Turn Around

Maya's POV 

Green.

Bright green eyes were the first thing I saw when my eyelids finally fluttered open.

The second awareness returned, panic followed right behind it.

My hand flew straight to my throat while a sharp gasp scraped against my bruised windpipe. Instantly, the memory slammed back into me with brutal clarity. The stone wall digging into my spine. Leather-gloved fingers crushing my neck. The terrifying pressure stealing the air from my lungs.

“Whoa, easy there.”

The voice was smooth, almost amused, and it only made me jerk back harder against the pillows.

The man leaning over my bed straightened immediately, though the lazy smirk on his face never disappeared.

Thick dark hair fell loosely across his forehead, and unlike everyone else I had encountered in this castle, he looked relaxed. Comfortable. Almost charming.

That alone made me distrust him instantly.

“I usually prefer a warmer reaction after rescuing a lady,” he continued casually, “but I’ll settle for the gasp.”

As I pushed myself upright onto my elbows, pain rippled through my chest hard enough to make me wince.

My heartbeat felt uneven beneath my ribs while I forced myself to properly examine the room around me.

I was back inside the massive bedroom.

The silver trolleys still lay overturned across the rugs, though someone had at least bothered to clean away most of the shattered glass.

“Who are you?” I demanded, though my voice came out rough and broken like gravel scraping together.

The stranger’s smirk widened slightly, as though he found my suspicion entertaining instead of offensive.

“Cassian Alaric,” he replied with a small theatrical bow. 

Then, without waiting for permission, he dragged a heavy wooden chair across the floor and turned it backward before straddling it casually.

“And you,” he continued while pointing toward me dramatically, “are the infamous human who somehow convinced my terrifying older brother to cancel a public execution.”

His green eyes swept over me slowly before amusement flickered across his face again.

“I’ll admit, though, I expected someone slightly sturdier.”

I ignored that completely.

“You brought me here?” I asked instead, carefully rubbing at my neck before immediately regretting it. My skin felt swollen, hot, and unbearably tender beneath my fingertips.

“Found you unconscious on the floor,” he answered with a careless shrug. “Honestly, you should probably consider that little chokehold a welcome gift from Seraphina. Hospitality isn’t exactly her strongest trait.”

At the mention of her name, cold anger twisted through me.

“The enforcer,” I muttered bitterly while memories of her icy eyes resurfaced.

“Chief Enforcer,” Cassian corrected smoothly.

Leaning forward, he rested his arms across the back of the chair while studying me more carefully.

“And I’d avoid saying that title too casually,” he added. “Seraphina only answers to the King. Everyone else answers to her.”

As he spoke, something unsettling crept beneath his light tone then.

“She acts as judge, jury, and executioner around here.” His gaze flickered briefly toward the door. “Truthfully, you’re lucky Anastasia likes you. Otherwise your head would already be decorating the courtyard.”

Cassian kept talking after that, but most of it barely registered.

I didn’t care about their hierarchy.

I didn’t care about Seraphina’s position inside this castle.

I was a pediatrician, and a little girl’s life was hanging in the balance while these people obsessed rubbish.

“I don’t have time for this,” I sighed while swinging my legs over the edge of the mattress despite the ache spreading through my body.

The room tilted the second my feet touched the floor, but I forced myself to stay upright.

“I need to speak with the Head Healer,” I continued firmly. “I need Anastasia’s medical history, diagnostic reports, and a full list of whatever compounds they’ve been forcing into her system.”

For the first time since waking up, Cassian stopped smiling entirely.

“The Head Healer?” he repeated, leaning back slowly in the chair like he genuinely couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

Then he let out a short laugh beneath his breath.

“You really think the Lycan elders are going to hand sensitive medical records to a human prisoner?”

“If you want anything in this castle,” he continued more quietly, “you go through the man who owns you.”

I knew who he was talking about and fear hit me so suddenly it almost made me nauseous.

“Valen,” I whispered before I could stop myself.

“The King,” he corrected automatically, though this time his voice lacked most of its earlier teasing.

He rose from the chair after that and glanced over my torn clothes and mud-stained sleeves with an unreadable expression.

“Go back to bed, sweetheart.”

That was the last real conversation I had for three days.

Nobody came.

I never saw Anastasia again. I never saw the King. The castle simply swallowed me whole and left me trapped inside those massive chambers like I no longer existed.

At first, I appreciated the silence.

By the second day, it became unbearable.

Every wasted hour felt like another step closer to disaster. I couldn’t run tests. I couldn't prepare proper treatment.

I couldn’t even argue with the healers poisoning Anastasia because nobody would speak to me long enough to let me try.

Meanwhile, my own thoughts were tearing me apart.

Part of me remained trapped in doctor mode, furious and restless while imagining Anastasia’s condition worsening by the hour. The other half of me kept drifting helplessly back toward Leo.

My son was still out there somewhere believing his mother had disappeared without a goodbye.

That thought hollowed me out from the inside.

By the third night, the restlessness became impossible to tolerate any longer.

I couldn’t stay trapped in this room waiting to die while Anastasia’s nervous system deteriorated day after day. Someone needed to listen to me, and unfortunately the only person with enough authority to help was Valen Alaric.

So I forced myself to get dressed.

The wardrobe contained expensive clothing, but none of it had been selected with care. Every gown hanging there felt oversized and impersonal, like the staff simply threw random fabric at me because I wasn’t important enough to bother fitting properly.

Eventually, I pulled out a dark velvet dress.

It hung loosely from my frame and made me look smaller than I already was. But I lacked the energy to care.

I didn’t bother styling my hair either. Dark strands spilled messily around my shoulders while the bruised handprint around my throat remained painfully visible beneath them.

I looked exhausted. And even the guards outside the room noticed it.

“I need to see the King,” I said firmly, already bracing myself for resistance.

To my surprise, neither guard argued.

The two massive wolves exchanged a glance before silently falling into step beside me, escorting me through the endless castle corridors without explanation.

Eventually we stopped in front of enormous iron-reinforced doors.

Realizing this is the King’s chambers, my pulse quickened.

The guard on the right shoved the doors open without bothering to knock.

“The human is here, Your Majesty.”

I took one steadying breath before stepping inside.

I had prepared myself for hostility.

For threats.

For another terrifying confrontation with the Lycan King.

What I had not prepared myself for was this.

The words died instantly in my throat the moment I entered the room.

Warmth filled the space instead of coldness. Firelight flickered against dark stone walls while the scent of burning wood, liquor, and masculine musk hung heavily in the air.

But none of that was what stunned me.

Valen sat at the edge of his enormous bed looking completely unbothered while a blonde woman knelt between his spread thighs.

Her mouth was stretched open wide around him, swallowing him down to the root as her throat convulsed around his thick, slick length. She was eagerly sucking the pre-cum straight from the head of his manhood, her cheeks hollowing out as she drank him in with messy, loud slurps that coated his pubic hair in wet saliva.

But that wasn't all.

Another woman lay sprawled completely bare across his lap, her thighs spread wide as his thick fingers buried deeply inside her, aggressively pumping and stirring the dripping wetness between her legs until she was shivering and choking out breathless moans against his neck.

For one horrifying second, my brain completely stopped functioning.

“Oh my god.”

Heat exploded violently across my face while embarrassment crashed into me all at once.

Instinct took over immediately.

I spun around so fast my hair whipped across my shoulders before grabbing for the iron door handles with both hands.

Nope. Absolutely not. I needed to leave.

Now.

“Step away from that door, human.”

Valen’s deep voice stopped me cold before I could even pull the doors open.

Behind me, soft moans and wet sounds filled the suffocating silence while fabric rustled somewhere across the room.

Then his voice came again, lower this time.

“Turn around, Maya.”

My brows furrowed instantly while disbelief flooded straight through me.

Was he serious?