Chapter 6 : THE MONSTER'S CONFESSION

“She’s my fated mate.”

For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.

The words settled over the tent like a death sentence, too heavy and too impossible to belong to me. Fated mate.

My mate.

The same word that had belonged to Caelan less than an hour ago.

The same bond I had carried in my chest for years, only to feel it ripped apart beneath the cold edge of his rejection.

My body reacted before my mind could catch up. Something deep inside me stirred at Varek’s declaration, answering him with a sharp, terrifying pulse of recognition.

No. Absolutely not.

I shoved against his chest and this time he let me go.

I stumbled backwards, my knees nearly giving out beneath me. The edge of the map table caught against my hip, and I reached for it blindly, gripping the polished wood until my fingers ached.

“You knew.”

The words came out quieter than I intended, but the accusation beneath them filled the space between us.

Varek stood several feet away, his broad shoulders rigid beneath his black tunic. The amusement that had once lived in his eyes was gone. So was the smugness. He looked at me with a stillness that made my skin crawl, as though he had been waiting for this moment long before I had even entered the tent.

Caelan stared between us.

“What did you do to her?” he demanded.

His voice cut through the silence, but I barely heard him. I was too focused on Varek. 

“You knew.”

“Yes.” The answer came too easily.

My chest tightened. My fingers dug harder into the table until the wood pressed painfully into my palm.

“How?”

His jaw flexed once. “I knew enough.”

A laugh slipped from my throat, thin and bitter. It sounded nothing like me.

“Enough?”

I pushed away from the table, though my legs still felt unsteady.

“You knew enough to threaten my entire kingdom. You knew enough to manipulate Caelan into humiliating me in front of everyone I have ever known. You knew enough to send me running into the woods like a wounded animal.”

My hand trembled as I pointed at him.

“And now you stand there and tell me I’m your fated mate as though that somehow makes any of it acceptable?”

His expression hardened. The muscles in his forearms tightened at his sides, but he made no move toward me.

“I never said it made it acceptable.”

“No.” My voice cracked, and I hated the way his eyes immediately dropped to my mouth, catching every tremor. “You just keep calling it freedom.”

The word tasted poisonous.

“You destroyed me and called it freedom.”

For the first time, something shifted in his eyes. It wasn't regret but something darker, something dangerously close to guilt, and the sight of it only made my anger burn hotter. I didn’t want his guilt. I wanted the truth. I wanted to understand how he could look at me after everything he had done and still believe he had the right to claim me.

“You would still be in that palace tonight,” he said quietly, “waiting for a man who had already decided you weren’t worthy of him.”

His voice was calm, but his hands curled slowly into fists.

“That was not your decision to make!”

My voice struck the walls of the tent.

Outside, the guards fell silent. Even the faint movement of armour beyond the canvas stopped.

Caelan flinched.

Varek didn’t. He simply watched me, calm and unreadable, as though my fury were something he had expected from the beginning.

I hated that calmness.

I hated the way he stood there while I struggled to keep myself from falling apart.

“How long?” I demanded.

His eyes narrowed. “How long what?”

“How long have you known about me?”

The question hung between us.

Varek didn’t answer.

My stomach dropped.

“You said you knew enough.” I took a step toward him, my boots striking the wooden floor with more force than necessary. “So tell me.”

“Devanne—”

“How long?”

His silence began to feel like an answer.

“Before tonight?” I asked.

Nothing.

“Before I came to Moonveil?”

Still nothing.

“Before the treaty?”

His gaze remained fixed on mine, but he didn’t speak. The realization settled over me slowly, cold fingers closing around my throat.

“You knew who I was before I ever ran into you.”

“Yes.”

The admission landed harder than it should have.

I swallowed, forcing air into my lungs. “How long?”

For the first time, Varek looked away.

It was only for a second, but it frightened me more than his anger ever could. The Supreme Alpha King did not look away from anyone. He did not hesitate. He did not allow anyone to see uncertainty in him.

“What does it matter?” he asked.

I stared at him.

Then I laughed again, though there was no humor in it. I shook my head, unable to believe he had actually asked me that.

“What does it matter?”

I stepped closer, my heart beating so hard it hurt.

“You blackmailed my mate. You orchestrated my rejection. You knew exactly where I would run. You were waiting for me at the lake.”

His eyes returned to mine.

“You think that was coincidence?  stop asking questions you already know the answer to.”

The anger came back so violently that my hands began to shake. I could feel it in my throat, in my teeth, in the sharp pressure behind my eyes.

“You don’t get to do that.”

“Do what?”

“Talk around the truth.”

I crossed the space between us and pressed one trembling finger against his chest.

The contact was brief, but his entire body went rigid beneath my touch. His gaze dropped to my hand, then lifted slowly to my face. Something possessive flashed through his eyes, so quick and fierce that it made my pulse stumble.

I ignored it.

“You don’t get to decide what I know. You don’t get to decide what I’m allowed to ask. And you certainly don’t get to stand there and act as though I should be grateful because you were stalking the borders, waiting for me to fall apart.”

His expression darkened.

“I was not stalking you.”

His voice dropped into a warning growl.

“Then what were you doing?” I asked.

He said nothing. His silence pressed against me like another wall.

“Watching me?”

His nostrils flared, but he remained silent.

“Having people report on me?”

His jaw tightened, and that tiny movement told me everything.

My heart stopped.

“Oh, gods.”

I took a step backward, my finger falling from his chest.

“You did.”

Varek’s silence confirmed it.

A horrible realization crawled beneath my skin. It felt as though invisible hands had been reaching into my life, touching things I had believed were private, collecting pieces of me without my knowledge.

“How much did you know?”

Varek held my gaze. His eyes moved over my face as though he were memorizing my anger, and the thought made my skin prickle.

“I knew about your position in Aurelia. I knew about the treaty. I knew your sister had been presented as the intended bride. I knew Prince Caelan was your betrothed.”

He paused.

“And I knew you were the elder daughter.”

I swallowed.

“What else?”

His face remained unreadable.

“I knew you were trained with the southern guard. I knew you preferred the eastern training grounds because they were less crowded. I knew you rode before dawn when you couldn’t sleep.”

I couldn’t move.

“I knew you hated the palace gardens because your mother once told you they made you look too wild.”

The tent seemed to grow smaller around me. The lantern flame flickered, throwing shadows across his face, but nothing about him looked uncertain now.

“How?”

“I had reports.” He muttered. 

“From whom?”

“I won’t tell you.”

“Of course you won’t.” My voice shook now, and I hated that he could hear it.

Varek’s gaze moved over my face, lingering on the tears I refused to let fall. His nostrils flared when he noticed them, and his expression tightened as though my pain offended him.

“I knew you stopped wearing fitted gowns whenever you could get away with it,” he continued. “I knew you had spent months training harder than your body required because you believed becoming smaller would make people treat you differently.”

My face went cold.

He knew about the private things, the things I had never said aloud, the humiliating little habits I had thought belonged only to me, the restrictive corsets that left bruises beneath my clothes.

The way I had stood in front of mirrors and pulled at my waist, wishing I could carve pieces of myself away.

I had believed those moments were mine alone. Ugly, secret pieces of myself that no one else had witnessed.

But Varek knew.

He knew, and he had gathered those pieces as though they were information to be stored and used.

“For what?” I asked. 

His answer came immediately.

“Because you were important.”

“Important to what?”

His eyes darkened.

“To me.”

The words should have sounded romantic, but they didn't; they sounded like a threat. His shoulders shifted, and he took one step toward me. The movement was controlled, but the possessiveness in it was unmistakable, as though he had decided the distance between us was no longer acceptable.

Before I could respond, Caelan gave a bitter laugh from across the tent.

“You really believed him?”

I turned toward him.

He stood between two guards, his face pale and his hair disheveled from the struggle. There was something different in his expression now.  “You still don’t know what he wants from you,” he said.

Varek’s head snapped toward him.

“Enough.”

The word cracked through the tent.

Caelan ignored him. “You think you’re his mate and that’s all this is?”

“Caelan,” Varek warned.

His voice was low, but the threat in it made the guards stiffen. Varek’s body angled subtly between Caelan and me, as though he could shield me from words alone.

But Caelan’s eyes remained fixed on me.

“He didn’t choose you because you’re some beautiful accident.”

My heart sank.

“What are you talking about?”

Varek moved toward him. “Take him out.”

The guards tightened their grips on Caelan’s arms.

“No!” Caelan struggled against them. “She deserves to know!”

“You have said enough.”

Varek’s voice was quiet now, which somehow made it more dangerous. His hands hung at his sides, but his fingers flexed once, claws threatening beneath the skin.

“No, she hasn’t heard the worst part!”

My pulse began to race and I looked at Varek.

“What worst part?”

His expression became lethal.

“Devanne.”

The way he said my name sounded like a command. Like a warning. Like he expected me to obey him simply because he had spoken.

I refused to look away. “What worst part?”

Varek crossed the distance between them so quickly that the guards barely had time to react. His hand closed around Caelan’s jacket, and a second later Caelan’s back struck the wooden support beam hard enough to make the entire tent tremble.

The lantern flame jumped.

“You will not speak of things you do not understand.”

Varek’s voice was barely above a whisper, but the sound carried a violence that made the air feel thin.

Caelan coughed, his hands gripping Varek’s wrist.

“She’ll find out eventually.”

Varek’s grip tightened.

His claws began to emerge from his fingertips, sharp points catching the lantern light. His eyes had turned molten gold, and every line of his body radiated the kind of possessive fury that made even the guards take a cautious step back.

I stared at him.

“Varek.”

He didn’t look at me.

He released Caelan with enough force to make him stumble forward, and Caelan caught himself against the beam.

Varek turned toward me.

I could barely recognize the man standing there.

His face was controlled again, but his eyes were not. They burned with something fierce and guarded, something that made it clear he would destroy anyone who tried to expose whatever secret he was protecting.

“What does he mean?”

“Not tonight.” He said with finality in his tone. 

I turned toward Caelan. The guards looked to Varek for permission. After a moment, he gave them a slight nod, and their hold loosened.

Caelan straightened slowly, one hand braced against the beam. He was breathing hard, his eyes still fixed on me. For one terrible second, I saw the boy I had loved beneath the frightened prince.

Then the memory of the gala rose between us. And the tenderness inside me died all over again.

I walked toward him.

“Devanne,” he whispered.

I stopped directly in front of him. “You knew.”

His face crumpled. “I had no choice.”

“You always have a choice.”

“I was trying to save everyone.” He defended. 

“And you saved them by destroying me?”

His eyes filled with guilt.

“I thought Varek would let you go.”

I stared at him.

“You thought?”

My voice rose, and I stepped closer until there was barely any space between us.

“I didn’t know he would—”

My hand moved before I could think.

The crack of my palm against his cheek echoed through the tent. Caelan’s head snapped to the side.

For a moment, no one moved.

My hand stung, but the pain barely reached me. It was nothing compared to the ache beneath my ribs, nothing compared to the hollow place where our bond had once lived.

Caelan slowly turned back toward me, one hand rising to his cheek. I expected anger.

There was none. Only devastation.

“You deserved that,” I whispered.

His eyes closed.

“I know.”

“I loved you,” I said, turning back to Caelan. My voice broke around the words. “Gods, I loved you so much that I let myself believe every horrible thing you said tonight because some part of me thought maybe you were finally telling me the truth.”

Caelan’s eyes opened.

“I never meant—”

“You meant every word you said.”

“I was forced to say them.”

“But you said them.”

He had no answer. The silence between us was worse than any excuse he could have offered. I stepped back, looking at the man who had once been my entire future.

“I hope you remember the sound of that rejection for the rest of your life.”

Caelan swallowed.

“I will.”

Varek finally spoke.

“Take him away.”

The command was quiet, but the guards moved immediately.

They seized Caelan’s arms. “Devanne.”

The guards dragged Caelan toward the tent entrance, his boots scraping against the floor. Caelan twisted back toward me.

“You don’t know what he is going to do with you!”

Varek’s voice became dangerously quiet. “Remove him.”

The tent flap opened, and cold night air swept inside. For one brief moment, Caelan stood framed against the darkness, looking at me as though he still expected me to save him.

I didn’t.

The guards pulled him outside and the flap fell shut.

Silence returned.

I stood there staring at the place where he had disappeared, listening to the faint sound of footsteps fading beyond the canvas.

Only then did I realize my cheek was wet.

I hadn’t felt myself crying.

Varek took one step toward me.

I immediately raised a hand.

“Don’t.”

He stopped so abruptly that the floorboards creaked beneath his boots.

For once, he listened.

His eyes dropped to my raised hand, then returned to my face. Something in his expression tightened, but he didn’t challenge me. He didn’t reach for me. He simply stood there, every muscle in his body held rigidly in check.

I wiped my face with the back of my hand, angry at the tears, angry at the weakness in my voice, angry that Caelan had taken so much from me and Varek had somehow found me in the wreckage.

“You said you knew me.”

“I know things about you.”

“That isn’t the same thing.”

“No.”

The answer was so simple that it hurt.

I looked at him.

“Then why?”

His eyes held mine.

“Because before tonight, I needed to know what kind of woman I was bringing into the North.”

My stomach dropped.

“Bringing?”

He didn’t answer.

The word echoed inside my head.

“You already decided.”

His silence was answer enough.

My gaze drifted toward the treaty lying abandoned on the table. The parchment had been pushed aside during the struggle, its edges curled beneath the lantern’s heat. Then I looked down at the black tunic hanging from my body, the fabric still carrying the faint scent of smoke and cedar.

Everything about tonight began rearranging itself in my mind.

And suddenly, I understood the most terrifying part.

He hadn’t discovered me in the woods. Or met the wrong sister. 

He had been expecting me. Princess Devanne Rovin.

But whatever answer waited behind those golden eyes, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.

I had not accidentally fallen into the Supreme Alpha King’s hands.

He had been waiting for me to fall.