Chapter 006

MAGNUS’ POV

"Well, well, Sunflower," I said slowly, staring at her intensely. "Surprise, surprise. Things just got a lot more interesting.”

My voice stayed low and steady. The words hung between us.

Keira’s eyes widened, confusion flashing across her face like a storm cloud rolling in fast. She had expected anger. I could see it in the way her shoulders tensed and her fingers curled at her sides. Instead I stood there smiling, letting the truth settle. I had known from the moment I first caught her scent in that crowded hall weeks ago. That pull, that wild sweetness that cut through every other smell, had dragged me straight to her.

My doubts had flickered when her adopted sister, Lyra fluttered around pretending to be the gentle one, but I had watched how Zeke gripped her sister’s arm too tight and how Keira’s eyes hid sharp pain beneath the surface. Lyra wore victimhood like armor while sharpening knives underneath. I had wanted this marriage with Keira from the start. Thank the Moon Goddess it worked out exactly that way.

She tilted her head, studying me like I might sprout fangs any second. The corner of my mouth twitched higher. For one perfect heartbeat everything felt right.

Then the twitch turned real. A sharp spasm rolled through my chest. I locked my jaw, fighting the familiar burn climbing my throat. Not now, and certainly not right here in front of her.

I turned my head slightly and caught the housekeeper’s eye, Mrs. Stormborn. “See Lady Keira to her rooms,” I ordered, my voice dropping into the cold command they all knew. “Make sure she has everything she needs.”

Keira’s brows drew together. The smile I had given her seconds ago made my sudden ice look like a slap. Good. Let her wonder. I couldn’t risk her seeing what came next.

I spun on my heel and strode down the wide corridor, boots ringing against marble. Each step sent fresh fire through my lungs. I kept my back straight, shoulders squared, the way a king should. The study door waited at the far end. Just a little farther.

My vision blurred at the edges. A wet cough tore out of me before I could stop it. I pressed my fist to my mouth, tasting copper. Another cough ripped free, harder this time. Blood sprayed across the white floor in thick, dark arcs. My knees buckled. The marble rushed up and slammed into my shoulder as I collapsed, more blood pouring between my fingers with every hacking breath. It pooled warm and sticky under my cheek, staining the perfect stone.

Heavy footsteps pounded toward me.

“Magnus!” Torin’s voice cracked with the same fear it always carried during these episodes. He dropped beside me, strong hands gripping my arms. “Damn it, not today. Hold on.”

I tried to speak but another cough stole the words. Blood kept coming, too much, too fast. Torin’s face swam above me, pale and tight. He had seen this before, yet the panic never left his eyes completely.

“Physician!” he bellowed down the hall. “Get Dr. Harlan here now!”

Servants scattered. Torin hauled me up, half carrying, half dragging me toward my private chambers. My boots left red streaks behind us. Every jolt sent fresh pain exploding through my ribs, but I clamped down on the groans. Weakness was a luxury I could not afford, even now.

We reached my room just as old Dr. Harlan burst in, his medical bag already open. Torin lowered me onto the wide bed. Servants closed the heavy doors behind us, sealing the room from prying eyes. Harlan moved with the speed of decades spent patching me together. He tipped a bitter tonic against my lips. I swallowed it down, grimacing at the taste. Warmth spread through my chest, slowing the coughs to ragged wheezes.

Harlan pressed a cloth to my mouth, wiping away fresh blood. His wrinkled face stayed calm, but I caught the tightness around his eyes. “You’re getting worse, Your Majesty,” he said quietly. “The episodes are getting stronger and closer together. You know what that means.”

“I know,” I rasped, pushing myself up against the pillows. The room still spun, but the tonic was doing its work.

“Then why did you bother with the wedding? Harlan asked, his voice low with the familiarity of someone who had scolded me since I was a boy. “You should not have gone through with the marriage. The strain alone—”

“I need her, Dr. Harlan,” I cut in. My voice came out steadier than I felt. “You know this. You know why I went ahead with this act. You know I didn’t get married because I needed a wife. You know I got married because I needed the white wolf.”

Torin shifted near the window, his arms crossed, listening. Harlan paused, checking my pulse.

I kept going. “The old scrolls were clear. The white wolf’s blood carries the ancient healing. You know the prophecy more than I do. You know that’s the only way I can get cured. So yeah pardon me if I got married to her, you and I know that marriage was the only way to have easy access into Iron Wood Pack without tipping the rest of the pack who still think I’m just the Lycan King’s representative.”

There was silence for a moment. Then I let out a sharp and bitter laugh. It hurt. “The Moon Goddess finally gave me the key. Marrying the true Alpha of Iron Wood is the best way to find the White Wolf. You’ve always told me to be smart, this is me being smart.”

Harlan met my gaze, steady and unflinching. “And you’re certain the girl can help you get closer to the White Wolf?”

“Positive.” I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand. “I have never been more certain of anything in my life.”

Torin stepped closer, his voice rough. “Are you sure about her, Magnus? About all of this?”

I nodded slowly, meeting his eyes. “Never been so sure, Torin.”

He said nothing after that. What was there to say? We had walked this path together too long. Harlan packed his bag, gave final instructions about rest and another dose before dawn, then slipped out. Torin lingered a moment longer, then followed, closing the door softly behind him.

Silence pressed in. My body still trembled with leftover spasms, but the worst had passed. I swung my legs over the side of the bed and stood. The room tilted. I gripped the bedpost until it righted itself. I needed to see her. I needed to know she was settled, even if she hated me right now.

I moved through the quiet halls, one hand trailing the wall for support. Servants bowed and vanished when they saw me coming. At the door to Keira’s new chambers I stopped and listened. Soft voices drifted out, maids helping her unpack, offering tea, arranging things. She was being looked after. Good.

I pushed the door open and stepped inside. The maids curtsied quickly and hurried out, leaving us alone. Keira stood near the tall windows, back straight, moonlight catching in her hair. She turned at the sound of my boots. Those sharp eyes locked on mine, full of questions and sparks of anger.

I stayed in the doorway, shoulders squared despite the fresh ache in my chest. “Are you happy with the room?” I asked, my voice low but clear.

She said nothing. Just stared, lips pressed tight, like a storm building behind her teeth. I braced myself, ready for the words to fly, ready for every accusation she wanted to throw. Part of me almost welcomed it. Anything to cut through the heavy silence stretching between us now.