Chapter 19: The Rival's Gift

I was walking back to my room after another supervised walk through the halls, with my mind still full of the image of Leandro breaking that guard's arm, when I heard voices coming from the throne room. The doors were open, which was unusual, and torchlight spilled out into the corridor like liquid gold, painting the stone floor in shades of orange and red.

I should have kept walking. I should have gone back to my room and closed the door and pressed my back against the headboard and pretended I had not heard anything. That was what survival looked like. Keep your head down, make yourself small, and do not invite trouble. But something pulled me forward, something that felt like curiosity and fear and that quiet part of me that had been waking up ever since I arrived at this frozen castle.

I stopped in the doorway and looked inside.

The throne room was crowded with nobles, more than I had ever seen gathered in one place. Their golden eyes glowed in the firelight like a constellation of stars, and their whispers bounced off the stone walls and the high ceilings, filling the space with a sound like the buzzing of flies. They were gathered around the center of the room, where Ramiro stood beside a woman I had never seen before.

She was so beautiful. There was no other word for it. She was tall and slender, with long dark hair that fell in waves down her back and golden eyes that sparkled like gemstones. Her dress was made of silk, deep green like the forests of the southern territories, jewels hung from her ears, her throat and her fingers, catching the light and scattering it in tiny rainbows across the floor. She moved like water, graceful and fluid, and when she smiled, her teeth were white, straight and perfect.

She was everything I was not. Noble where I was nothing, beautiful where I was plain, and Lycan where I was human. And Ramiro had brought her here like a prize, like a weapon, and like a message meant for me.

"Presenting Lady Seraphina of House Valdris," Ramiro announced, his voice echoing off the high ceilings, filling every corner of the room. "A gift for our king. A proper mate. Not a broken human."

The nobles murmured their approval. I saw heads nodding and eyes gleaming and smiles spreading across faces that had looked at me with nothing but contempt since the day I arrived. They had never wanted me here. They had never accepted me as the king's mate. And now Ramiro was giving them an alternative, someone they could support, and someone who belonged.

Leandro sat on his throne, his golden eyes fixed on the woman before him. His face was unreadable, and a mask of stone and shadow, but I saw his hands tighten on the arms of the throne, and I saw the muscles in his jaw clench and release. He did not look at Ramiro. He did not look at the nobles. He looked only at Lady Seraphina, and I could not tell if he was considering her or dismissing her or something else entirely.

Lady Seraphina curtsied, low and graceful, and when she rose, her golden eyes met Leandro's without fear. "My king," she said, and her voice was like honey, warm and sweet and perfectly pitched. "I am honored to be in your presence. My family has served the crown for generations, and I would be humbled to serve you as well."

The room was silent. Everyone was watching the king, waiting for his response, waiting to see what he would do with this gift that Ramiro had so carefully chosen. I could feel the tension in the air, thick and heavy, like the moment before a storm breaks.

I should have left. I should have turned around and walked away and hidden in my room until it was all over. But my feet would not move, and my eyes would not look away, and I stood there in the doorway like a fool, watching the king consider another woman.

Leandro looked at Lady Seraphina for a long moment. His golden eyes moved over her face, her dress, the jewels at her throat, and the curve of her smile. He looked at her the way a hunter looks at prey, assessing, calculating, and deciding.

Then he looked at me.

Our eyes met across the crowded room, and I felt my heart stop. The distance between us seemed to disappear, and for a moment, it was just the two of us, no nobles, no Ramiro, and no beautiful woman in a green silk dress. His gaze was intense, burning, and I saw something like certainty in his eyes.

He was not looking at me because he was confused or afraid or uncertain. He was looking at me because he had already made up his mind.

"No," he said.

The word echoed off the stone walls, loud and final, and the murmuring stopped. The nobles stared at their king, their faces frozen in surprise, their mouths hanging open like fish pulled from water. Lady Seraphina's smile faltered, just for a moment, before she smoothed it back into place, but I saw the flicker of hurt in her golden eyes.

"No?" Ramiro repeated, and I could hear the anger beneath his calm voice, the frustration, and the desperation. "My king, Lady Seraphina is of noble blood. Her family has served the crown for generations. She would be a perfect match for…"

"I said no," Leandro interrupted, and his voice was ice, sharp, cold and final. "I already have a mate. I do not need another."

The room erupted in whispers. Nobles turned to look at me, standing in the doorway, and I felt their golden eyes on my skin like brands, hot and uncomfortable and invasive. Some of them were curious. Some of them were angry. Some of them looked at me like I had just stolen something that belonged to them, like I had reached out and taken something precious right out of their hands.

Lady Seraphina curtsied again, though her movements were stiff now, and she walked toward the doors without looking at anyone. Her silk dress rustled against the stone floor, and the jewels at her throat caught the firelight and scattered it like sparks. She did not look at me as she passed, but I saw her hands shaking, just a little, and I felt a strange pang of sympathy for her.

She had been used. Ramiro had used her like a pawn in his game, and she had not even known it.

Ramiro's smile faltered as he watched her go. His face was calm, and controlled, but I could see the fury in his eyes, the way his hands curled into fists at his sides, the way his jaw tightened until the muscles stood out like cords. He had planned this. He had brought Lady Seraphina here to test the bond, to test the king, and to see how far he could push before something broke.

And he had lost.

He walked past me on his way out of the throne room, and I pressed myself against the wall to let him pass, making myself as small as possible, trying to disappear into the shadows. But he did not pass. He stopped, right beside me, close enough that I could smell the wolf on him, wild and ancient and hungry. His breath was hot on my ear, and his voice was low and dangerous.

"This is not over," he whispered. "He will break you. And when he does, I will be there."

Then he walked away, his boots echoing on the stone floor, his shadow stretching long behind him in the light of the torches. The other nobles followed, their whispers fading into the distance, until the throne room was empty except for me and the king.

I stood there for a long moment, my heart pounding, my hands shaking, and my throat so dry I could not swallow. Ramiro's words echoed in my head like a warning, like a promise, and like a curse.

Leandro rose from his throne and walked toward me, and the sound of his boots on the stone floor was the only noise in the empty room. The nobles were gone now, and the torches were burning low, and the shadows were growing long. His golden eyes never left mine, and his face was still unreadable, but I saw his hands shaking, just a little, the way they always did when he was near me.

"Come," he said, and his voice was low and rough.

He did not wait for me to answer. He walked past me into the corridor, and I followed because I did not know what else to do, because my feet would not stop moving, because something in me wanted to be near him even though every sensible part of my brain was screaming at me to run.

We walked in silence through the halls, past the guards who bowed their heads and the servants who pressed themselves against the walls, until we reached the door to my room. Leandro opened it and stood aside, waiting for me to enter.

I walked inside, and he followed, and the door closed behind us with a click that echoed in the silence.

He did not speak. He just stood there, looking at me, and I stood there, looking at him, and the fire crackled between us like a living thing. The shadows danced on the walls, and the wind howled outside, and I could feel the weight of everything unsaid pressing down on us like a physical weight.

"Why did you say no?" I asked. My voice was smaller than I wanted it to be, barely loud enough to reach across the room.

Leandro's golden eyes held mine. "Because she is not you."

He left before I could say anything else, the door closing behind him, and the lock clicking into place.

I stood there in the middle of my room, with the cloak warm on my shoulders, as the King's words echoed in my head."She is not you."

I did not know what that meant. But I knew that something had changed, something important.

And somewhere in the darkness of the castle, Ramiro was smiling and planning.