Chapter 8

Ethan’s POV

The council chamber was stuffy, as usual. The scent of ink, smoke, and aged parchment always clung to its walls, no matter how many windows we cracked or incense we burned. I sat at the head of the long, ironwood table, my hand clenched around the arm of my chair while my generals droned on about territory control and security reinforcements after the rogue invasion.

My head pounded.

Not from the noise though there was plenty of that but from the weight pressing against my mind. I hadn’t slept in two nights. Not since… her.

I could still hear her voice echoing in my head calling me mate. That damned word.

It was supposed to mean strength. Completion.

But with her, it felt like weakness.

“I believe we should deploy an additional twenty warriors to the western ridge,” Beta Rygar said, tapping a scroll with his thick finger. “Until we’ve interrogated the remaining rogues thoroughly, we can’t assume this was an isolated strike.”

I nodded stiffly, not really hearing him. “Do it.”

He paused, then bowed slightly. “Yes, my king.”

Gamma Haden cleared his throat. “Also, there are concerns among the northern elders about the slave girl.”

That got my attention.

My fingers twitched on the table. “What concerns?”

“They say she was seen using her sight. That she glowed briefly. They believe she’s cursed.”

“She’s not cursed,” I growled.

There was a pause.

I realized too late how quickly I’d snapped. How defensive I sounded.

I hated that.

“She’s under surveillance,” I added, voice lower. “That’s all they need to know.”

“Yes, my king,” Haden replied, not daring to question me further.

I waved a hand. “This meeting is over.”

The guards opened the heavy doors as the council stood and filed out with bows and murmured farewells. I remained seated for a moment longer, rubbing my temples, trying to breathe through the storm in my chest.

When the room was finally empty, I stood and exited through the side door that led to the private halls. The scent of my own sweat clung to me from the past two days, and I needed the weight of water hot, scalding water to scrape this frustration from my skin.

The corridors were quiet. Dimly lit. I passed the gallery of ancestral portraits without looking at them. I didn’t care to see their judgmental stares.

I reached my chamber doors and pushed them open.

And stopped.

She was there.

On my bed.

Naked.

Sophia.

She lay sprawled across the velvet sheets, her legs crossed, her dark hair cascading over her bare shoulders like some goddess from an ancient tale. Her skin gleamed in the candlelight, and her golden eyes  watched me with unmistakable hunger.

“I was waiting,” she purred.

My jaw clenched.

Not because she wasn’t beautiful… she was. Any male in his right mind would have dropped to their knees. Her body was the kind that caused wars in ancient days. Her curves, her confidence, even the way she moved… it was all designed to seduce.

But I felt nothing.

No heat. No hunger. No pull.

Just irritation.

Because it wasn’t her I wanted.

It never had been.

She stood and approached me, every step calculated, every sway of her hips rehearsed. I didn’t move. I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of flinching.

“You’ve been tense lately,” she said softly, trailing a hand down her own hip. “I thought I’d help you… relax.”

She came closer.

Her breasts brushed my chest high, full, perfect. I felt the pressure through my tunic. I could smell the perfume she wore sweet, heady, cloying.

I hated it.

Her hands slid up to my shoulders, fingers tracing the ridges of my muscles. “Let me take care of you, my king.”

I grabbed her wrist.

Not hard. But firm.

“No.”

She blinked. “No?”

“You heard me.”

Her brow furrowed. “Why? You’re clearly stressed. You’ve barely slept. You need release.”

My hand moved of its own accord cupping her breast.

Her breath hitched. She leaned in, lips parting.

And all I could see was her.

Not Sophia.

Tara.

The shape of her mouth when she frowned. The way her breath trembled when she was afraid. The softness of her skin when I touched her… not because she offered it, but because she trusted me, even when she shouldn’t have.

I pulled my hand away like I’d been burned.

“Get out.”

Sophia blinked again. “What?”

“I said get. Out.”

Her lips parted, a mixture of confusion and disbelief on her face.

“You can’t be serious. I’ve waited weeks for this moment. You finally need comfort, and I’m offering…”

“I didn’t ask,” I growled, stepping forward. “I never summoned you. I don’t want you here. And I never will.”

Her expression shifted hurt flashing through it before fury took its place. “She did this to you,” she hissed. “That slave. She’s in your head.”

“Do not speak her name,” I warned.

She stepped back, chest heaving. “You’re throwing me away… for her?”

“I never had you,” I said coldly. “And yes. I hate her, but I’d rather bathe in silver than touch someone I feel nothing for.”

Her eyes brimmed with angry tears. “I was supposed to be your Luna.”

“You’re not.”

“You told the kingdom I was!”

“I lied.”

She gasped, her chest rising and falling.

“You’re cruel,” she spat.

I turned my back on her. “You’re dismissed.”

She didn’t move at first. Then I heard her snatch her clothes off the chair, muttering curses under her breath.

“This isn’t over,” she warned. “You may not want me now, but one day you’ll beg for what I offered.”

I said nothing.

She slammed the door behind her.

I exhaled slowly.

Alone again.

And yet, not at peace.

Because her scent still lingered.

And hers didn’t.

The one I couldn’t forget.

Tara.

Even now, I could picture her curled in that cold tower room, clinging to a thread of warmth I never gave her. Bruised. Humiliated. Still tethered to me by a bond she didn’t ask for.

And I…

I didn’t know who I hated more.

Her.

Or myself.

I stripped off my tunic and stepped into the adjoining chamber. The bath had already been prepared teaming, fragrant, waiting.

I sank into the water, hoping it would scald everything off me.

The memory of Tara.

The memory of her kiss.

The rage. The desire. The confusion.

But nothing burned enough to make me forget.