Chapter Twelve – Drawing the Line

I didn’t move. Not at first. His words were still hanging in the air between us, warm and too full of meaning, and I hated the way my chest responded before my brain had the chance to shut it down.

I straightened slowly, then met his gaze. “So you want to get to know me?”

He gave a nod, cautious. Curious. “Yes.”

“For what?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended. “To ease your conscience? To pass the time before you claim the girl they’ve already chosen for you?”

His expression shifted—tightening, hardening—but I didn’t let him speak.

“To make yourself feel better about indulging in a few stolen moments with a servant girl? A distraction you can tuck away when your crown starts to feel too heavy?”

I took a step back, breath trembling now with fury more than fear. “You don’t get to look at me like I’m some puzzle you’re desperate to solve. Not when you already know the ending to your story.”

His mouth tensed, a flicker of something pained tightening the corners of his eyes. “That’s not what this is,” he said, but even he didn’t sound convinced. The words came out low, almost like a plea, as if he were trying to convince himself more than me. “You think I’m just toying with you—but I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re in my head, in my blood. Every night you show up in my dreams and every morning, I wake up searching for you.”

“No?” I tilted my head. “Because that’s exactly what it looks like. A pretty servant girl you keep pulling into the shadows so you can pretend for a moment that your duty isn’t weighing you down. That your future isn’t already written.”

He stepped forward, a flash of frustration behind his eyes. “It’s not like that.”

I didn’t back away. I stood tall, letting the anger crackle beneath my skin like lightning on the verge of splitting open the sky.

“For you, maybe it’s not. But for me?” My voice rose slightly. “For me, it’s everything. I don’t get to flirt in forests. I don’t get to pretend my place in this world is anything more than what I was born into. And I sure as hell don’t get to be toyed with by an Alpha who’s already promised to another.”

He looked stunned. Like no one had ever spoken to him this way.

I kept going, heart hammering in my chest. “You might not mean to hurt me. But that doesn’t mean you won’t. And I won’t stand here and pretend I’m some secret you get to keep. I’ve spent my whole life invisible. But not for this. Not for you.”

His jaw flexed, but no words came.

“I may be a servant,” I said, voice lower now, steadier, “but I am not yours. I am not anyone’s. And in two days, you will mark your Luna. Nothing will change that.”

I turned then, before he could respond—before I could see that look in his eyes again, the one that made everything inside me tremble. The one that made me want things I had no right to want. His gaze had a way of peeling back everything I’d spent years building—walls, silence, armor—and I couldn’t afford to let him see that power. Not when I barely understood it myself.

He didn’t stop me.

And I didn’t stop walking.

But behind me, I knew he was still there—still watching.

And for the first time, I wondered if maybe I hadn’t just drawn a line.

Maybe I’d started a war.