7-

Aradia's POV

The door clicked shut behind the servant, and the silence that followed felt heavier than the blood moon itself. I stood motionless in the center of the room, afraid that if I moved too quickly, the illusion would shatter.

This couldn’t be real. Silk against my skin, the faint scent of lavender still clinging to my hair, the massive bed that looked like it could swallow me whole. A slave didn’t sleep in places like this. Slaves slept on floors, in corners, wherever their masters allowed.

I crossed to the window on trembling legs and pushed the heavy curtain aside. The gardens below stretched out like something from a dream—silver paths winding between hedges shaped like wolves and crescent moons, fountains bubbling softly under torchlight.

Beyond the palace walls, the capital glittered with thousands of lights. So many people. So much life. And here I was, dressed like a lady, breathing air that smelled of polished wood and fresh flowers instead of smoke and fear.

My stomach twisted. *Emma.* Had the healer kept his word? Was she already seeing shapes and colors, or was she still waiting in darkness while I stood in a palace that wasn’t mine?

The gold I’d earned—fifty pieces, an unimaginable fortune—had to be with him by now. That thought was the only thing keeping my knees from buckling.

A soft knock made me jump.

“Enter,” I called, my voice cracking.

Two servants carried in trays laden with food. Roasted chicken glistening with herbs, bowls of steaming vegetables, fresh bread, and a pitcher of what smelled like spiced wine. They set everything on a low table near the window without a word, though their eyes flicked over me with open curiosity. One of them, a young woman with braided hair, hesitated.

“The alpha says you are to eat well, my lady. Ring if you need more.”

*My lady.* Again. I managed a nod, and they left.

I ate slowly this time, savoring each bite. The chicken melted on my tongue. The wine warmed my chest and loosened some of the knots in my shoulders. Still, every sound outside the door made me tense. Footsteps in the hallway. Distant laughter. The occasional howl carried on the night wind—werewolves in the city, shifting under the lingering power of the blood moon.

When I couldn’t eat another bite, I explored the room. A private bathing chamber adjoined it, with a deep tub already filled with hot water. Rose petals floated on the surface.

I sank into it with a sigh that bordered on a sob. The heat eased the ache in my muscles from the long ride, but it did nothing for the storm in my mind.

What did Alpha Xior want from me?

He hadn’t touched me the way I expected. He’d simply held me, breathed me in, and slept like a man who’d been drowning and finally found air. I remembered the way his arm had curled around my waist, possessive but gentle. The steady beat of his heart against my back. The way he’d whispered my name in his sleep.

*Aradia.*

No one had said my name like that in years.

I dressed in a simple nightgown the servants had left—soft white linen trimmed with lace—and braided my damp hair. Sleep felt impossible, but I climbed into the enormous bed anyway, pulling the furs up to my chin. The mattress dipped under my weight like a cloud. I stared at the canopy above me, tracing the embroidered silver stars with my eyes.

Hours passed. Or maybe minutes. Time blurred in the quiet luxury.

Another knock. Firmer this time.

I sat up, heart racing. “Come in.”

The door opened, and Lyra stepped inside. Xior’s sister. She wore a deep green robe embroidered with silver thread, her dark hair loose over one shoulder. In the warm lantern light, she looked even more beautiful than she had in the courtyard—elegant, confident, and unmistakably royal.

“I hope I’m not disturbing you,” she said, closing the door softly behind her. Her voice was warm, but her eyes held that same assessing look from earlier. “I couldn’t sleep. Thought you might feel the same.”

I slid out of bed and bowed awkwardly. “My lady. I—I don’t know what to say. This room… everything…”

Lyra waved a hand, dismissing the formality. She crossed to the table and poured herself a small cup of the remaining wine. “Please, sit. Call me Lyra. Titles get exhausting after a while.” She studied me over the rim of her cup. “So. My brother bought you for fifty gold at the blood moon market. That’s… unprecedented.”

Heat flooded my face. I sat on the edge of the bed, twisting my hands in my lap. “I chose it. Sold myself. My sister needed a healer.”

Lyra’s expression softened. She sat beside me, close enough that I caught the faint scent of pine and moonlight that seemed to cling to all of them. “That explains the desperation I smelled on you earlier. But it doesn’t explain why Xior paid more than most men earn in a lifetime for one human girl. Or why he gave you this room.”

I swallowed. “He hasn’t… explained much.”

“That’s Xior for you.” She smiled faintly, but there was worry in it. “He carries the weight of the entire pack on his shoulders. Has since he was a child. You’ve heard the stories, I’m sure.”

I nodded. The boy king. The night his parents were slaughtered. The sister he’d protected.

“He hasn’t slept properly since then,” Lyra continued quietly. “Nightmares. Exhaustion that no healer could touch. Kade told me what happened last night. That you… helped him rest.”

My breath caught. “I didn’t do anything. He just held me and fell asleep.”

Lyra watched me for a long moment. “That’s more than anyone else has managed in seventeen years. The priestess will want to see you tomorrow. She’s already been summoned.”

The priestess. The words sent a shiver down my spine. I’d heard of her—the Moon Goddess’s voice on earth, reader of fates and curses. The idea of standing before her made my palms sweat.

“I’m just a human,” I whispered. “A slave. What could I possibly be to him?”

Lyra reached out and squeezed my hand. Her touch was surprisingly gentle. “That’s what we’re all wondering. But I saw the way he looked at you when we arrived. Protective. Almost… peaceful. He doesn’t do peaceful, Aradia.”

A knock interrupted us. The door opened before either of us could answer, and Xior filled the doorway.

He’d changed into a black tunic that stretched across his broad chest, sleeves rolled up to reveal corded forearms marked with old scars. His dark eyes found me immediately, and something in my chest tightened. Not fear exactly. Something warmer. More dangerous.

“Lyra,” he said, voice low. “You should be resting.”

His sister stood, smirking. “So should you, brother. But I see you’re checking on your new… guest.” She gave me a quick, encouraging smile before slipping past him. “Goodnight, Aradia. Try to sleep.”

The door closed, leaving us alone.

Xior didn’t move at first. He simply stood there, studying me in the lamplight. His gaze traced the braid over my shoulder, the thin nightgown, the way my hands gripped the edge of the bed. Heat rose in my cheeks.

“Come here,” he said finally.

I obeyed without thinking, crossing the room on bare feet. When I stopped in front of him, he towered over me, but he didn’t seem threatening. Just… tired. And something else I couldn’t name.

He lifted a hand slowly, as if giving me time to flinch away. His fingers brushed a loose strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. The touch was feather-light, but it sent sparks racing across my skin.

“You’re afraid,” he murmured. “I can smell it.”

“Not of you,” I lied softly. “Not exactly.”

His lips twitched—the ghost of that almost-smile from the tent. “Good. Because I have no intention of hurting you, Aradia. Not now. Not ever.”

The words wrapped around me like the furs on the bed. I wanted to believe them. Desperately.

“Why am I here?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. “In this room. In silk. Why did you buy me for so much?”

He stepped closer until I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes. His scent—wild forest and smoke and something uniquely him—filled my lungs. “Because when I saw you on that platform, something in me recognized you. My wolf recognized you. And last night… you gave me peace I haven’t known since I was a boy.”

My heart hammered. “I don’t understand how.”

“Neither do I. That’s why we’re seeing the priestess tomorrow.” His hand lingered near my cheek. “But tonight, I need to sleep again. Will you let me hold you?”

The request was so simple, so raw, that it stole my breath. No demands. No force. Just a quiet need that mirrored the exhaustion I’d seen in his eyes since the clearing.

I nodded.

He led me to the bed without another word. We climbed in together, and he pulled me against his chest just like the night before. His arm locked around my waist. His face pressed into my hair. I felt the tension drain from his massive body as he inhaled deeply.

“Aradia,” he breathed, already drifting.

I closed my eyes, listening to his heartbeat slow. The palace was silent around us. No blood moon tonight, just ordinary starlight filtering through the windows. For the first time since signing those papers, the weight in my chest felt a little lighter.

Whatever magic or curse or fate bound me to this strange, scarred alpha, I was in it now. No turning back. Emma was safe—or would be. And I…

I was starting to wonder if I’d been sold to something far more complicated than slavery.

His breathing deepened into true sleep. No nightmares. No tossing. Just solid, healing rest.

I whispered into the darkness, so quiet it was barely a thought.

“Please let this be worth it.”

And for the second night in a row, Alpha Xior slept like the weight of the world had finally lifted from his shoulders.