The Scar I Hide

Ashton’s POV

The smell of cedarwood hit me first. Thick and heavy. It filled the royal bathhouse until I could barely breathe.

Every breath made my chest tight. The rough fabric of my tunic kept rubbing against my shoulder. Right where the herb paste was caked over the bruise.

The bruise the stranger left from the other night.

My fingers moved on their own, tugging the collar up higher. If this shirt slipped, even a little, he’d see it. And then everything would be over.

Xander didn’t seem to notice. He walked like someone who’d never been scared a day in his life. Easy. Calm.

Back in the Grand Hall his jaw had been locked. Now that we were near the water, that tension was gone. He still held my wrist though. His thumb kept drawing slow circles over my pulse.

He was warm. Too warm. Heat rolled off him in waves and made my wolf curl up tight inside me.

My throat was dry. The air was damp but I couldn’t swallow.

I needed him to focus on anything other than the clothes sticking to my sweaty skin.

"How did you know my name?” I asked, my voice quiet. “Why did your wolf just choose me in the crowd?”

Xander stopped at the edge of the marble pool. Water slapped softly against the stone. It threw broken light across his face.

He turned to me, his dark eyes locking onto mine. It felt like they were pinning me in place.

“I’ve been watching you,” he said. His voice was low and rough. I felt it in my chest. “The way you work. The way you don’t complain.”

He paused. His gaze dragged from my jaw down to my throat. “And you,” he added. “You’re beautiful.”

He stepped closer, closing the small distance between us until the heat of his chest brushed against mine. He took both my hands in his. My hands looked small and rough against his.

His eyes moved over me. Over the dirt on my legs. Over the frayed edges of my servant clothes.

“I know they call you defective and lonely and useless,” he muttered, a hard, dangerous edge creeping into his tone.

His grip tightened just enough to let me know he meant everything he said. “But I will not hesitate to kill anyone who touches you from today.”

The words hit me like ice and fire at the same time. This was the Alpha King of Noctaryn. He could end me with two fingers. And he was promising to burn the court for me.

Before I could process the weight of that promise, his hands left mine and moved toward the collar of my tunic. “You’re mine,” he whispered.

A sharp whimper caught in my throat. I stumbled backward a step, my hands flying up to block his chest as I twisted my upper body away from his reach. My heart was pounding so hard against my ribs, I was certain he could hear it.

Xander let out a low, amused rumble that vibrated through his chest. “Shy of your mate?”

“No. No, I’m not,” I stammered. I waved my hands like that would clear the air between us.

He chuckled. Then he turned around. I let out a shaky breath.

He reached up and unclasped the heavy royal cape on his shoulders. The dark velvet fell to the floor with a soft thud, and then he started undressing.

The shirt came off first. Then his pants. I couldn’t look away.

He was huge, like he’d been carved out of stone and taught to fight. His back was wide. Muscles shifted under pale skin with every small move. His arms were thick, marked with thin silver scars. White hair fell down between his shoulders.

I swallowed hard. The words slipped out before I could stop them. “What the fuck.”

Xander glanced over his shoulder. One eyebrow lifted. “You want a fuck?” he asked, blunt.

My face went hot. “No! No, I don’t...” I waved my hands again.

“Then what?” He turned fully around, his hands coming down to the waistband of his boxers.

“I mean, this place,” I said, gesturing wildly to the vaulted ceilings and the massive carved pillars surrounding the water. “This place is fucking beautiful.”

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He didn't hesitate. He pulled his boxers down and stepped out of them, exposing his large, muscular thighs and firm, heavy frame.

When he faced me, I almost lost my footing on the slick tile. He was massive in every sense of the word. My own lower muscles gave a sudden twitch, a hot rush of blood pooling in my groin that made me curse myself.

A cold sweat broke out across my forehead as Xander took a slow, deliberate step toward me.

The heat radiating off him was immense, and for a terrifying second, my mind fractured. My memory drifted back to the dark cave on the border, to the sun wolf who had pinned me to the stone under the light of the Blood Moon.

Both of them shared that same build. Both of them possessed an intoxicating, predatory sweetness that made my wolf want to lay its neck bare.

I shook my head, forcing the image of the stranger out of my mind before my scent could betray the memory. I couldn't think about him. Not here. Not with the Moon King standing close enough to smell the guilt on my breath.

Xander reached for me. His scarred fingers caught the neckline of my tunic, pulling it down my arms.

Panic shot through me. If he pulled it down, he’d see the paste. The bruise under it.

My breath caught. I grabbed his wrists to stop him. I needed something. Anything to throw him off.

So let my hands drop from his wrists, allowing my knees to go entirely slack. I collapsed onto the cold marble floor at his feet, burying my face in my hands as a jagged sob ripped from the center of my chest.

“El,” I choked out, the name of my dead sister tearing through my throat. “She’s gone, Xander. She died and I couldn't stop it... I could not help her...”

The atmosphere of the room changed immediately. That heavy, lustful air shattered into pieces. Xander froze, his hands dropping to his sides as my crying echoed off the stone walls.