Chapter 8 Chosen

SERENA POV

“My chosen mate is none other than…”

Time seemed to slow. The hall blurred, the murmurs fading into a distant echo as my heartbeat thundered in my ears.

“Serena Blackwood, daughter of Alpha Asher of the Crescent Moon Pack.”

The words hit me like a physical blow.

For a moment, I was certain I had misheard him.

Me?

The hall erupted.

Whispers exploded into gasps, shock rippling through the crowd like wildfire. I felt hundreds of gazes snap toward me all at once, sharp and invasive, stripping me bare.

Artemis surged inside me, wild and breathless. “He chose us,” she cried, disbelief and joy tangled together. “Our mate chose us. He still wants us.”

But my chest didn’t fill with relief.

It tightened.

Something was wrong.

Jayden no, the king, rose slowly from his throne. His presence alone was enough to silence the hall again. He moved with lethal grace, every step measured, every motion deliberate. When he spoke again, his voice was calm, smooth, and merciless.

“I chose the woman who once rejected me, because I was a nobody at that time” he said coolly, his eyes finding mine with terrifying precision. “The one who cast me aside for power and status.”

The words sliced deep.

A collective murmur passed through the hall.

“She is cruel,” he continued, his gaze never leaving my face. “But I suppose it would be hypocritical of me to return that cruelty now, wouldn’t it?”

A smirk tugged at his lips.

Laughter followed. Soft. Uneasy. Poisonous.

My legs felt weak. Artemis snarled, confused and furious. “This isn’t right,” she whispered. “He’s angry.”

Heat burned behind my eyes, but I refused to cry. Not here. Not in front of him.

“One would never guess she was so power-hungry,” a woman whispered loudly from the crowd. “She must be regretting rejecting him now.”

“Look at her,” another voice added. “She’s pale. She knows she’s trapped.”

Their words cut, but Jayden didn’t stop them.

He allowed it.

He wanted it.

“I have made my choice,” he said sharply, silencing the room once more. “And it is final. Serena Blackwood will be my queen. She will be my mate.”

The finality in his voice was absolute.

Artemis went still.

The bond surged violently, no longer faint or restrained. It slammed into my chest like a breaking dam, heat and longing twisting painfully together. I gasped softly, my hand instinctively flying to my heart.

He felt it too.

I knew he did.

For a fleeting second, something dark flickered in his eyes, satisfaction.

My parents stepped forward immediately, faces glowing with pride. My mother’s smile was radiant. My father’s posture straightened, relief and triumph rolling off him in waves.

They were happy.

Not for me.

For what I represented.

A queen. A crown. Power secured.

Didn’t they see the danger? Didn’t they feel the malice in the air, the tension humming like a drawn blade?

Or did they simply not care?

As long as I was chosen, my suffering was irrelevant.

“They were proud of the crown, not me. And for the first time, I realized I was utterly alone” 

The celebration resumed almost instantly. Music filled the hall once more. Laughter returned, louder this time, forced and eager. Glasses clinked. Servants rushed forward with wine and delicacies.

It was as if the moment that shattered my life had already been forgotten.

Everyone moved on.

Everyone except me.

I remained frozen where I stood, my feet rooted to the marble floor. My body felt disconnected from my mind, numb and burning all at once.

Artemis trembled.

“He still feels us and wants us,” she said softly. “The bond is there. He wouldn’t have chosen us otherwise.”

“But this isn’t love,” I whispered back. “This is punishment.”

Jayden turned away from the throne, his attention drifting lazily across the hall as nobles bowed and congratulated one another. He didn’t look at me again.

Not once.

That hurt more than his words.

If he had shouted, accused, or rejected me publicly, I could have endured it. I deserved it. But this cold indifference, this calculated distance, was far worse.

It meant he was in control.

Completely.

The celebration blurred into meaningless noise. Faces passed by, smiles plastered on, voices congratulating me on becoming queen. I answered mechanically, my body acting on instinct alone.

Inside, I was unraveling.

Three years ago, I had broken him to save his life.

Now, he had returned, not broken, not weak, but crowned, powerful, untouchable.

And he had chosen me.

Not out of love.

But to remind me that he had never truly lost.

As the night wore on, I felt his presence like a constant weight, heavy and suffocating. Even when he wasn’t looking at me, the bond pulsed, restless and demanding, tying me to him in a way I could no longer deny.

I told myself I was ready.

For anything.

For his anger. His cruelty. His vengeance.

If this was the price I had to pay for saving his life, I would endure it.

I lifted my chin, forcing my spine straight.

Let him hate me.

Let him punish me.

I would survive this too.

But deep down, beneath the resolve and stubborn strength, a single terrifying thought took root.

What if being chosen by him wasn’t my punishment.

What if it was only the beginning?

And as I finally dared to look toward the throne again, I found Jayden watching me at last.

His gaze was cold.

Calculating.

Possessive.

And in that moment, I knew with terrifying certainty.

The game had just begun.