back of Kael's head, the delicate curve of his neck visible just above the crisp white collar of his servant uniform. He knew he shouldn't be, not after the betrothal announcement, not after the damage he'd inflicted… Not after he promised it won't happen again. Yet, his wolf howled a constant, agonizing lament, a symphony of loss and regret that echoed in his very bones.He found himself inexplicably drawn to Kael's discarded tunic after the day's work, the faint, lingering scent of lavender and something intrinsically Kael clinging to the fabric. It was a cruel torture, a ghost of what could have been. He knew smelling the tunic was wrong, disrespectful, bordering on obsessive. But the craving, the desperate need to inhale that scent, was a force he couldn't entirely control.Late evening, after he'd dismissed Kael for the day, driven to the edge of sanity, Alaric summoned Kael to his private study under the guise of needing assistance with some documents. Kael
The scent clung to him, a phantom limb of longing. Even after days of Kael’s meticulous avoidance, a faint trace of his unique omega musk lingered on the fabric of the Prince's chambers, permeating the air where Kael had once moved freely. Alaric found himself drawn to it, sniffing at a discarded tunic, the corner of a cushion, his wolf clawing at the cage of his self-imposed denial. He knew it was pathetic, undignified for a future king, but the yearning was a physical ache, a constant reminder of the bond he tried so desperately to deny.The betrothal to Princess Amora felt like a gilded cage, each polite smile and carefully chosen word a fresh layer of suffocating guilt. He saw the flicker of hurt in Kael's eyes during the announcement, the way he subtly straightened his shoulders, a fragile shield against the pain. That small, almost imperceptible action was enough to shatter Alaric's resolve, leaving him adrift in a sea of regret.His actions became increasingly erratic, driven b
The scent of lilies, Princess Amora’s signature perfume, faded from the palace, yet its ghost seemed to cling to the very air Kael breathed. He scrubbed the Prince’s chambers with a vigor that bordered on violence, the coarse cloth a poor substitute for the longing that clawed at his insides. He was glad she was gone, but Amora's absence was a double-edged sword. It brought him no solace, only a sharper awareness of his own confinement.He missed Aaron. The memory of Aaron's genuine admiration, his easy laughter, his unwavering acceptance, was a flickering candle in the dark labyrinth of palace life. He found himself replaying their conversations, clinging to the warmth of Aaron's gaze.Kael knew Alaric was watching him. He could feel the Prince's eyes on him during meals, in the corridors, even when he was simply polishing silverware. The Prince's presence was a suffocating weight, a constant reminder of the bond they shared, a bond Alaric continued to deny.One afternoon, Kael was m
Kael moved through the palace corridors like a ghost, his steps light, almost silent. He was a master of invisibility, a skill honed over years of trying to disappear, to become nothing more than background noise in the opulent chaos of the royal court. Today, however, his ghostly presence felt heavier, more burdened than usual. He had returned to his duties, to serve Alaric, but the ease, the almost comfortable rhythm they had found before his heat, was gone. Replaced by a thick wall of formality, a polite distance that chilled him to the bone.He arranged the prince's desk, straightening documents that were already perfectly aligned, polishing the silver inkwell until it gleamed under the morning light. Every movement was precise, controlled, a deliberate effort to keep his hands from shaking, his mind from wandering back to the agony of his heat, to the memory of Alaric's rejection, to the echo of another consort's pleasure.The arrival of Princess Amora had only amplified his torm
I'm convinced the sun paints the sky in shades of pain before it gives way to a new day. Because that's how I feel; an old sun, a faded light, trying to shine when all I want to do is set. I'm tired. Tired of hiding, tired of longing, tired of being the unwanted.If stars really do grant wishes I wouldn't be in this much pain… oh how much I've wished upon stars, how much I've prayed to the moon goddess but all I get is silent mockery and the next day turns out worse than the previous.I blinked, trying to focus on the unfamiliar silk of the sheets beneath me. My head throbbed, a dull ache that mirrored the hollowness in my chest. I was in a room that wasn’t mine, a room far grander than anything I deserved. Sunlight streamed through the tall windows, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air, a mocking display of freedom I couldn't grasp.Aaron.He was beside me, sleeping peacefully, his golden hair tousled against the pillow… golden hair— his hair was darker than last time I saw him