Chapter 67: The Truth

Third POV

The corridor was empty, the distant music of the festival muffled by the thick stone walls. Maddox followed the faint trail of lavender, his boots silent on the cold floor, his heart pounding with each step.

The scent grew stronger as he approached the washroom, a small chamber tucked away from the main hall, used by guests who needed a moment of privacy during long events.

He pushed the door open slowly.

Hecate stood before the mirror, her hands braced on the edge of the marble basin, her head bowed. Her breathing was uneven, her shoulders rising and falling with each shallow breath. The candlelight flickered around her, casting dancing shadows on her pale face.

She looked up when he entered, her dark eyes meeting his in the reflection. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence stretched between them, heavy and fragile.

"You followed me," she said. It was not a question.

"Your scent led me here."

She turned to face him, her back against the basin, her hands gripping the edge behind her. Her lips were pressed together, her jaw tight. She looked like a woman holding herself together by sheer force of will.

"I saw the way you looked at Luna Nyra," Maddox said, stepping closer. "The way you watched her across the room. You know her. More than you have admitted."

Hecate's eyes narrowed. "What of it?"

"Are you friends?"

The question hung in the air. Hecate's expression flickered, something unreadable passing across her features.

"Something like that," she said carefully.

"Then tell me. Is she against this? Against us?" Maddox's voice was low, almost urgent. "Does she disapprove of what is happening between us?"

Hecate stared at him for a long moment. Her hands unclenched from the basin. She pushed off from the edge and closed the distance between them in two swift steps.

She kissed him.

It was not a gentle kiss. It was not tentative or questioning. It was fierce, desperate, hungry. Her hands fisted in his coat, pulling him closer, and her mouth moved against his with an urgency that stole the breath from his lungs.

Maddox responded in kind, his arms wrapping around her waist, pulling her body against his. He backed her against the wall, his hands roaming her back, her hips, her thighs. She moaned into his mouth, a raw, needy sound that sent a jolt of heat through his veins.

Their kisses grew deeper, more frantic. Hecate's fingers tangled in his hair, tugging, holding him close. She kissed him like she was trying to memorize the shape of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the rhythm of his breath.

Maddox pressed her harder against the stone wall, his body pinning hers. He could feel her heart pounding against his chest, wild and fast. His own heart answered in kind.

"I have been wanting to do that all night," he murmured against her lips.

She kissed him again, softer this time, but no less urgent. Her hands slid down his chest, gripping his coat, holding on as if she were afraid of falling.

When they finally broke apart, both of them were breathing hard. Hecate's lips were swollen, her cheeks flushed, her eyes bright with something that looked like desperation.

Maddox pressed his forehead to hers, his hands cupping her face. The moonlight streaming through the narrow window caught the gold in his eyes.

"If the Goddess does not bind us as mates tonight," he whispered, his voice rough, "I will be very upset. I will demand an explanation. I will not accept any other outcome."

Hecate went still.

Her hands, which had been clutching his coat, slowly loosened. Her breathing, which had been ragged and quick, began to even out. She pulled back, just slightly, just enough to look at his face.

Her expression had changed. The heat was still there, but beneath it, something else had surfaced. Anger. Or fear. Or both.

"Do not say that," she said, her voice quiet.

"Why not? It is the truth."

"The truth." She laughed, a bitter, hollow sound. "You do not know what the truth is."

"Then tell me."

She shook her head and stepped back, putting distance between them. Her arms wrapped around herself, as if she were cold, as if the heat of their kiss had never happened.

"You cannot promise something like that," she said. "You cannot pledge your heart to a woman you do not truly know."

"I know you."

"You know Hecate." Her voice cracked on the name. "You do not know..."

She stopped. Swallowed. Looked away.

Maddox reached for her, but she flinched back.

"Do not," she said. "Please. I need... I need to think."

Before he could respond, the bells began to toll.

Midnight.

The sound reverberated through the castle, deep and resonant, marking the arrival of the sacred hour. The music from the great hall had stopped. The murmur of the crowd had fallen silent. The Moon Goddess was descending.

Maddox cursed under his breath. He could not stay. He had to open the ritual. It was his duty as king, his role as the figurehead of the Seven Packs.

He looked at Hecate, still standing with her back to him, her arms wrapped around herself.

"The ceremony," he said. "I have to go."

"Then go."

"Will you be there?"

She did not answer.

He crossed the room and paused at the door, his hand on the frame. He looked back at her, silhouetted against the moonlight, beautiful and broken and impossibly distant.

"I will be looking for you," he said. "In the crowd. Under the moonlight."

Then he left.

---

The courtyard was packed.

Guests had spilled out of the great hall and gathered beneath the open sky, their faces upturned toward the full moon. The light was brighter than usual, almost silver, casting long shadows across the grass. The air hummed with anticipation.

Maddox climbed the steps to the raised platform at the center of the courtyard. His advisors and Beta Emrich flanked him, their faces solemn. The alphas of the seven packs stood in a semicircle before him, their Lunas beside them, their heirs and families behind.

The young wolves, the ones who had come hoping to find their fated mates, stood in a separate cluster near the front. Their eyes were wide, their hands clasped, their breath held.

Maddox scanned the crowd.

He found Odette first, seated in a chair near the front, her silver cane resting against her knee. She was watching him with cold, knowing eyes. He looked away.

He found Ysabella, standing near Emrich, her hand on his arm. She was searching the crowd too, looking for someone. Tori, perhaps. Or Hecate.

He found Carmen and Alpha Erebus, standing near the edge of the semicircle. Carmen's smile was fixed in place, her gaze sweeping the young wolves with predatory interest.

And then he found her.

Hecate stood at the back of the courtyard, half hidden behind a pillar, her dark gown blending into the shadows. The moonlight, brighter than usual, spilled over the courtyard like water, and it reached her too. It touched her pale face, her dark hair, her clenched hands.

She was not standing with the young wolves. She was not part of the circle of desperate souls hoping to be chosen. But the moonlight found her anyway.

Maddox let out a breath he did not know he had been holding.

She was there. She had come.

He raised his arms to the sky, his voice echoing across the courtyard.

"The Moon Goddess walks among us tonight. She sees our hearts. She knows our desires. Let us open ourselves to her will. Let us receive her blessings."

The crowd murmured its assent.

"The sacred ritual begins now."